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English
Series:
Part 2 of The Last Hope for Westeros Saga
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Tempus et Spatium (Time and Space), Reread these Promising Works when Complete 📖, To_read_main_rom, Da_leggere
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Published:
2018-06-16
Completed:
2023-09-19
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809,761
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84/84
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The Last Hope for Westeros

Summary:

The White Walkers have won. All hope is lost. The gods decided to grant a second chance by sending Jon back in time before all hell breaks loose in season one. Jon decides to go to Pentos to find his true love, Daenerys Targaryen, and save her from her marriage to Khal Drogo, who wanted to rape her. The main plot is Jon reclaiming the Iron Throne with Daenerys and uniting the Seven Kingdoms for the impending return of the Long Night. Yet consequences made from changing time’s past cause new threats to arise.

(Longclaw1-6 added as co-writer 10/25/2019)
(CastleColin added as co-writer 10/28/2019)
(BlackLight2181 added as co-writer 6/6/2021)

Notes:

Pls, note there is still Canon plot in this fic but anyway your ideas and opinion is always a great way to help and improve this fic so don't be shy. Please note this is my first fic so don't judge. Comment down below to give your opinion and ideas in order to improve this fic thank you. Now sit back, relax and enjoy this new fic. This story was inspired by the following fanfics Held Captive, A time for Dragons and Home.

Chapter 1: Love Always Finds a Way

Notes:

Please note this is canon in some form from the tv show and books. Your opinions and ideas are always appreciated. Just note English is not my first language Afrikaans is but anyway the first 6 chapters were horribly done by me I do plan to edit them in time when I have the chance but I'm really busy ATM so maybe in the future because I'm so much busy with writing the upcoming Chapters but I promise you this story is a wild ride. From Chapter 7 it really starts to develop its chapters when my Co-Writer started editing the story so please read till chapter 7!! It's how the story is truly written. 😊 this chapter was badly edited so please forgive me but every chapter the editing keeps getting better and it starts getting its prime when my co-writer edits my work which should be from chapter 7.

7/29/2021: Hey, it's Longclaw. Just letting people know that I've finally gone in and made the long overdue edits to clean up the language. I've kept the tenor and spirit of Reuben's original as best I can though. Enjoy!

Chapter Text

Jon Snow

 

Jon was sleeping soundly in his chambers when he was suddenly jolted from his slumber by the sounds of someone urgently pounding on the door. "King Crow!" he heard his oversized ginger-haired Free Folk friend holler in his deep, hard voice. "Ya needs to wake up!"

 

Eyes snapping open, the King jolted up. “Aye, I'm awake!” he yelled angrily in response. Expression sour - it was always sour these days - he rolled out of his bed, walking to the door and pulling it open. 

 

"Jon! Come on, we need to leave NOW!" Tormund exclaimed before Jon could even open his mouth. When he noticed that Jon was not following, with a muffled curse the ginger grabbed the smaller man by his tunic and practically hauled him out into the hallway. "For fuck's sake, King Crow!" Tormund held him by the folds of his tunic and looked him in the eyes. "Jon, I know what happened is a tragedy but we have to move on... We need to leave now!” 

 

Blinking, it was then that Jon noticed the absolute panic and disorder rocking the large castle overlooking the harbor of Pentos. The few remaining fighting men of the Army of the Living under his command were all dashing about, men donning their armor and weapons while officers barked commands left and right. They are coming. No other explanation, given that there were no other threats left. He exhaled, striding back to his room in a steely silence to retrieve Longclaw before returning to Tormund...  and shoved his precious Valyrian Steel sword into the other man's chest. "I'm done fucking fighting for this fucking war, Tormund! You cannot even begin to comprehend what I have lost!!" Eyes and voice filled with fury, they suddenly took a broken tone. "I have nothing left to fight for," he muttered, barely audible.

 

Tormund could see the mixture of emotions on Jon's face - fear... anger... sorrow. Could he truly blame him? Others might within their own army, but the two men had been through so much together - Tormund was one of the last people left alive who truly cared for him besides as a King and Commander. Sighing, he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, looking him in the eyes. "Look, Snow, I know what you have lost... Your beloved wife and siblings all perished in the hands of those undead cunts." It had been many moons ago, but the mere mention of it brought obvious, fresh pain to Jon. "I can understand that you want to give up, but we need you... We need you to keep fighting for the living!"

 

Feeling tears streaking down his face Jon snapped, the bitter stoicism that formed his façade cracking. "Tormund, I lost Rhaegar... My son is DEAD and I was not even there to protect him!" Too busy fighting on the front lines, he hadn't been there for his son... for his family. "He's gone! Ghost is gone! Drogon, Viserion, Rhaegal..." He closed his eyes - the beautiful green dragon and he had only just formed their bond when he was taken from Jon. "Sansa and Arya killed without even a glimpse of happiness after the hells they went through. And Dany... the love of my life...my wife... My everything... my Dany, the Night King took her himself!" There was more, so much more, but he couldn't even speak of it. Such would shatter him.

 

A hand clasped his shoulder. "Let it out, King Crow, just let it out." Tormund was heartbroken, seeing just how Jon had lost all hope. A man who watched everything and everyone he held dear to his heart be ripped away piece by piece in front of him. 

 

Pausing briefly to wipe away the unfallen tears welling in his eyes, Jon took a steadying breath. "What purpose in life do I have left all my loved ones are gone? Face it, we've lost, Tormund. The dead are on their way to Pentos!" He pointed west, across the Narrow Sea to a continent devoid of life. "What else do we have left to fight for? Gods..." Jon buried his face in his hands. "I am tired of fighting."

 

Before the Freefolk warrior could find more words to encourage his friend, another voice broke the silence. "You cannot give up now, Aegon Targaryen." There were only a few who called him by his Targaryen name anymore. "There is still one last plan we can use... one that can use that will change all of the shit we have endured."

 

Jon looked to where to voice came from and was surprised to see Tyrion. He had not seen the dwarf since the death of his Queen. "Do you have a plan?" Jon asked as he wiped the remaining tears from his face.

 

Tyrion smiled. This surprised Jon because Tyrion hadn't smiled since Daenerys had announced she was pregnant - it was the last time the dwarf was actually happy. That any of them were "I do actually," Tyrion said as his smirk began to stretch across his face. 

 

The battered King gave a scoff in return. "Alright. What's you're amazing plan, Lord Tyrion?" he asked sarcastically.

 

The smile fell from Tyrion's face, replaced with a scowl. "I'm in no mood for your sarcasm, Jon. I know what you have lost... seven hells, we all lost them! Your wife was my Queen as well, joined in death by my brother and friends. They were also my loved ones!" 

 

Staring each other down for the briefest moment, it was Jon that shook his head - realizing his mistake. Tyrion also has been going through hells in this war, they all did. He sighed. "I'm sorry Tyrion. I'm just... I'm sorry."

 

Tyrion exhaled gave a nod and a forced slight smile. "It is fine, your Grace. By the gods if this plan works, then nothing we feel right now will matter worth a damn." He motioned for them to join him in his destination. "Follow me. We do not have a lot of time before the dead will arrive." 

 

"Just what is this plan you are so eager to put into effect?"

 

His Hand's grin only deepened to the point that Jon would've been sure he was drunk. "All will be explained after you follow me and Tormund." 

 

After hearing what Tyrion has said, Jon was more and more curious. "Fine, Tyrion. Show me the way." The dwarf was more cynical than even him, so if it brought him confidence then Jon would trust it.

 

As they quickly made their way though the halls, they could see more soldiers of the living running past them. "How long until the dead arrive here in Pentos?" Jon asked, seeing Tormund still held Longclaw in his left hand, the right hefting a large battleaxe.

 

Tormund turned his face towards Jon. "They are already inside the city, Crow... " he grunted, completely resigned to the likely eventuality. "They are killing all of our fucking men like we are nothing."

 

"Fuck." They were weak, but he didn't think this weak. Tyrion, you better be right about this plan of yours.

 

As if reading his mind, Tyrion turned his gaze around. "Don't worry, your Grace," he said reassuringly. "You just need to keep following me and the focus on the plan."

 

Anger rose in Jon as they briskly walked. "Focus on the plan? How can I focus on your plan when my people are being slaughtered!? How can I focus on your plan if I don't even know what it is!?"

 

Tyrion chuckled sarcastically. "I always forget how stubborn you are, Jon Snow." After Tyrion said these words they apparently reached their destination. A large, wooden double door guarded by two Unsullied hoplites - part of the last that remained of the once powerful legion. Once Tyrion nodded at them, they turned around and opened the doors, letting the party inside.

 

When they stepped inside the chamber the doors were quickly closed, Tormund grabbing a large beam to bolt them fully shut, apparently this being where they would make their last stand. Turning away from that unpleasant image, Jon took in his surroundings and was surprised to see Bran and Melisandre were there - in the middle of a deep discussion around what seemed to be a pool of water. For swimming? A fountain? Jon couldn't be sure. Peering at it, he noticed the water wasn't the normal fresh spring water pumped into the wealthy manses of the city but some sort of steamy green liquid. This is Melisandre's doing, for sure. 

 

When the two finally noticed his arrival, their conversation halted and they both turned to look towards Jon. "Aegon Targaryen, please come forth." It wasn't Bran speaking... Jun wasn't sure that he even existed anymore - or if he did was melded with something else. No, what called to him was the Three-Eyed Raven, though a hint of emotion in his normally monotoned voice suggested Bran was in there somewhere. "We need to start now, before time runs out. The Night king knows of this plan and is on his way to stop us." 

 

"Bran!" The King exclaimed, not having the patience for this. "How the fuck do you expect me to do anything if I don't know what the fucking plan is?!" He normally didn't like to curse, but his dragon was awoken.

 

Eyes shifting to Bran, who nodded, Tyrion cleared his throat. "We're giving us a second chance, your Grace. Specifically, you are."

 

That hadn't been expected. Jon was even more confused. "A Second chance? What are you going on about?" 

 

"Jon, this is a chance to save everyone. A chance to save all those you have loved and lost... to start over." 

 

Bran looked at Jon, blue eyes piercing his soul. "A chance to save Daenerys." 

 

At the mere mention of her name... all the grief and guilt filled his heart. "How?" He breathed out, knowing that he failed to keep her safe. "How can I save her?!" he practically yelled. "She is dead, Bran!" 

 

Raising her head, Melisandre began to speak. "Our plan is to send you back in time." She paused as Jon gaped in pure shock. "To a just before the time Robert Baratheon arrived in Winterfell. To where this all started, the slow slide to the end of the world."

 

Waiting for Jon to say something, when Tyrion realized that the slack-jawed expression on the King's face wouldn't change he walked over and placed his hand on his lower back. "Jon, don't you see, this will give you a chance to save everyone. To save Daenerys, your Stark family, our allies... everyone." 

 

Looking at him... to Bran and Melisandre, Jon's expression gave away nothing. "How?" he croaked out.

 

"When you return to the past, you have to remember only you will know what has happened in the future." Melisandre clasped her hands together. "Only you can change the future and save the living from the dead."

 

Jon's eyes finally snapped up to look at his brother. He walked to where Bran was sitting and looked in his eyes. "Bran, are you sure this will work?" Jon asked softly.

 

"Yes, Aegon, it will work." His brother tried to force a slight smile. "You can prevent all of this from ever happening. Save my father, your uncle, from his fate and our siblings from ours. You can save Daenerys, prevent many of the horrible things she endured. You and Daenerys, together, can take back the Iron Throne for House Targaryen and unite the Seven Kingdoms. You can prevent this fate from ever happening."

 

Tempting, so very tempting... toying with a resurgence of hope in his heart. Did he think it would work, no? But in his desperation Jon was willing to try. Especially when picturing what he could do for those he loved. Uncle... Robb... sisters... Dany... He would save them, make sure they lived in happiness even if he died while doing so. "Let's go," he simply said. 

 

Melisandre walked towards Jon with a knife in her hand. "Take off your shirt, my King." Jon complied and removed his shirt.  

 

After he removed his shirt he turned to look at Tyrion, surprised to see him just standing there observing. "Tyrion, why aren't you taking your shirt off? Aren't you also doing this with me?" 

 

Tyrion looked at Jon with sadness in his eyes, but before the Imp could answer Bran spoke. "Only you can journey into the past, Jon."

 

Jon was surprised and confused by Bran's words. "Why can't Tyrion come along on this crazy plan the two of you have come up with?" Jon asked as he looked between Melisandre and his brother, unsure which one of them would answer his question. "Can anyone?"

 

"Because, my King, you are the Prince who was Promised. Only you can change the future and bring the White Walkers to their true end." 

 

Hating the prophecy - hating all prophecy - still Jon didn't say anything. Only nodding. Nothing is easy in this life. If he had to do this alone he would. Kill the boy and let the man be born. Melisandre then took his hand and cut his flesh of his palm open with the sharp knife. Blood flowed freely from the wound she inflicted.

 

Melisandre took his wounded hand and gathered the flowing blood in a copper bowl. "Enter the pool, my king." Jon nodded and entered the hot green water, guided to lay down.

 

Shaking from the torrent of emotions coursing through him, Jon looked at Bran and gave him a hesitant smile. A smile that was returned. “Aegon, remember you need to find Daenerys. Only the two of you can bring victory against the white walkers… Only together can you bring the dawn." His brother had more emotion on his face than since Jon last saw him before his accident, mirroring Jon. “Do you want to know where she will be?" 

 

"Aye, do you know where I can find her when I am returned in the past?"

 

Bran quickly warged, looking into the past. Something that lasted only moments, but when he returned he looked almost staggered. At Jon's worry Bran waved him off. “No, I do not matter here... When you wake-up, you will be in Winterfell. It will be five days before the execution of the Night’s Watch deserter and the day we found the direwolf pups. Immediately after finding the pups you must leave for White Harbor and set sail for Pentos. Look for a man named Illyrio, for Daenerys and Viserys are staying as his guests under his protection.” 

 

Jon smiled at his brother. "Thank you, Bran.”

 

The green pool hazy and hot around his bare chest, Jon heard Melisandre began chanting words in High Valyrian… a language he knew only little of. If this works, Dany or Missandei can teach me and I will listen. She threw the bowl of Jon’s blood into the green hot water with him.

 

Just before he closed his eyes he heard Tyrion call, "Save them, Jon Snow. Save us all.”

 

"Give those fuckers a fight, King Crow.” Classic Tormund.

 

He closed his eyes... and opened them after he heard a strange noise… A dragon's roar... Drogon's roar, just not Drogon. A malevolence filled it. He's here...

 

And just like that... a flash of white and Jon felt a lurch - as if shoved hard by a charging bull. Eyes flying open he shot up… no longer he was in a green pool assaulted by the Army of the Dead. No, he was in a bed. Not just any bed… he was in his old bedchamber in Winterfell, the spartan décor unmistakable. Grabbing a tiny looking glass that had been gifted to him, he saw his reflection. By the gods above, he was younger. Seven and ten. 

 

Heart beating out of his chest, at that moment Jon could hear familiar voices outside his bedchamber door. With half-eagerness and half apprehension ran towards the door and flung it to find Arya and Robb in the middle of a conversation. 

 

Robb flinched a bit while Arya yelped, only for her to blush at having been startled. Oh, sister, I missed you. But laying eyes on Robb, seven hells Jon had to fight to keep from bursting into tears. "Good morning, brother!" Robb said with his beaming smile. "I see you're finally awake.”  

 

Jon couldn't speak... the words wouldn't come out, everything so surreal. Robb and Arya were breathing and smiling just in front of his eyes - both still as young and innocent as ever. He then knew Bran and Melisandre’s plan had worked. It worked... it fucking worked! They had given him a second chance to change everything……