***SEASON 5/A DANCE OF DRAGONS SPOILERS FOLLOWING.***

A/N: I was bored, so I was watching GoT theory videos. I really like the idea of Jon dying and just before starting his "second life" in Ghost, seeing Bran in the weirwood and having Bran reveal to him that he's the son of Lyanna and Rhaegar. I mean, come on, how freaking cool would that be!? Also. Forgive me because I just wrote this because I had the muse for it. I kinda skimmed over it, but didn't reread the entire thing. Sorry if there are grammar/spelling mistakes.

Also, because I have a sudden mass of GoT muse, I may or may not get another chapter of "A Rose Without Thorns" up. Or I may just spam you all with a bunch of cute LyannaXRhaegar stuff. Either way, enjoy!

But. As always, I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire or A Game of Thrones or any of these lovely characters. Please read and review and have a great day!

And in Death, I see Life

A thousand sensations flooded him at once. No longer did he feel the snow beneath his back, or the blood steadily leaving the steaming wounds, nor the pain crashing again and again over his beaten body. Instead he felt a wind brush up against his skin, heard the faint chirping of birds in the branches of the weirwood and across the way he saw the face of his brother - of Bran - in a tree. He'd felt it once before, these sensations. In a dream and in that dream he'd seen his brothers face in that same tree. Though this time he could not move. Instead he felt as though he was a part of the wood around him, as though it was him gazing out of the tree's bleeding eyes.

"Look," breathed Bran's voice, the word itself a wind brushing against Jon. And he felt the rush he'd felt when Bran showed him the Wildling army. Only this time, he saw no army, instead he saw two figures.

One stood taller than the other, a male dressed in full battle armor with flowing white hair and shocking purple eyes. Though the eyes were gentle, trained on the smaller figure with mouse brown hair and the grey eyes that belonged to Eddard Stark. They faced each other in the moonlight, the weirwood the only witness to the vows sliding from their lips.

"Father."

Her voice was soft, yet tones of strength rippled through it. His was musical, wisdom layering through the word. The silvery light danced through his hair, his eyes and he moved closer to her. In the silvery light, the red dragon on his breast plate shimmered. Targaryen. The word spoken from the Targaryen's lips hit Jon in a way nothing had ever hit him before. In a flash, he could have sworn the bookish Targaryen prince's eyes snapped towards the tree Jon watched from.

"Smith."

Confusion was a tide through Jon's being. Was this not Rhaegar Targaryen, the man who had stolen Lyanna away from her betrothed and her family? A jolt rocked through him. If they were here, with only the gods as their witness did it mean that the stories were wrong? That Lyanna had not, in fact, been abducted? Had she gone willingly?

"Warrior."

There was a quivering in his veins, a fire alight in his chest as he watched their eyes, their lips. Each word was a heartbeat, each smile was unraveling something within him. Only moments ago, the words 'for the watch' had echoed dully through his slipping mind and now the only ones he could hold onto were 'ice and fire.' He felt the ice in his core, felt the fire roaring through his beating heart.

"Mother."

A deep rush of emotion crashed over Jon. When he took a breath, his nostrils were assaulted by two smells. Blood and roses. Lyanna had been found a room that smelled of blood and roses. He couldn't believe it. Couldn't, though the more he saw, the more he felt, he knew it was the truth.

"Maiden."

"Crone."

"Stranger."

Their voices were one, twirling and sliding together in the misty air and in one final triumph, the last vow fell from their lips like smoke: "I am his and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days."

The next flashes were memories. Not memories of any certain human, but of nature. The brook bubbled with sympathy as red droplets of blood crashed into the water like rubies from a broken crown. The water rushed in a futile attempt to relieve the prince of his pain as his body collapsed. A name slid past his lips, despite the shadow over him. A name that curled around Jon's heart and tugged at his heartstrings. "Lyanna."

And then he was there, in the petals of the roses that littered the ground as Rhaegar Targaryen took stole a kiss from his lady wolf, who lay amid the petals. He squeezed her hand and told her that he would return for her. Jon heard the screams lifting from Lyanna's lips, heard the labored breathing that caught in her throat. And then he heard the wail of a child just born. Then he saw Eddard break into the room, kneel by his little sister. And Jon heard the words.

"Promise me, Ned."

And then he saw the child's face and it was as though he was looking in a mirror. That child was him. The shock brought him back to reality, in the cold snow and he took a few steps backwards, a whine breaking from his muzzle. Ghost. He'd remembered the last word that left his lips and remembered the warning from Melisandre. That he needed to embrace his power. Skinchanger.

The memories crashed back over him. He wasn't Ned's son. He wasn't the son of whore. He wasn't a bastard. He was the son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark.