Game of Thrones: Viserys the Three-Headed Dragon

3rd Snow

The great halls of Winterfell were steaming, filled with the aroma of roast meat and freshly baked bread.

In the hall a singer was playing the harp and singing songs.

But Jon, sitting at the end of the long hall, couldn't hear clearly amid the din of roaring fires, clinking wax dishes and drunken conversations.

The welcome dinner held for the king to receive his blessings has been going on for four full hours.

Jon had been drinking since the party and hadn't stopped yet.

He discovered that his drinking capacity was about the same as that of an adult. Under the encouragement of the cheerful young people around him, every time he drank a glass, they encouraged him to have another drink.

Jon enjoyed their company and listened with relish to each other's tales of war, hunting, and affairs. He believed that this group of companions was definitely more interesting than the princes and princesses.

Something rubbed against his feet under the long table, and when he lowered his head, he saw a pair of red eyes staring at him.

"Are you hungry again?" he asked. There was half a honey-glazed roast chicken in the middle of the table. Jon stretched out his hand to tear off a chicken leg, and suddenly came up with a plan. He cut off the whole chicken with a table knife, and then let the remaining chicken bones slide from between his legs to the ground. . "Ghost" savagely but quietly tore into the bones. His brothers and sisters were not allowed to bring wolves into the banquet hall, but Jon was at the end of the hall, where there were countless dogs, so naturally no one cared about his little wolf.

He told himself that this was a special blessing.

There was a sudden sting in his eyes, and Jon rubbed them roughly, cursing the smoke. He took another swig of wine and watched as Ghost devoured the chicken whole.

When Uncle Bunyang came to him, he was watching his Bai Ling win in a confrontation with a female dog three times its size. He smiled proudly and reached under the table to touch Bai Ling's fluffy white hair. Fluff.

"Is this the famous direwolf?" At this time, a familiar voice sounded beside him.

Jon looked up happily. Uncle Benjen put his hand on his head and ruffled his hair, just as he had ruffled Ghost's fur.

"Yes," he replied, "it's called Ghost."

An attendant who was telling a vulgar story stopped and made room for the Duke's younger brother to sit.

Benjen Stark sat astride the bench and took the goblet from Jon. "Summer red," he said slowly after taking a sip, "nothing can be as sweet as this wine. Jon, how many glasses have you had tonight?"

Jon smiled but didn't answer.

Benjen Stark smiled and said: "It's just as I expected. Haha, forget it. I remember the first time I got drunk, I was younger than you." He picked from the wooden dinner plate next to him. Pick up a grilled onion dripping with brown gravy and bite into it, making a crunchy sound.

Uncle Bunyan had a sharp face and was as thin as a rock, but there was always a smile in his gray-blue eyes. Like all the night watchmen, he was dressed in black. Tonight, he was wearing a thick velvet gown, high leather boots, a wide belt and a silver-plated buckle around his waist, and a heavy silver necklace around his neck. . Bunyan looked at Ghost with interest as he ate his onions.

"A very quiet wolf," he concluded.

"It is very different from the others," Jon said. "It is never silent, so I call it Ghost. This is also because of its fur color. The other wolves have very dark fur, either gray or black. ”

"There are direwolves outside the Great Wall, and we often hear their howls when we go out on patrol." Benjen Stark looked at Jon meaningfully, "Don't you usually eat at the same table as Brother You and the others?"

"That's a normal day," Jon replied flatly. "My lady thinks it would be an insult to the royal family to have bastards dining with them tonight."

"I see." The uncle turned to look at the dining table on the high platform at the end of the hall, "My brother doesn't seem to be in the mood to celebrate tonight."

Jon also noticed that bastards must learn to observe words and emotions and understand the joy, anger, sorrow and joy hidden in people's eyes.

Although his father's behavior was polite, there was a restraint in his expression that Jon had never seen before. He didn't speak much, and always glanced at the whole hall with low eyes, which were very empty.

The king, who was two seats away, drank happily all night long. His big face behind his beard was swollen red. He kept raising glasses and toasting. He leaned forward with joy after hearing every joke. He drank every dish like a hungry ghost. Eat endlessly. But the queen sitting next to him was like a cold statue.

"The queen is also angry," Jon whispered to his uncle, "because my father took the king to the underground tomb, and the queen did not want him to go."

Benyan looked at Jon carefully and said: "Jon, nothing can escape your eyes, can it? Our Great Wall defenders need talents like you very much."

Jon said proudly: "Robb is stronger with a spear than I am, but I am better with a sword. Hullen also said that my riding skills are among the best in the city."

"It's really not easy."

"When you go back, take me with you." Jon suddenly became excited. "As long as you tell Father, he will definitely agree. I know he will."

Uncle Benjen looked at his face again. "Jon, the Wall is a tough place for a boy."

"I'm almost of age," Jon argued. "I'll be fifteen next name day, and Maester Luwin says bastards grow faster than other children."

"It's true." The corners of Benyan's mouth tilted downward slightly. He picked up Jon's wine glass from the table, filled it with wine, and took a deep sip.

"Daeron Targaryen was only fourteen when he conquered Dorne," Jon added. The young dragon king of legend was his hero.

"That battle lasted all summer," his uncle reminded him. "This young king you're talking about lost ten thousand men to conquer Dorne, and another fifty thousand to keep it. Someone should have taught him that war is no joke." He took another sip of wine and wiped his mouth. "And Daeron Targaryen died at the age of eighteen. You didn't forget that part, did you?"

"I didn't forget anything," Jon boasted, the alcohol emboldening him. He tried to sit up straight to make himself look taller. "Uncle, I want to serve in the Night's Watch."

He had thought about this decision over and over again, and at night, when his brothers slept soundly around him, he tossed and turned.

Robb would one day inherit Winterfell and command thousands of troops as the Warden of the North.

Bran and Rickon will become Robb's vassals, own their own estates, and manage internal affairs for him.

Sisters Arya and Sansa will marry the sons of other noble families and go to their territories in the south as noble ladies.

Only he, Jon Snow, a mere bastard, what can he expect?

"Jon, you probably don't know. The Night's Watch is a group that is ready to die. We have no family ties and will never have children. We take responsibility as wives and honor as concubines."

"Bastards have the same sense of honor," Jon said, "I'm ready to swear to join."

"You are only a fourteen-year-old child," Benjen replied, "not yet an adult. Before you come into contact with a woman, I'm afraid you can't imagine how much you have to pay."

"I don't care about that!" Jon was furious.

"If you knew, you would probably care," Benjen said. "My child, if you knew what the consequences of taking this oath would be, you wouldn't be so eager to join."

Jon was even more angry when he heard this: "I'm not your child!"

Benjen Stark stood up, "I just pity that you are not my child." He patted Jon's shoulder, "Wait until you have two or three illegitimate children outside, then come to me and see what you think then."

Jon trembled all over. "I will never have any illegitimate children outside," he said word by word, "never!" He spit out the last sentence like venom.

At this time, he was surprised that everyone at the table had become silent at some point, and everyone was staring at him. He felt tears filling his eyes, and finally he stood up.

"Excuse me for leaving first," he said with the last bit of dignity, and then ran away like a whirlwind before others saw his tears fall.

He must have drunk too much, his legs seemed to be tied, and he immediately bumped into a waitress, causing a pot of spiced wine to spill on the ground, and the four seats burst into laughter.

Jon's tears rolled down his cheeks. Someone wanted to help him, but he shook off the kind hand and continued to run towards the gate with his eyes that could not see the ground. Bai Ling followed closely behind him and ran into the low night.

The empty courtyard was extremely quiet. There was only one guard on the inner wall battlement, who was curled up in a corner alone. Although he looked bored and had a sad expression, Jon had a thousand and ten thousand wishes to exchange places with him. In addition, the entire lonely city was dark and lonely.

Jon had been to an abandoned manor, where there was no one, silence and gloom, and a solemn atmosphere. Only the huge stones silently told the situation of the past owner. Tonight's Winterfell reminded Jon of the scene at that time.

The music and dance flowed out of the open window behind him, which was exactly what he didn't want to hear at the moment. He wiped his tears with his sleeve, annoyed at himself for not being able to control himself, and then turned to leave.

"Boy." Someone called him. Jon turned his head.

Tyrion Lannister was sitting on the ledge above the front door of the hall, looking down on everything in the world, like a gargoyle. The dwarf smiled at him: "Is that guy next to you a wolf?"

"It's a direwolf," Jon said, "called Bai Ling." He looked up at the dwarf, and his previous dissatisfaction was replaced by curiosity. "What are you doing there? Why aren't you in there for the dinner?"

"It's too hot and too noisy in there, and I had too much to drink," the dwarf told him. "I learned a lesson a long time ago: it's not polite to vomit on your brother. Can I get a closer look at your wolf?"

Jon hesitated, then nodded slowly, "Can you get down yourself? Or do you want me to get a ladder?"

"Go, look down on me?" the little man said. He pushed his hands back and flipped into the air. Jon was so surprised that he couldn't breathe, and he watched in amazement as Tyrion curled up into a ball, landed lightly on his hands, and then flipped back to stand up.

Bai Ling took a few steps back hesitantly.

The dwarf dusted himself off and said with a smile, "I think I must have scared your little wolf. I'm so sorry."

"He wasn't scared," Jon said, leaning over and calling, "Ghost, come here, come here, dear."

The little wolf strolled over and rubbed Jon's cheek affectionately with its nose, but remained alert to Tyrion Lannister.

When the dwarf reached out to touch it, it immediately pulled back, showing its sharp teeth and making a silent roar.

"Are you quite shy?" Lannister said.

"Ghost, sit down." Jon ordered, "That's it, sit down and don't move." He looked up at the dwarf, "You can touch him now. He won't move unless I tell him to move. ."I'm training him."

"I see." Lannister scratched the fur between Ghost's ears, which was as white as fine snow, "Good boy, wolf."

"If I hadn't been here, he would have ripped your throat out," Jon said. In fact, this cannot come true now, but it is not far away to see how little Wolf will grow.

"If so, you'd better not go away," the dwarf replied. He tilted his overly large head and looked at Jon carefully with his eyes of different sizes, "I am Tyrion Lannister."

"I know," Jon said, standing up. He stood much taller than the dwarf, which made him feel weird.

"Are you Ned Stark's bastard son?"

Jon felt a chill pierce his whole body, he pursed his lips and did not answer.

"Have I offended you?" Lannister said hurriedly, "I'm sorry, dwarves have never been very good at observing people's emotions. Anyway, the dwarf predecessors who have always been performing arts all dressed casually and spoke freely, so I followed suit. ." He chuckled, "But you are indeed an illegitimate child."

"Lord Eddard Stark is my father," Jon finally admitted.

"Well," Lannister studied his face, "I can see it. Compared with your brothers, you have more of a northerner."

"Half-brothers," Jon corrected, secretly pleased with the dwarf's statement.

"Then, little bastard, let me give you some advice." Lannister said, "Never forget who you are, because the world will not forget. You must turn resistance into help, so that there will be no weaknesses. Use Arm yourself with it and no one can use it to hurt you.”

Jon was not in the mood to listen to lectures: "Do you know what it's like to be a bastard again?"

"All dwarfs in the world are no different from illegitimate children in the eyes of their father."

"You are your mother's biological son, a true Lannister."

"Really?" the dwarf smiled bitterly, "Go and tell my father this. My mother died in childbirth when giving birth to me, so my father is never sure whether I am his biological child."

"I don't even know who my mother is," Jon said.

"It's a woman anyway." He showed a sad smile to Jon, "Boy, please remember that although dwarfs all over the world may be regarded as bastards, illegitimate children do not necessarily have to be regarded as dwarfs."

After saying that, he turned around and returned to the banquet hall with a hunched back, humming a love tune in his mouth. The moment he opened the door, the indoor lights cast his back clearly in the courtyard. At that moment, Tyrion Lannister stood tall and upright.

That night, Jon had that vague and strange dream again, dreaming of a sea covered by dark clouds.

This chapter contains original content, but it is very necessary, so I will post it as a single chapter. The foreshadowing is just for the last sentence. Jon's fate will change slightly due to the dreams that have troubled him during this period. His identity anxiety reaches its peak during the king's visit. Mysterious things take the opportunity to exert subtle influence, and he has to make choices among more possibilities.

The most interesting thing about Binghuo is that no matter how things develop, it is still the person who makes the final decision.

By the way, let me say it in advance. There is some speculation that Tyrion was born to the Mad King and Tywin’s wife. On this matter, I believe what Aunt Gina said: Tyrion is Tywin’s child.

Contrary to conspiracy theories, Joanna may have had an affair with the Mad King and may have given birth to golden twins. The arguments are: 1. Queen Layla said she hated Aerys getting involved with the female officials around her. 2. Queen Layla drove Joanna back to Casterly Rock and ordered her not to come to King's Landing again. 3. Iris was very happy after the golden twins were born and gave them many gifts. 4. Cersei’s love for fire. 5. Jaime’s weirwood dream.

I am not saying this here to prove this conspiracy theory. It just means that in the book I will selectively ignore some conspiracy theories that have no solid basis and each has its own theory, and treat all the Lannister family members as Lannister.