Chapter 30 - Return to Winterfell (I)

Chapter 30 - 30 - Return to Winterfell (I)"Revolution, rebellion, insurrection, riot, subversion, tumult. All words used by others to make other desperate people realize their ambitions. Words every monarch hates, and I'm no different." Aenar Targaryen, God Emperor of Planetos.

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Westeros - North.


Jon warmed himself by the fire, roasting a rabbit under the orange flames. His purple eyes fell on the cloaked wooden cage and he smiled. The young dragon was like a curious child, always trying to see what he thought was new.

The hatchling had a completely different personality than Caraxes, his brother was a voracious warrior and lover of war, as cruel as his face seemed. He loved the smell of blood and the charred corpse of his dragon flames. The young dragon, on the other hand, was playful and eager to explore, full of a free and graceful spirit.

Jon liked the hatchling, it would be one of the most important dragons of House Targaryen in the future, just like Dreamfyre, it would be the origin of many dragons.

He wasn't afraid to show the dragon to his uncle, on the contrary, he wanted to show it to him and force him to prepare for the coming war.

Just as Jon was about to pick up the rabbit and eat it, his movements stopped and he looked south from where he was standing. The sound of horses appeared on the horizon, becoming clearer and more audible until he knew that four or five horses were approaching.

And it wasn't long before five horses in different coats appeared before Jon, the crest they wore making him narrow his eyes dangerously.

A pink skinned man.

House Bolton of the Dreadfort.



Honestly, if it had been Roose Bolton, Jon might have been able to hide his dislike for such a disgusting noble house, but the one before him was anything but honorable, he was a monster in human skin. A man Jon didn't even consider human, but an animal driven by instinct and predation.

Standing in front of Jon was an ugly young man, tall and thin with pink and blotchy skin that showed he would be fat at the latest in his life. His lips were plump and looked like worms when he smiled, his eyes were small, narrow and strangely pale, like two shards of dirty ice.

Ramsay Snow.

"What have we here, a handsome boy alone and riding an expensive horse?" Ramsay, who rode a red horse named Blood, looked at Jon and commented with a disgusting, ugly smile that would disgust any woman with a normal sense of aesthetics.

But the boy's next words made Ramsay's smile disappear completely. The pale, strange eyes narrowed in a dangerous, murderous curve.

"What do we have here, a bastard pretending to be someone important and his fellow rapists?" Jon replied with a smile on his face, looking at Ramsay without hiding the disgust in his eyes.

"And who is the noble lord in front of me?" Ramsay forced a smile, which only made him uglier than usual.

"Jon Snow of Winterfell." Jon spoke, looking at Ramsay with a teasing smile.

Ramsay's face tightened visibly for a moment. He looked at the boy and saw his purple eyes and black hair and knew for sure that he was Eddard Stark's bastard. And just as the rumors said, the boy had taken after his mother, Ashara Dayne. This made the young bastard's heart burn with envy and jealousy like never before.

His mother was a commoner of filthy birth, and he was born ugly and without much talent. His father didn't accept him and despised him, while everyone mocked him behind his back.

In comparison, Jon was not only handsome, but also the son of two great noble houses; every lord in the North knew that the Lord of Winterfell loved his bastard, and there were already rumors that Lord Stark would ask the King for a letter of legitimation to legitimize Jon.

One was a filthy bastard despised by his father, while the other was a bastard loved by the Lord of the North and would be legitimized in the near future. The difference between them was so great that it made Ramsay's young heart burn with anger, resentment, jealousy and envy.

"Will you get out of my face? Your ugly face spoils my appetite." Jon's words made his expression darken even more.

Ramsay's aides, known as the Bastard's Boys, glared angrily and whispered to their lord. A cold, bloody smile appeared on Ramsay's lips.

"You are brave, Snow. Alone in the forest, surrounded by five men." Ramsay spoke, his words subtly threatening. "I would say that if you were to disappear, no one would be able to find your body."

Jon lifted his gaze to look directly into the strangely pale eyes of the Dreadfort bastard and smiled. "If you have the courage, tell me directly that you want to kill me, don't use fancy, pretty words, it doesn't suit you, Ramsay SNOW. It makes you sound like a woman trying to seduce a man."

The swords came out of their sheaths as soon as they heard Jon's words.

"I would like to skin you and wear you as a coat to keep me warm in the winter." Ramsay spoke.



Jon stood up and pulled Lady Lya from her sheath, the sword coming out with a milky sheen, and when the sun's rays hit the white metal, it practically turned the blade into pure light.

Everyone's eyes went to the sword in Jon's hand almost immediately, a shocked look appeared in Ramsay's eyes as he guessed the origin of the material the sword was made of.

After all, Dawn was practically one of the three most beautiful swords on the continent of Westeros, along with Blackfire and Dark Sister.

Ramsay would have been even more shocked if Jon had drawn Dark Sister.

"I want that sword." Ramsay said with a greedy, envious look in his eyes as Dawn's hilt was remade and the sword was given to the bastard in front of him by his mother, Ashara.

Jon's lips curved into a smile of contempt for the man before him and he spoke. "Stop talking like a gossiping woman and attack."

Jon's words made Ramsay's four aides step forward with cruel and sadistic expressions, they were monsters just like their master. Monsters that Jon would show no mercy to.

Jon moved into attack position and activated his prescience, this would not be a fight, but a one-sided battle that would undoubtedly be won by him.

Dodging the first attack, Jon twisted his body and cut off the head of one of the enemies with a single blow. The sword sliced through bone and flesh like butter.

Blood splattered everywhere, but Jon didn't stop, dodging another attack by moving slightly to the side and shoving Lady Lya through the throat of another of Ramsay's men.

As he forced the sword out of Ramsay's man's head, half of the man's head dripped out and fell to the ground with a loud thud.

Jon wiped the blade clean in one swift motion and spoke calmly with a casualness that sent shivers down the spines of everyone present.

"Two down, three to go."

Ramsay was shocked, he blinked and two of his men were killed extremely quickly. But he couldn't say anything as Jon advanced on the two remaining men of his guard.

Not long after, two more heads rolled to the ground as Jon approached Ramsay's horse with a calm, indifferent expression on his face.

"Do you think hell exists, Ramsay? It exists, but I believe that hell is often our existence on earth." Jon commented, standing three meters away from the red horse named Blood.

"Get off the horse and kneel before me." Jon spoke again, but this time he used something he rarely used. A skill called Voice, capable of controlling others against their will.

Under Ramsay's shocked eyes, he found himself dismounting from his horse and falling to his knees before Jon, his pale eyes staring into the purple eyes of the Bastard of Winterfell.



"I'm not going to kill you, but know that your life will be in my hands, I want you to live knowing that you're only alive because I want you to be and I can easily change my mind on a whim." Jon said, he didn't want to kill Ramsay at this sensitive moment in the North.

That's because everyone knows he was at the Wall at the same time Ramsay left the Dreadfort; any idiot could connect the dots and think he was the murderer. Even without evidence to implicate him, he didn't want any trouble with House Bolton right now.

At the same time, other northern lords might see the act as rebellion and it could tarnish his reputation, something Jon didn't want under any circumstances.

But he still had to do something he wanted to do with Ramsay.

Raising his sword under Ramsay's horrified eyes, Jon began to make Ramsay's face even uglier than before. When he was finished, Ramsay's face was full of deep, grotesque scars.

"A worthy face for a monster like you, Ramsay Snow." Jon commented, looking at his masterpiece with a satisfied smile.

"Every time you close your eyes, you'll see me, and I'll be a nightmare until the last days of your life. I hope you're happy with the hell I've prepared for you."

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