Author's Note: Thanks for reading the first chapter. It was just something random I made up on my own, so I was suprised that so many people liked it.

I also have another free original story "Memories of a Soul of the Underworld" which you can check out on Booksie or my blog. The address is in my profile.

If you enjoy more of this kind of witty style, I have a story called "How I was Murdered by a Fox Monster," up on Amazon, so please check it out if you get the chance.

"Just remember, you're not Rhaegar Targaryen anymore," said Jon as he walked through the halls of castle black with Rhaegar and Davos strolling beside him. "You're his son Viserous Targaryen who's trying to protect his real identity by pretending to be a commoner named Fred."

"There's so many lies that I don't know how to keep up anymore," muttered Rhaegar.

"Well you're going to have to," said Davos. "We don't have any other choice, your grace, I mean Fred."

Rhaegar sighed. "I can see there is no other option than for me to take on this great burden. Let's just go fight the army of the dead and get this over with. Fetch me a sword and shield. I shall sacrifice my life for your cause and fight to the death."

Jon and Davos exchanged eye contact.

"Unfortunately you can't do that yet, sir," said Davos.

"Why ever not?" Rhaegar asked.

"Because they're not here."

"Then where are they?"

"Beyond the wall."

"Then let's go find them."

"We can't," said Jon. "It's too much of a risk and we can't afford to lose more men than we need to. Our best place to fight them is here on the wall. Where we have the advantage."

"And how long until they arrive?" Asked Rhaegar.

"It depends," said Davos.

"On what?"

"When they get here."

Rhaegar moaned and began massaging his temples. "There have been dozens of stories about the long night and the night strollers-"

"Nightwalkers," Davos corrected.

"But they were all treated like fairytales," Rhaegar continued. "How can you confirm that they even exist?"

"Oh, there is no doubt about their existence," said Davos. "Jon here has personally seen and fought them hand to hand on several occasions."

"If you fought and survived the legendary nightwalkings. Then how did you best them?" Asked Rhaegar.

"Well," said Jon. "We fought for a bit. Then once I got away in a boat."

"A boat?"

"Yeah, a boat. You know, it's wooden. Floats on the ocean."

"I may have spent most of my life at King's Landing and then perished in battle, but I still know what a boat is, Jon."

"Oh yeah, of course you would, your … Fred," Jon coughed.

"But don't they have boats? Why are you putting all your efforts into defending this wall if they can just float around it?"

"They haven't got any boats," said Jon.

"How do you know that?"

"Because I didn't see any boats."

"But perhaps they could have placed them out the back where your eyes could not glance upon them."

"They walked thousands of miles across a frozen wasteland to attack us. I'm fairly certain that they didn't bring any boats with them."

"But they could make them?"

"They can't make boats."

"Why not?"

"They're an army of the dead. Their fingers are all stiff and falling off. They can't hold tools, or draw up plans."

"Maybe that's what they want you to think Jon," Rhaegar's voice was slowly becoming louder and more emotional. "They've made a show of walking around until now, trying to make you think that they're simple. But perhaps it's all just a ploy to trick you into thinking that they'll go marching into the wall, when actually, they'll come sailing around it when your guard's down."

"They're not going to do that," said Jon.

"Why not."

"Because they won't!" Cried Jon.

"So you're saying that they can raise the dead and plot to take over all of Westeros, but they can't slap a few canoes together!"

"They're whitewalkers! Not whitefloaters."

"He does have a point Jon," said Davos. "It's foolish to assume that they won't devise another plan. We can't afford to overlook the beaches. Even if the whitewalkers don't choose to attack from the sea some of our enemies might."

"Okay, fine," said Jon. "Send a team to keep a look out."

"Right away, Sir," said Davos. He turned and walked away.

Jon crossed his arms and took one long hard look at Rhaegar.

"Are you happy now?"

"Oh, I'm never happy Jon. Some say that I was born into misery. Destined to be beautiful but sorrowful until my untimely end."

Jon sighed. He was hit by the crushing realisation that he'd have to put up with a Targaryen prince until the final battle against the dead.

He tried to console himself into thinking that if an entire kingdom could put up with Rhaegar, then he, Jon Snow, could also somehow manage it.

He led Rhaegar into the commander's office and closed the door behind them.

"I have some clothes for you," said Jon.

"Splendid. I've been wanting to get out of this blood soaked armour for hours. I request a garment from your best silks. Fashioned in either gold, red, or blue. I may not have any money on me now, but the crown can reward you handsomely."

Jon dumped a pile of black cloth into Rhaegar's arms.

"What are these decrepit rags?"

"They're your new clothes."

"But they're all worn, and black. Terribly so."

"The color doesn't matter."

"But if I wear these, everyone will think that I'm an impoverished emotional wreck who's incapable of happiness."

Jon tried his best to keep his face straight. "Those are my clothes."

"Oh," said Rhaegar while trying his best to think of something nice to say. "Now that I look at them they are... slightly fashionable. Your sense of style is….passable."

"You got to wear clothes like this," said Jon with frustration. "No commoner named Fred walks around dressed as a prince."

"Fine, if you insist. I shall endure this for the greater good- what are you doing!" He snapped as Jon leaned forward and began messing up his hair.

"Your hair, I've just realised that it's too pale, and too well groomed for a common northern man."

"Yes, but I'm not actually a regular commoner," Rhaegar brushed Jon's hand away. "I'm actually a prince, whose posing as a his own son, who's posing as a commoner, who may be bad at posing as a commoner and has decided to upkeep his well groomed hair and clear complection."

"That's never going to work."

"Well, perhaps Fred could be high born. I could be the child of a rich lord."

"It's too late for that. There aren't any lords around here with any sons named Fred."

"But my name could be short for Fredrigo, or Fredwrich?"

"There are none of those either."

"You could just make my family up."

"I can't. It's the north! All the men know everyone in this place."

"Then tell them that I'm someone else. Someone who actually has a shred of honor."

"I can't, I've already introduced you as Fred the lowborn who walked all the way here and knocked on the door last night, I can't just walk back there and tell them that you're somebody else."

"And I thought you were supposed to be in charge around here."

Jon chose to ignore that comment.

"I found you a place to sleep too."

"Excellent. I know that we're in the back waters, but I would be content with one of your moderately sized rooms with a bed made from swan feathers or down."

"Yeah, you aren't going to find a room like that in Castle Black."

"Oh."

"But I found you the warmest room."

"Well at least that's something to look forward to."

"But you'll be sharing it with eight other men."

"Eight other men! I've never shared a room with another man since Viserys stopped wetting his bed."

"Well there's a first time for everything. Just think of it as a challenge!"

"Oh, well. I have always wanted to meet the great knights of the watch. I look forward to spending the evenings listening to their tales of honor and adventure."

"Yeah, about that. The men here mostly consist of murderers, rapists, and thieves."

"They're what!?"

"But I put you in a room with the nicest murderers, rapists, and thieves."

"That hardly makes me feel any better Jon."

"Except for Harley, I heard that he may have a thing for blondes."

"Do you jest?"

"Look you'll be fine," said Jon as he began pushing Rhaegar outside the room. "They're great men, once you look past all their faults and really get to know them."

"Jon!"

"Just give me a few hours and then I'll take you there myself."

"Jon!"

He then succeeded in pushing Rhaegar outside the room and shutting the door behind him. He did feel slightly sorry for the man whose face was contorted in horror, but he assured himself that it was necessary in order to help Rhaegar adjust to life on the wall.

Jon collapsed at his desk in exhaustion. Relieved to finally have a moment to himself.

Then there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Jon ordered.

He expected to see Davos, one of his men, or at least someone of importance, but instead he looked up to see Rhaegar yet again standing before him.

"Jon?" Asked Rhaegar.

"What?"

"I just have one question."

"What is it?"

"What's Fred's last name?"

Jon bit his lip. He had completely forgotten about that.

"I don't know, just think something up on your own."

"How about something romantic. Like Moonbeam?"

"That's a terrible last name."

"Can I have your last name? Can I be Snow too?"

"If you really want to."

"But if we have the same last name it would be strange if we weren't related. We could tell everyone that we're related," his face broke into a grin. "I could be your beloved distant cousin who's come for a visit. You didn't realise at first, but once we began discussing our mutual relatives the truth came to the surface."

"Or we could...not."

"Oi new guy!" Cried a man's voice from somewhere outside the window. "You ain't gonna last a day out here snowflake!"

The voice was followed by several laughs and the sound of footsteps.

Rhaegar and Jon rushed to the open window but they were already gone.

"Did you hear that!" Cried Rhaegar. "Those cowardly men just insulted my honour!"

"You're new. They're just testing you out."

"Nobody would have dared insulted Rhaegar Targaryen like that back in the day!"

"You're not Rhaegar Targaryen here! You're Viserous- I mean Fred, and you need to start acting like him."

"Hmph," Rhaegar scoffed.

"I have things I need to do, just look busy, can you do that for me."

"If you insist," said Rhaegar, but his eyes didn't look away from the view outside.

I still have a few more ideas, so I'll post another chapter when I get the chance. While you are waiting you can check out my original story "How I was Murdered by a Fox Monster," on Amazon if you have the chance.