Jon thought of his uncle's words as they rode through the gift down the Kingsroad to Winterfell.
And when he wasn't thinking of the wisdom of one of the greatest among living men, he was worrying away at how to best make his play for the Iron Throne.
One thing was certain: something had to be done about his missing cousins.
He'd already taken steps to at least secure the alliance of the few holdouts among the Lords of Westeros, using Aemon's ravens with the Maester's permission to send out a missive throughout the land that read:
To All the Lords and Men of the Seven Kingdoms and its dominions –
Let it be known that the bastard styling himself as King Joffery Baratheon first of his name, is no more than the product of incest and adultery foisted on the late King Robert the Usurper by his Lannister bride Cersei.
She is henceforth convicted of high treason and line-theft and sentenced to death for her crimes, along with her son the Pretender to the Throne Joffery Waters.
May all the gods Old and new strike them down for their crimes.
Also let it be known this day, that I, Jon Balerion, true-born son of the Crown Prince Rhaegar I Targaryen, First of His Name, and his bound-Consort Benjen Stark, do lay claim to the Throne of Westeros and shall be henceforth known as King Jon I Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm.
May the gods judge my claim.
Winter is Coming and it brings Fire and Blood.
He signed it: King Jon I Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, and beneath it pressed his personal sigil into the wax: a direwolf rampant facing a three-headed dragon.
A second series of letters went out after the first: one to Robb letting his cousin know when he should be joining him, another to the Martells and other Targaryen loyalists still in hiding, a third to the loyal men of the Eyrie who were working behind the scenes to keep Robert in check, and more. One to Varys, another to the Iron Bank of Braavos so that he might have access to the Targaryen fortune there that had been lost to Westeros along with Queen Rhaella's death, and one to his Aunt Daenerys letting her know of his existence and claim. With the last, he sent it to Varys by the way the Spider used for such things, knowing that it may or may not arrive.
But at least he could say he'd tried.
More letters went out to the Targaryen men who his uncle Ned had hidden among the North, allowing them to watch over him and protect him while remaining dead to all others.
All in all, Jon was cursing himself and was blessing Harry for being able to cast a copying charm for the first letter, making it so all he had to do was sign them and seal them with his sigil while working on his second batch of letters that could have only been done in his own hand.
At least by using the Watch's ravens they had a chance of reaching their destinations. He couldn't say that the Lannisters had eyes and ears in Winterfell – but he couldn't be certain they didn't either. And besides that, the last person the now Dowager Lady Stark wanted cluttering up her solar was her late husband's dragon-born nephew who most called Ned's bastard in their ignorance of his true parentage – and thank the gods for that.
It was long days and nights on the road to Winterfell, time that Jon spent mulling over plans and talking to Harry.
One such talk had him learning that the sorcerer could disappear and reappear from sight at will as well as travel long distances in a moment – but only if he knew where he was going.
"I need at least coordinates." Harry told him when Jon asked about the possibility of him popping into King's Landing and rescuing his cousins. "Besides which from the maps I saw in Aemon's chambers Westeros is a large country – larger than the one I was born in by far. I could never Apparate from King's Landing to Winterfell while bringing passengers with me." The sorcerer shook his head. "Even for me – that's just not possible."
Which led to several conversations about the limitations of Harry's magic, though Jon knew that the warrior wasn't being entirely forthcoming.
Not that Jon could blame him.
He awoke in a new and strange reality with only Jon to rely on – and even that was only due to Jon's ability to wake him from his sleep which created a bond of sorts.
In Harry's place…Jon couldn't say he would've been all that open either.
"Tell me." Harry said one time. "Tell me all you know about the state of the realms."
Jon obliged, speaking of the Lannisters and Baratheons, the Martells and Tyrells, his uncle's murder and his aunt in the East. Through it all Harry simply watched him from calm jewel-green eyes, Jon getting the feeling that Harry was paying more attention to how he chose to say things than what he chose to say.
A feeling that if he but knew it was all too true.
Harry had gotten a crash-course in Westerosi politics thanks to his bond with the Targaryen would-be-King. And more that he'd picked up from picking the brains of Mormont and Samwell Tarly and the common men who made up the Night's Watch. He'd learned from being silent and hearing what the men didn't say when Jon was around, and from playing invisible when Jon had his audiences with Mormont and Maester Aemon.
He may not be the best Legilimense ever born but he didn't need to be in a world with a serious lack of true magic.
In fact, the only two people he'd met thus far who'd had any sort of defenses against his casual mind-sweeps were Jon and Aemon – defenses Harry attributed to either their highborn training to control themselves or their strange blood.
:::
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