"Jon. She knows who you are. Who you really are. You'll always be a threat to her. And I know a killer when I see one." He shook his head in disbelief as Arya walked away. He called after her.

"Are you going back to the North?"

Arya shook her head. "No."

"Where are you going?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I'm leaving Westeros."

He moved to her and wrapped her in a hug. "I love you."

She embraced him fiercely. "I love you, too."

With that she left. Jon looked back at the Red Keep for a moment, then made up his mind. He found Ser Davos at the city gates with a spare horse for him.

"What're we doing now?" Ser Davos asked, weary of what was to come.

Jon shook his head. "I'm going north with Tormund. I'm never returning to this shit city."

Davos raised his eyebrows. "You aren't going back to Winterfell?"

Jon shook his head and Davos continued. "Did you tell her that?"

"No. I never want to see her again." He mounted his horse. "Don't tell anyone where I'm going. I don't want them coming after me. Especially her."

Ser Davos nodded and Jon gave him a sad smile. "Goodbye, Ser Davos."

"Goodbye, Jon." With that Jon spurred his horse forward and left King's Landing behind him, never turning back.

"Snow, there's a southerner here to see you." Josmus greeted him and his party as they were returning to the village after their hunt.

Jon's mood soured immediately. "Tell them to fuck off."

Josmus gave him an uneasy look. "Something tells me you'll want to meet him."

"I have no interest in the south." Jon pushed past him, heading for his cabin. Josmus ran after him. "Snow, he's claiming he wants to live here now. He's claiming he's your son."

Jon froze. His heart stopped, then felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He turned around. "My son?"

Josmus nodded. Jon took a shaky breath. "Take me to him."

The boy had been allowed to stay in Jon's cabin and had been provided some spare furs to wear. He had come ill-prepared for the north, having never left King's Landing until now. Jon burst into the cabin, freightened at what he would find.

Daeron shot up, startled by the sudden intrusion. Both stopped at seeing each other for the first time. Jon felt his knees buckling.

The boy had his curly black hair, although it was cut short. A shadow of a beard was gracing his face, making the resemblance even stronger. But his eyes differed from Jon's, and there was something about his face that didn't match Jon's. His eyes were purple and his bone structure a little lighter. A little more Valyrian. Daenerys' features. Jon felt like he was going to pass out.

Finally the boy spoke. "Jaehae- Jon?"

Jon nodded, eyes widening. "Are you- is your mother-"

"Daenerys Targaryen. And I believe you're my father."

Jon nodded shakily, his eyes dropping to the floor as he took an unsteady breath. He could feel tears forming in his eyes as he looked up again. The boy seemed just as hesitant as he was. Finally Jon stepped forward slowly, opening his arms and inviting his son in for a hug.

Daeron responded eagerly, falling into his father's arms. Jon held him tightly, tears more readily falling. Daeron shut his eyes tightly, savoring the embrace.

"Father." he choked out, half a question half a prayer.

Jon pulled back a little bit to grip his son's shoulder. He didn't know what to say. "You look like your mother."

Daeron laughed a little. "I think I look more like you."

He stepped back a little more and shakily wiped Jon's tears away for him. Jon spoke again, his voice a little steadier. "What's your name?"

"Daeron." Jon smiled and almost started crying again. "Daeron?"

His son nodded and smiled. Jon stepped back further and ran a hand through his hair, sadness pooling in his eyes. "I never knew… If I would have known I would have come back, I never would have-"

"It's okay, Father." Jon shook his head. "No. I should have been there. If I had known I would never have left."

Daeron crossed the room and sat at Jon's table. His father quickly followed suit. Daeron fiddled with the hem of his fur jacket and spoke softly. "I've hated you for most of my life. Mother, she always told us that you were despicable, that you abandoned us and never wanted us. But a few moons ago I was visiting the docks and I met a captain, Ser Davos. He told me that you hadn't known. He told me that the last time he saw you you were heading north of the Wall and that I should seek you out. He told me you'd want to meet me, that you were a good man. He said that every child should have a chance to know their father, if only for a short while."

Jon reached out to grip Daeron's shoulder for a moment. "I wanted you, Daeron. I wanted you more than anything. I swear to you that I'll never abandon you again. You're my son and I'm going to be with you from now on."

Daeron nodded, hopeful. "Can I stay here? With you? North of the Wall?"

Jon's eyes widened, filled with happiness. "Of course, son. Of course."

He noticed Daeron shivering a bit. "Have you ever been this far north before?"

Daeron shook his head. "I've never left King's Landing until now."

Concern flashed across Jon's face before he crossed his cabin to a trunk. He rifled through it, searching his furs for something that would be suitable for Daeron. He was significantly smaller than Jon. It had only been 14 years since Jon had last seen Daenerys, his son was still young.

He finally found an old cloak that would suffice. He brought it over to Daeron. "I'll have Dacey make you something that will fit you better. For now I think this won't be enormous on you."

"Thank you." Daeron stood up and wrapped it around himself, feeling a little warmer. He and Jon stood there awkwardly for a few moments before Jon spoke. "I've just returned from a hunt. Would you like to help us skin what we caught?"

Daeron nodded apprehensively. "I've never skinned anything before."

"Have you been hunting before?"

Daeron shook his head. "I know how to use a sword, but I've spent most of my life at court."

Jon nodded. "Well if you're going to live here you'll have to learn to hunt. Can you use a bow?"

Daeron nodded. "I wasn't a bad shot last time I did, though I may be a little out of practice."

Jon gave him a small smile. "We'll start practicing tomorrow. I'll train you with a sword as well, if you want."

Daeron smiled and nodded. "Please. I've heard you're an excellent swordsman."

Jon smiled broadly. "I'm also a little out of practice but I look forward to teaching you what I do know. Now come on, we'll need to go claim the best furs from the hunt if you're going to get a new set of clothes."

Daeron was out of practice with a bow but he spent the bulk of the day working at it with Jon. The two rode out into the woods a ways so that they may find some game in the forest, providing even better practice. They weren't able to find anything, but Daeron did improve over the course of the day.

When they returned to the camp that night they found Ghost outside Jon's cabin. Daeron's eyes widened but Jon gave his wolf a broad smile. "Ghost!"

He lumbered over to greet them with a wag of his tail. Daeron took a few steps back. Jon turned to his son as he bent to pet his wolf. "It's alright, son. He's mine. He's tame."

Daeron hesitantly held out his hand. Ghost sniffed him for a moment, then started panting and looked up at him with a friendly expression. Daeron smiled and reached down to pet him.

Jon headed back to the cabin and the pair followed. Daeron sat and scratched the direwolf behind his ears as Jon prepared a stew with food from his stores.

"Can I help?" Daeron asked. Jon shot him a smile. "Certainly. Can you come cut the vegetables and meat? We're running a little low on water; I'm going to step out to find some fresh snow to boil."

Daeron nodded and cut up the food the way Jon showed him before Jon slipped out to collect some snow. Soon he returned and set the pot above the flames, showing Daeron when to add the meat and vegetables and how to stir the pot correctly so the meat cooked evenly. When the stew was finished he poured it into two bowls and tossed Ghost an elk bone.

"He mostly hunts his own food, but when we have extra he's more than happy to take care of it." Jon said with a smile. The pair sat at the table in silence for a moment as Ghost gnawed on his bone before Daeron spoke. "Why did you come north?"

Jon sighed. "What did your mother tell you about the burning of King's Landing?"

Daeron bit his lip. "That the citizens had betrayed our family and had to pay for their crimes. That she needed to show strength and ensure that no one would cross our family ever again."

Jon nodded shakily, prepared to respond but Daeron continued. "Everyone else hasn't told me that. They told me that the city had already fallen, that they had surrendered, that the smallfolk screamed mercy in the streets as she burned them all to death. That she burned children needlessly."

Jon's eyes widened and they sat in silence for a moment. "Which do you believe?"

Daeron took an unsteady breath. "The latter. I know why my mother did it. I don't believe she's mad. But I think it was wrong. It was a needless massacre."

Jon nodded and Daeron continued after a moment. "She's a good ruler. Truly, she is. I'm proud to be her son. But I know that she never should have done it. It haunts me, you know. I'll never understand how someone so good could have done something so bad."

"Aye. Neither did I. That's why I left her."

Daeron gave him a sad look. "She loved you, you know. She always acts like she hates you, but I can see it in her eyes when she talks about you. She truly loved you."

Sadness pooled in Jon's eyes. "I loved her, too. I failed her. I wasn't there when she needed me."

"Why?"

"Did she tell you about my birth?"

"That you're Rhaegar's son?"

"That I was raised a bastard."

Daeron shook his head. He understood that he and his sister were bastards, even if his mother had legitimized them. Jon continued.

"After Robert Baratheon killed my father and usurped the throne my uncle found me. If Robert would have found out who my true father was he would have murdered me. My uncle knew that so he raised me as his bastard to protect me. I never found out who my true father was until after I had met your mother. I found out during the Long Night, before she burned King's Landing. It was hard for me, I didn't know who I was anymore. I pushed her away. I wish I hadn't but I was taught it's wrong for family to lay with family."

Daeron chuckled and Jon gave him a puzzled look. "Sorry, it's just that I've been betrothed to Rhaenys since we were born."

Jon's eyes widened. "Rhaenys?"

"My twin sister."

He practically fell out of his chair. "You have a sister?"

Daeron nodded. Jon was speechless for a moment. "What's she like?"

Daeron sighed. "She's alright. She takes after Mother in almost every way. I wouldn't have minded marrying her, though."

"Does she- does she hate me?"

Daeron hesitantly nodded. "I'm sorry, Father. It's how we were raised."

Jon nodded. "I wish I could have been there."

"It's okay. You didn't know. I forgive you."

After a moment Jon finally asked what he'd been wanting to all along. "Why did you leave?"

"Ser Davos told me you were a good man. That you hadn't intentionally abandoned us."

"But why are you staying with me? Why don't you want to go back?"

Daeron let out a shaky breath. "The reason I met Ser Davos is because I was looking for a way out of King's Landing. For a way to build a new life. I love my mother, I do. I love Rhaenys, too. But that's not the life I want. I don't want to be the heir to the Targaryen dynasty. I don't want something bought with so much blood."

Jon gave him a sad smile. "Neither do I. That's the other reason I left."

"Are you happy here?"

Jon smiled. "Yes, I am. It's a simpler life. I never took much pleasure in command. I knew I needed to do it, that I had been chosen to lead and that it was my duty to protect those that followed me. I was raised in a castle but I was raised a bastard. I was cast out, told I wasn't worthy. Told I was a stain on my family's honor. Here I'm just Jon. I'm able to help the other Free Folk, I'm able to live as I please."

Daeron smiled back at his father. "I want that, too."

Tears crept to Jon's eyes. "I'm so happy you're here, son. I'm so happy I'm your father. I wish more than anything I could have been there from the beginning, but I'm here now and I'm going to give you the best life I can, I promise."

Jon and Daeron discussed King's Landing a few more times that first week, but it was a painful subject for both of them. Jon didn't want to discuss Daenerys at all, and soon discussing Rhaenys only caused him guilt. Soon their conversations shifted to Jon's past from before he knew Daenerys, his life after he left, and their lives in the present.

As the weeks went by Daeron felt more and more at home. He finally got a set of fur clothing that fit him, although the cold was still crippling after living in the south his whole life. The other Free Folk helped Jon make Daeron his own bed, and after a few days the pair joined them in the main hall for supper and Daeron began to make friends in the community.

It was liberating to be able to talk to people without guards surrounding him. Once Jon was confident Daeron knew his way around he allowed his son free range of the town, although he always had a general idea of Daeron's whereabouts. Daeron spent a lot of his time with Jon training. It had been over a decade since Jon had had to fight a man for real but he had still retained much of his skill and passed down all he could to his son.

When Daeron wasn't with Jon he spent his time sparring with the other boys, sometimes with swords but he also wrestling. He lost his first few matches horribly but the other boys encouraged him and he soon found his rhythm. There were a few girls that caught his eye and after he was able to prove his physical prowess some returned the sentiment. Soon it was easy to forget that there was a time he didn't call the town home.

One day Tormund and his family came for a visit.

"King Crow!" he shouted, tackling Jon. Jon laughed and returned the embrace as he finally got to his feet. Daeron was nearby and heard the arrival. The other boys rushed to greet Tormund and Daeron followed.

Tormund was seen as a leader amongst the Free Folk and regularly checked up on other villages, but by far his favorite visits were with Jon. As Tormund greeted the others Jon saw Daeron near the back of the crowd and gestured for him to come forward.

"Tormund, this is my son, Daeron."

Tormund's eyes widened and he turned to Jon. "The Dragon Queen?"

Jon nodded with a sad smile.

Daeron had the wind knocked out of him as Tormund rushed forward to embrace him.

"Daeron!" Daeron did his best to awkwardly return the embrace. "Tormund?"

His father had told him tales of his life before he met Daenerys and Tormund had come up a number of times.

Tormund pulled back and grinned broadly. "Little Crow! You look just like your papa."

Daeron gave him an awkward smile and looked to Jon for help, who was letting out laugh. "Don't crush him to death."

"No, he's strong like his father. Aren't you, Little Crow?"

"I hope so."

Tormund finally released him. "Tomorrow you two are coming on a hunt with us!"

Jon nodded, looking to Daeron for consent. He nervously returned the gesture, hoping he was ready. He had been practicing with a bow more and more and had managed to shoot a few rabbits in the woods with the other boys.

That night Tormund captivated the entire hall with stories of his adventures. Jon whispered to Daeron to let him know when Tormund was exaggerating. Either way Daeron found himself laughing at the man's stories as he eagerly slammed horn after horn of fermented goat's milk, spilling most of it.

Jon had been hesitant to let Daeron drink at first but after he allowed him a horn of goat's milk Daeron didn't ask again, finding the taste to be overwhelming. Jon had grown used to it over the years but no one drank nearly as much as Tormund.

The next day Jon shook Daeron awake earlier that usual. Daeron quickly got dressed, his stomach a bundle of nerves. He'd never gone after anything larger than a rabbit before and he was eager to prove himself. Jon informed him that they'd be gone for a few days and handed him a pack for extra furs, a few waterskins, and some vegetables.

The two met up with the rest of the hunters just after dawn. Daeron was shocked Tormund had the level of energy he did after drinking as much as he had the night before. The red-haired man whooped and thrust a spear towards Daeron, which he just caught. Jon gave Tormund a challenging look and he grinned in response, shrugging. Daeron would have to get used to living close to danger if he was going to survive their hunt.

They walked for close to three days before they came upon a herd. Tormund brought a finger to his lips and they carefully walked through the forest, doing their best not to disturb anything. Daeron tightened his grip on his spear. Over the past few days Jon had been teaching him how to accurately throw it. In case he missed with his spear his bow was slung across his back and his quiver rested on his waist.

Suddenly he looked to his left and saw a massive elk bending down to sniff at some plants. He looked over his shoulder at Tormund and Jon, who gave him an encouraging nod. Daeron took a steadying breath and raised his spear before thrusting it into the side of the animal. Jon and Tormund soon followed suit as the animal screamed and ran, crashing into trees as the blood seeped out of it from the three spears lodged in it's side.

All around them the others did their best to ambush the other elk. Whoops and war cries echoed out through the woods as they chased after their prey. Daeron eagerly rushed after his elk, eventually catching up to it. He quickly drew his knife and went for it's throat. Jon was close behind him and gave his son a proud smile. Daeron grinned up at him.

They called out to the others after a few moments. Altogether their party had brought down three elk. They dragged them together and tied their legs to sticks so they would be easier to carry back to the village. Tormund excitedly told the story of how Daeron struck first and Daeron soon found that he agreed with his father. Tormund liked to exaggerate.

As they made their way back one of the Free Folk spotted a cave that he had camped out in, suggesting they shelter there for the night instead of setting up a tent. The others agreed and they made camp. They exchanged stories around the fire and began to eat some of their elk. Daeron didn't know that he'd ever tasted meat that good before.

While he was fairly quiet around the fire he realized that someday soon he would tell the story of his first hunt. He realized that he was building a new life with his father. He went to sleep that night freezing under his furs but he wouldn't have traded his freezing bed among his friends for the softest one south of the Wall.

Sometime in the night he heard something outside the cave. Furrowing his brow he quietly got up and went to investigate. As he exited the cave he was met with the sight of a giant bear nosing around their camp, eagerly pawing at the elk.

He slowly inched towards the nearest spear. Suddenly the bear turned, sensing movement. Daeron lunged for the spear and cried out for help. There was movement in the cave as Jon rushed to help his son but before he could get there Daeron watched as a massive paw was swung toward his face and his world turned black.