Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos

"The longer you live, the more knowledge you accumulate, that phrase was a perfect fit for Aemon Targaryen, Son of Maekar I, the man was a living, walking library." Aenar Targaryen on Maester Aemon.

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Jon felt an unconscionable fury lurking behind his great-uncle's apparent serenity. He was absolutely certain that if Aemon had been young and strong, he would have taken up a sword and infiltrated King's Landing, ready to slay the mortal enemies of House Targaryen.

Of that, Jon had no doubt, the man of almost a hundred years in front of him hid a fury as great as a volcano, ready to bring death and ashes to nourish the soil again.

"Maester Aemon, Jon Snow, Eddard Stark's bastard, wishes to ask permission to visit Castle Black's Library." Clydas approached Aemon and helped the old man carry the book in his arms.

The man's pale, blind lilac eyes fell on the ten-year-old in an instant, and Jon felt a shiver run through his body at the sight of those eyes, which could no longer see. A wise, gentle gaze, but it hid a powerful feeling, sharpened by time.

He couldn't see, but Jon felt that he could still see the outline of something, even if it was such a blurred image.

"Does young Snow wish to have knowledge?" Aemon asked, his slow steps approaching a chair slightly away from the fireplace.

"We all need knowledge, we're no different from animals without it controlled by our emotions." Jon replied with a smile as he removed the hood that hid his face.

Clydas looked at the young man in surprise; for some reason, the bastard's eyes reminded him of those of Maester Aemon. Although the color was different, the feeling was the same, as if he were looking at a prince, or in the case of the young man in front of him, the eyes of a king.

Aemon stopped his slow steps for a moment and replied in his slightly hoarse, weak voice. "Wise words, Young Snow."

"What brings you to the Wall?" He continued to ask as he moved towards the chair. The man had lived in this tower for so long that he already knew where every item was, even if he couldn't see it.

"To observe the creation of my ancestors and to see someone very important to me." Jon helped Aemon to sit down and sat next to the old man, the heat from the fireplace warming the whole room without a problem.

"A relative?" Aemon repeated the question to himself, while a nostalgic smile appeared on his lips, as if remembering something long lost.

"Certainly." Jon confirmed, looking at the old Maester in front of him. He looked small and bent by age, but despite being almost a hundred years old, he exuded an impressive vitality in his will and determination.

"When I found out he existed, all I could think about was telling him that I existed too, so that he wouldn't feel alone in such a cold and distant world."

Aemon let out a surprised expression when he heard those words. The man young Snow was talking about seemed to share the same burden as him.

Alone. Aemon knew that feeling well. No one should have to endure such loneliness, without a family to lean on in difficult times. The old Maester's lips trembled, and the anger he had felt ten years ago bubbled up again in his chest, only to be quickly subdued by his self-control.

"Tell me, Maester Aemon, what would you do if you knew that what you were about to do could bring death and misery to an entire continent?" Jon asked, looking away from the flames in the fireplace.

For a moment, he saw the fire come to life, transforming into a dragon that incinerated an entire city. Screams of horror and despair echoed in his ears.

Yet Jon's expression remained indifferent, even in the face of that terrifying sight. Because of his powers, he was more than used to facing death up close. If he were to count all the times he had witnessed someone die, he could very well spend a lifetime listing them.

"You seem to carry a heavy burden, Jon Snow." Placing his hands on his knees, Aemon said. "But if you want my advice, I'll give it to you."

"Kill the boy and let the man be born."

"I killed the boy a long time ago." Jon's lips curved into a sad smile at his words. "I killed him the moment I decided to be King."

A deafening, suffocating silence hung in the air. Even Clydas didn't dare breathe for fear of disturbing what was about to happen. He looked at Eddard Stark's Bastard and assumed something he'd never thought in his life.

Aemon's hands trembled, not only that, his soul trembled. He rose from his chair and approached the young man.

Raising his hands, Aemon felt another pair of hands grasp his and guide them to the warm touch of a face. Without delay, her hands traced the contours of his face. He could feel his hands trembling as the familiar contours were drawn in his mind.

It was a completely different face, but there was a familiarity that he could never forget.

"Egg, you look like Egg, my brother." The words that left his lips were something Aemon never thought he would say again.

"You're the son of Rhaegar and Lady Lyanna Stark." Aemon came to the conclusion in an instant. He had exchanged letters with the prince and remembered vividly that the man had told him that his second wife was pregnant.

Aemon kept moving his hands over Jon's face, as if he thought that when he stopped, it was just a joke his mind was playing on him.

Tears streamed down his cheeks as the almost one hundred years-old man hugged one of his only remaining relatives on the continent, and perhaps in the whole world, with fervor and emotion.

Jon couldn't help but smile and hugged the old man, feeling his body tremble. He knew exactly what it felt like to be alone, but unlike Aemon, instead of being dead, his past life relatives simply abandoned him when they learned that he had no chance of survival.

"You're not dreaming and I'm more than real, Great-Uncle." Jon said, patting the old Maester on the back, treating him like a child. However, his eyes fell on Clydas, who desperately wanted to reduce his sense of existence at this moment.

Clydas swallowed dryly, he wished he was deaf at that moment, because the purple eyes staring at him were very frightening. He knew exactly what that look meant. If he dared to say anything, he'd be dead!

"Tell me how you grew up." Aemon broke away from the embrace and still holding Jon's arm, he asked with a smile that seemed very innocent, like a grandfather wanting to hear his grandson's stories.

Jon didn't refuse and began to tell without hiding anything, he didn't hide the treatment he suffered from Catelyn at Winterfell. However, he talked about happy things for the most part. He didn't want to cause an angry heart attack in an old man nearly a hundred years old.

Aemon nodded in satisfaction at the way his grandnephew had done over the years, especially when it came to how to deal with Catelyn. "You did well not to submit to Lady Stark, people like that get even more unscrupulous as time goes by. She would have killed you if you'd shown yourself to be weak."

Still, the thought of the heir to his house being treated with such disrespect was simply unacceptable to him. Fortunately, according to Jon, Lord Stark was an honorable human and managed to control his wife before things got even worse.

"Don't worry, great-uncle, I know how to control myself, I don't want to leave my cousins motherless so soon. Although I won't deny that I dreamt about the redfish being eaten by Caraxes." Jon replied with a proud smile.

Not once or twice had he wanted to turn Catelyn into dragon food, but he'd never gone through with the idea. He didn't want his cousins to grow up without a mother, something essential for the growth and maturation of any child.

"Caraxes?" Aemon asked with a curious tone. He certainly knew that it was the name of the Valyrian God of Violence and War, as well as the name of a very famous dragon from House Targaryen. He assumed that Jon had given the name to a ferocious dog.

"My dragon, Caraxes." Jon replied casually as he looked at Aemon with a smiling look, he really enjoyed seeing people's reactions when he revealed the truth about Caraxes.

Aemon remained silent for a moment as if processing the extremely important information and when he did, it caused an expression of shock to appear on Jon's face.

"Can I fly it?" He asked, his voice not hiding his excitement and curiosity, almost like a child asking to drive his father's car.

His words made Jon start laughing. "HAHAHAHAHHA!!!"

"Looks like your flame hasn't gone out yet, Uncle Aemon!" Jon said with a big smile appearing on his lips. "And yes, I'm taking you flying in Caraxes."

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