AN: So, for this story, I fudged the timeline a bit. Dany is in Meeren but Jon has yet to take his oath at the Wall. Also, Jon did not kill a white walker and did not receive Longclaw. Anyway, I know this theory is a popular one, but I love it. Enjoy and let me know what you think. –Brittanie


"Your Grace?"

The voice of Ser Barristan Selmy broke her out of her near sleep. She drew herself up in her covers and stretched before donning a sea green robe to plod barefoot to her chamber doors.


"I just read an interesting piece of news from Varys. I thought you would like to know right away, Your Grace." In his extended hand was a small piece of freshly unraveled paper, with tiny scrawling script.

To Daenerys Targaryen, the True Queen of Westeros,

I like to consider myself a humble servant of the realm. I was clearing out one of the unused rooms below the Red Keep the other day when I happened across a locked worn brown chest. I of course was curious so I broke the lock, as I am sure you would as well. Inside the box were three items, three rolls of sealed parchment and a bloody blanket that depicted a dragon and a direwolf. One was a divorce certificate of your brother Rhaegar and his Martell wife, while another was a certificate of marriage between Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark. The third piece of parchment caught my attention the most though, as it will for you I expect. It was a birth certificate for a Jon Targaryen, signed by witnesses by the names of Eddard Stark and Sir Arthur Dayne. Now, as you may know from history, Stark killed Dayne in the Tower of Joy. One can speculate that the two men probably have different plans for the newborn, one wanting to raise the boy as a Targaryen prince while the other wanting to hide the boy under another name, maybe one of a bastard. It was always curious to me that a man of such great honor as Eddard Stark would father a bastard, the bastard he brought home to Winterfell. That same bastard is now on the wall I believe. I do not believe he has taken his oath yet. It might be beneficial to the realm to have the man known as Jon Snow by the side of a conquering queen. Just a thought. I will keep these items safe for you.

The Spider

When she learned that there was another young Targaryen, Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen cried. She cried. She was not alone. Another still lived under the forced guise of a Stark bastard.

Dany jumped on Drogon that night, despite her advisers' pleas, and flew straight to the famed Wall. Even for her hotter than normal blood, the far North brought chills to her small frame. He was in the practice field when she landed. She called for him.

"Jon Snow! I'm looking for the one called Jon Snow!"

A young man with a handsome yet slightly scarred face responded in a strong voice accented by the North.

"I am Jon Snow. And you are?"

He was so different than her. While she was small, silvery blonde, and violet-eyed, Jon Snow was taller, and would grow taller, with curly brown-almost black hair and bottomless grey eyes.

"I am your family. I've come to claim you."

"The Night's Watch is my family." His voice was rehearsed. She knew she'd have a tough time breaking him.

"No, I am your real family. By blood."

"And you are who, exactly?"

"I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen."

Whispers broke out in the training yard when she pronounced her house proudly, with Drogon at her back. The brothers that surrounded Jon backed away, with the exception of a fat sort of a man-child. The man-child pulled out a sorry sword and pointed it in Dany's direction.

"Jon's no Targaryen. He's a Stark. Sort of. A bastard really, but still a Stark."

"Sam, there's no need for that. Put your sword away." Jon put his hand on Sam's shoulder.

"There is no need for that, correct. I come in peace. I have lived all my life under the finger of an abusive brother. I have not known the love of a kind relative. You have a kind face. I want to get to know you." Dany walked up to Jon, stopping close enough where she could put her hand on his cheek. He was cold. She was warm. She could feel his cheek muscles straining to hold back a smile.

"Well, that would make sense, Lady Daenerys, except I am not a Targaryen. I'm a Stark bastard."

"You are not a Stark bastard. Your father was not Eddard Stark." Jon laughed.

"Very clear milady, not going to work." He turned his back on her.

"DO NOT WALK AWAY FROM ME, NEPHEW!" Dany yelled, trying to keep her anger in check. Jon wheeled back around, lowering his face level to hers. She felt her breath hitch as she peered into his angry grey eyes. His voice was quiet, but strong.

"I am not your nephew." Each word he annunciated with a control Dany had felt herself using several times before.

"Yes, you are." She closed her eyes and could feel Drogon getting restless behind her. "Eddard Stark was your uncle, not your father."

"You lie. That's a lie!" His breath was hot, unlike his skin. All the men watching in the yard faded away. Only Jon and Dany existed.

"I do not. Your father was my brother Rhaegar Targaryen. Your mother was Lyanna Stark. You are still a Stark, Jon, just not from the Stark you thought. You are a Targaryen as well."

"Even if that was true, which it is not, that would just make me a bastard from another noble house, still worth nothing!"

"Your parents were wed before they both died! You are legitimate, Jon!"

"You lie! You're mad! Just like the Mad King!"

Before Dany could stop herself, her hand smacked Jon.

"I AM NOT MAD!" She went to slap him again, but he caught her wrist this time.

"Clearly you are, milady, because that is not true!" His grip on her was strong, firm.

"I will make you believe me."

"That's impossible. I do not believe liars!"

"Drogon! Dracarys!"

The training yard erupted in flame as the black dragon unleashed a torrent of flame, bathing Jon in orange and red. Screaming filled the cold air.

"Drogon! Stop!" The dragon closed his mouth and curled up on the cold ground. Jon was had fallen, his clothes had started to melt off of him. Dany knelt down next to him. The smell of burnt leather was there, strong, but the smell of burnt flesh was absent. His skin was unmarred by the flames.

"What the hell!" Jon's eyes were full of a mixture of fear and curiosity. Grey mixed with a violet that was not there seconds before. All Dany could do was press her small hands on his pale chest and smile.

"A true Targaryen does not burn, Jon. You are a Targaryen."

"A Targaryen."

"Yes, blood of the dragon."

"Blood of the dragon."

"Yes, my blood."