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Jon Snow

"Winter is coming."

The words of his father's house. Not his though. He was a bastard. A Snow, not a Stark. No crown, or kingdom, or army would change that. No matter what he achieved he would always be a Snow. He didn't have the right to claim the name Stark, or Targaryen if what Bran said was true. Not after he had failed so badly.

"You shouldn't blame yourself."

Snorting Jon looked at the only living Stark left in the world.

"If you're truly this three-eyed raven and know everything then you should know why I have every right to blame myself." He said and looked away from his crippled brother and back into his reflection staring back at him from the small pool before the Heart tree in the Godswoods of Winterfell.

Scowling he averted his gaze to the red canopy above him. He didn't want to see himself. Not now, when his bannermen were fighting for their lives outside of Winterfell and he was here away from the fight. He should be out there with the others. Fighting and if the gods willed it, dying alongside those who chose to follow him.

"You didn't bring the White Walkers south of the Wall, Jon. Nor did you create them. That fault lies with the Children of the forest and the Seven Kingdoms for letting the Nights Watch become what it was before you joined." Bran said and Jon wished he could believe him.

"I really do." But he couldn't. He was the one the realm had chosen to lead them through the second Long Night. Daenerys may have been named Queen but even she looked to him when the White Walkers and their army of the dead came through the wall. And now, months later, the Night king was knocking on the Gates of Winterfell with two dragons breathing blue flames.

Because Jon Snow, bastard turned crow, turned wildling who became Lord commander then went on to be named king had failed in all of his duties.

"We have lost this battle," Bran stated blankly and bluntly. "But we have not lost the war."

"Bran," Jon sighed scrubbing a hand down his face. "There is nowhere left to go. Every man dying outside the walls right now will come back as a wight. We don't have enough men to fight the Night King's army and we don't even have a dragon to fight his. We've lost."

"No, we haven't. I see our victory."

"I thought you couldn't see the future?"

Bran shook his head and set a hand upon the Heart tree his fingertips brushing the bottom of the trees face. Jon was right, the three-eyed raven could see everything except the future for it was ever changing. "But I can see the past. And that is where our victory lies."

"I don't understand."

"You will." Bran held and hand out and Jon reached for it cautiously.

Bran was his brother and he loved him but he was still cautious of the magic his sibling wielded.

And he was right to for the second Bran's hand enclosed around his own his eyes rolled back into his head he heard more than felt the gasp leaving his body.

Then there was darkness. It was all around him, circling and suffocating him leaving no room to escape.

"Open your eyes, Jon." Bran's voice called and Jon's eyes opened.

It took him a second to get his bearings straight but when he did gasped again.

"Bran! Your standing!"

Bran smiled but shook his head. "That is the first thing you notice? Look around you."

Jon did and a third gasp tore through his throat.

"I'm standing in a house." It was a nice house too. Well furnished and decorations that looked like they cost more than a bit of coin decorated the walls. Gold vases set upon dark well-crafted tables holding flowers of a kind he had not seen in Westeros. Not that he had seen much of it between the North, beyond the wall and Dragon stone.

"You never liked any of this, did you, Jon?" Bran's smile dimmed but it didn't fade completely. "Even when you became King you didn't have servants or sleep in the Lords chambers in Winterfell. You were more at home skinning a dear in the stables then you were speaking to Lords of the North even when you were so good at it."

"I failed as King, Bran. I wasn't good at ruling."

"We wouldn't have lasted as long as we did if you were a terrible King. The realm was doomed before you became King in the North. That's what we are here to stop."

"Bran, I don't understand. How are we here? Where are we and where is the Godswood?" Jon asked seconds before a scream echoed throughout the house they were in.

Turning to where he thought the sound originated Jon saw a flight of stairs and frowned when a young boy with dirty blonde, nearly brown hair appeared at the top. He couldn't have been even five name days old so the look of absolute terror on the child's face made the blood in Jon's veins boil.

The last boy he had seen such a look of fear on was Rickon. "Right before an arrow killed him."

Starting forward intent on ending whatever was scaring the child as blonde hair became red and the silk cloths became furs Jon was stopped by a quick hand grabbing his shoulder.

"We can't interfere," Bran said as the boy slipped on the first step an went tumbling down landing at the bottom. At the top of the stairs, a man dressed in a black cloak looked down at the boy and the pool of blood around his head.

"Pity, I was looking forward to ending the Blackfyres, me'self." Then quick as he appeared he was gone leaving Jon to stare in shock. He had just witnessed another murder of a child.

Bran seemed to know where his thoughts were heading and spoke keeping the darker ones from reaching the light but his words only brought darker thoughts in their place.

"The fall didn't kill him, Jon. We are."

"I'm not killing a child, Bran," Jon said dryly believing the words to be a jest. Bran had been different since his return to Winterfell, but all the Stark children had changed. He still loved each of them with everything he had. No matter the blood on Arya's hands, or Sansa's plots to win the game for the Iron Throne. They were his sisters just as Bran was his brother and he saw the best in each of them.

"He wouldn't really kill a child."

"Maester Aemon once told you to kill the boy and let the man live, Jon. This is that."

Jon's head shook his mind refusing to process what he was hearing. Bran, sweet little Bran who he had helped teach to shoot a bow was not asking him to help in the murder of a child.

"He is going to die anyway, Jon. Jaehaerys Blackfyre never wakes from this sleep. His mind is gone. And yours will take its place."

"The boy dies and the man lives," Jon repeated the words but he still wouldn't help in whatever it was Bran was doing. He may be a bastard but he was not Ramsay Snow. He didn't kill children.

"I know you don't want to do this Jon. It's not in your nature to be cruel, and that is why I'm not giving you a choice." Bran said as he kneeled, one hand still on Jon's shoulder and the other reaching out for the broken boy at their feet.

Jon opened his mouth to demand Bran stop except no words could come out in time. For as soon as Bran's hand touched young Jaehaerys back Jon's eyes' went white as his pupil's rolled back his vision going black.

"Forgive me, Jon. But the realm needs a king, not a prince."

XxX

"Bran!" Purple eyes shot open and Jon tried to sit up but two small hands on his shoulders held him down pushing him back into the soft bed underneath him.

"You should not try to move yet, Jaehaerys. You are still hurt."

Blinking trying to clear the film of fuzz covering the world Jon's lips lowered in a confuse frown. Why was he being called Jaehaerys? And why did whoever was speaking have and Essosi accent?

He got one answer when his vision cleared and he saw the woman bending over him. Dark of skin and wearing what he learned from Daenerys was a slave collar only legal in the cities of Essos.

"Who are you?" He demanded and his frown deepened when he heard how soft his voice was.

"Shhh," The strange woman hushed him gently and her clear blue eyes glistened with tears that rolled down two high cheekbones. "You mustn't speak right now. You're still weak and need rest, my Lord."

Unable to see over or behind the woman and the woman too occupied with him neither noticed the man entering the room.

"Stupid girl!"

Jon flinched as the woman went careening to the side and slammed into the floor. Where she once kneeled now stood a morbidly obese man with pig's eyes and fat cheeks. A huge white belly and a pair of heavy breasts that sag like sacks of suet covered with coarse yellow hair bounced in front of Jon's face as the man heaved in anger.

It was a disgusting visage but the man's actions disgusted Jon more. Not only did this man own a slave but he struck her as well.

"My young lord, I apologize for her words. She should know better than to assume to command a man such as yourself." The fat man said bowing his head.

Jon, his head aching with confusion sat up using shaking arms to push his small body up from so he was sitting on the bed. He was confused as to why he was so small but he pushed it aside for the moment still fuming at the treatment of the woman.

"Touch her again and I'll gut you." He growled glaring at the fat man whose eyes went wide and flinched back.

"O...of course young lord."

"Good, now...who are you?" Jon demanded of the man not letting up on his stare.

The fat man looked shocked and his beady eyes went to the woman on the ground.
"What is this?" He demanded.

"He hit his head, my lord. The Maester said his memories may suffer."

"My head?" Jon didn't understand. He hadn't hit his head. Where was Bran?

Looking around he could not see his younger brother anywhere in the room. But as he looked his realized why the woman and the fat man looked strange. He wasn't in Winterfell or maybe even Westeros.

Like the room, he and Bran had stood in when the boy had fallen and Bran had suggested killing him this room looked much the same. Adorned with silk and gold instead of furs and wood.

But what most shocked him was the mirror hanging on the wall across from his bed and what lied within the glass. Where once dark gray nearly black eyes stared back at him, now a pair of equally striking purple eyes were watching him.

Watching as he reached up and set a small hand on a small head covered in not black curls but dirty blonde hair.

"Bran, what did you do to me?"

Illyrio Mopatis

Walking through the gardens of his home Illyrio nodded to the servants who passed him by as he walked. When once they would have shied away and attempted to make themselves as small as they could lest invoke his ire, now they nodded back and walked heads held higher. "As if they were no longer slaves to him."

They thought they were safe under the protection of the Lord of the house.

Oh yes, young Jaehaerys had changed much since the day his would-be assassin failed to kill him. Illyrio and any and all servants serving in his home could see that. Where once a nice cheerful young boy who didn't wish pain on anyone ran the halls now stood a sullen boy who glared at those that didn't follow his 'laws'.

Jaehaerys Blackfyre was living up to his bloodlines royal presence... and its ruthlessness. Even though he was a guest in his house Illyrio didn't deny the boy justice when he called for it. He needed the child after all. Jaehaerys would be the tool which won him all the riches in Westeros.

"If the boy wants to imprison anyone who hits a slave?" Well, a sly grin appeared underneath an oiled yellow forked beard. The other lesser merchants he allowed to stay with him struck their 'servants' in front of audiences. Made them believe themselves powerful. Being able to do what they did in the broad light of day with no consequence.

Even now some had not learned to start striking when night had fallen and there were no prying eyes to report to the 'young lord'. The other merchants didn't see how things were changing and it was a wonderful thing. Some of those men he owed money to but if Jaehaerys kept his sense of justice by the time he became Master of Coin in Westeros he would be free of all debts.

And he would be Master of Coin, richest man in Westeros and Essos. It was a certain now that Jaehaerys had come into his name. Where once the boy shunned his lessons both in the training yard with a sword and in the Maester chambers where he learned of the lands he would one day rule, in the days after his near death experience he was in the library and courtyard before his teachers. Training and studying harder than he ever had. And it showed.

Besting the boy he hired to spar against him and reciting answers to questions the Maester had yet to teach him.

"Late night reading." Was the answer anyone received when questioning the boy on how he knew such things.

Halting his journey through the gardens Illyrio looked out at the sea between him and his goal. Soon he would be on a boat with a thousand more behind him sailing to conquer Westeros just as Aegon had done three hundred years ago.

Jon Snow II

"Two years." That was how long he had.

Bent over a history book he had taken from one of Illyrio's libraries' Jon traced a finger down the words written on the last page. Through the whole thing, there was nothing about the Tourney of Harrenhal, Roberts Rebellion or the fall of the Targaryens. At first, he thought it was because he was in Essos and maybe they just didn't know that Westeros had changed but then he remembered Daenerys was from Essos and she ruled the Free cities so she must have told someone.

She had even spoken of Illyrio, the fat merchant who housed her and her brother in a successful attempt to gain Visery's favor. Yet looked startled when he asked if he knew anyone named Daenerys. Of course, the merchant could have been lying to him, which was the most obvious conclusion, except everyone believed it was 281 AC.

Two years before Prince Rhaegar and Lyanna Starks deaths as well as the birth of Jon Snow and Roberts ascension to the crown.

"And so much more."

Year 282 AC was when the Seven Kingdoms began to implode.

"Jaehaerys?"

"Gods that name." Jon squeezed his eyes shut before looking up from the book he was reading and saw a sweaty Illyrio standing before him heaving and puffing. "No doubt just back from another one of his walks."

"Can I help you, Illyrio?"

"A servant has come forward, my lord. Accusing a merchant I gifted a room to of harassing her." Illyrio lowered his head and spoke with a false sadness that Jon hated. He knew everything the man did was a mummers farce. Nothing but lies because he believed Jon would one day rise up as the Blackfyres of did and win the Iron Throne.

"No, not Jon. Jaehaerys." But the merchant's wishes would never come true. The boy Jaehaerys Blackfyre was dead and the man Jon Snow lived. "And I am never going to sit on that godforsaken throne."

Not after it had taken so much from him. Caused so much pain to the ones he loved. No, he was never going to sit on the Iron Throne, not if he could help it.

"Jaehaerys?" Illyrio called again and Jon wanted to scream at the man. To shout and rage that his name was Jon and he was not a Blackfyre. That he was a Stark. But he wasn't. Not anymore.

"How did he harass her?" Jon asked pushing his thoughts on the Iron Throne away for the moment. He didn't have time to think such things when he was so busy running Illyrio's house. Another plot by the merchant. Give him a taste of power to not only help him learn to rule but also be grateful in the future.

But he didn't want the power, or the silk clothing and servants. He wanted the cold winds of the North against his face and furs from animals he hunted.

"He tried to...force himself upon her, my lord. Luckily other servants were nearby and stopped it before it could go too far."

"Rape." Jon spat disgusted. "Where is he now?"

"In the dungeons, my lord."

"Bring him into the courtyard. And get me a sword sharp enough to cut bone." Jon ordered closing his book. "The punishment for his crime will be death."

Illyrio if surprised didn't show it and Jon turned away his silk red cloak billowing behind him as he walked from his room heading for the courtyard. This wouldn't be his first execution, watching or dealing the killing blow but he still sent a prayer to the old gods. There were no Weirwood trees in Essos so he wouldn't be able to pray in a Godswood when the deed was done like had done in Winterfell.

"My Lord,"

Reaching the courtyard Jon didn't blink at the group gathered around the red cobblestone area. Servants were always happy to see their tormentor face justice. Usually flogging for striking a servant but this time it would be different.

And from the hushed whispers, he could hear coming from the crowd, everyone knew a man was going to die today.

Nodding to the cell guard bowing before him Jon took the sword being offered and strode into the center of the courtyard where a block of stone his waist-high waited for him.

Moments later Illyrio entered the yard trailed by two more cell guards dragging a sniveling, smelling sack of a man that left a trail of...Jon wrinkled his nose as did others. This was a man who wasn't going to die bravely.

As the man was forced to a kneel and bent of the stone Jon held the bastard sword he had been giving in his hands the tip just touching the stone at his feet.

"I, Jaehaerys Blackfyre, first of my name sentence you to die. If you have any last words I will hear them now."

"P..p..please, my lord, mercy." The man begged crying fat tears as yellow liquid began to pool around his knees.

Jon's resolve never wavered as he hefted his sword above his head and brought it down. There would be no mercy from him.

Sharpened steel sliced through flesh and bone easily giving the man a quick death.

As the head rolled Jon turned away and walked from the courtyard sword still in hand leaving all others in the courtyard to stare after their young lord. A boy of five name-days who had just executed a man and didn't shed a single tear.

It would be the talk of Pentos for a year before the city gained something knew to whisper about.

Another Jon Snow time travel Fic.

I know, I know...this makes three. But it's not my fault. Time travel fics are awesome and I like exploring the what if's. This one is a little different than the 'Long Night', and 'Bastard of Winterfell' which have not been abandoned. Been a little busy but I'm back now and will be updating weekly if not sooner.

I hope you guys like this story as much as my other ones! Let me know what you think in the reviews!

P.S. Bran used his three-eyed raven powers to bring Jon back in time with him and then forced Jon to Warg into Jaehaerys. Don't think I need to explain what happened but just in case ;)

Thanks for reading!