Inside an ancient tower...
In a cold, stone hall, a newborn child lay wrapped in cloth. Beside him, a woman—pale and fading—looked at him with tearful eyes.
Outside the tower, the clash of swords and screams echoed across the valley. But soon, all fell silent. The door creaked open, and a young man in his twenties entered.
---
Ned Stark's Point of View:
When I pushed the door open, I saw no one but Lyanna. She looked up at me and whispered:
"Ned...? Is that you?"
Her voice was fragile, barely more than breath. I placed my sword, Ice, beside me—its blade still sharp, though it had taken the lives of many men.
She said, "Ned, I don't want to die."
My heart clenched at her words. I had no answer. I simply looked at her—what she once was: vibrant and full of life. And now... she was barely a shadow of that.
"Ned, is this really you? Am I dreaming?"
"No, Lyanna," I said softly. "You're not dreaming. I've missed you... I've missed all of you—Father, Brandon, Benjen..."
"I don't want to die, Ned."
"You won't, Lyanna," I lied.
Then, she turned her gaze to the infant.
She said, "His name... is Aegon Targaryen. He is our son."
"Promise me, Ned. Protect him. If Robert finds out... he'll kill him. You know he will. You must promise me."
She kept repeating those words like a curse—Promise me, Ned. Promise me...
---
Jon Snow's Point of View (as a newborn):
I woke up, staring into the face of a man with gray eyes, speaking a language that felt oddly familiar. He lifted me with ease—like a giant—and for a moment I truly believed he was one.
Then I tried to move my arms and realized I was tiny. A baby.
I shut my eyes, overwhelmed by confusion.
A woman's voice echoed near me—fragile, broken, like someone close to death. I didn't understand her words, but they repeated. One word stuck out—Ned.
I opened my eyes again and looked at the man. A serious face. Long and tired. Dark brown hair—almost black—and cold gray eyes, like a wolf's.
Soon, her voice fell silent.
I knew then... she was gone.
Of course she died. There was no maester. No midwife. Only stone and wind.
And I... drifted back into sleep.
---
Ned Stark's Point of View:
As I looked at the boy in my arms, Lyanna's voice fell silent. I turned to her... and wept.
I held her hand and made a vow.
"I'll protect him. I swear it."
Looking into the boy's innocent eyes, I whispered:
"Your name will be... Jon Snow."
And I walked away.
Six Months Later – Jon's Point of View
Most of my days were spent in silence. I slept, I cried, I did what infants are expected to do... and yet, inside, I was awake. Aware.
I understood far more than anyone realized.
Lady Catelyn... she hated me. I could feel it in her eyes—sharp, cold, like daggers. Every glance was a reminder that I wasn't welcome.
What had I done? Nothing. Except be born of a truth no one wanted to speak.
One day, a maid entered the room—one of the many tasked with feeding me. She lifted me gently, speaking with kindness I couldn't yet understand. Her voice was soothing, but behind her warmth, I sensed something deeper. Curiosity. Affection.
She fed me and laid me back down, humming a tune.
And then... it happened.
A shimmer.
A transparent interface appeared before my eyes, floating in the air like magic.
---
[System Boot Complete]
> Name: Aegon Targaryen
(Public Name: Jon Snow)
Rank: Infant / Officially Deceased
Host: Human
> Welcome, Conscious Host.
Due to your awakened mind in an underdeveloped body, the Emergency Survival Protocol has been activated.
Available features will be unlocked based on your biological growth.
---
Active Systems:
1. Early Cognition Mode
Behavior Analysis
Facial Recognition (Active)
Language Processing (In Progress)
2. Accelerated Mental Development
Long-term Memory (Active at 9%)
Auto-learning Protocol (Enabled)
3. Parasite Defense System (Disabled – Requires mature musculature)
4. Tactical Dormancy Mode
Remain undetected. Act like a normal child.
---
Core Directives:
Survive
Analyze "Ned Stark" (In Progress)
Monitor Unconscious Threat: "Catelyn Stark"*
> Random System Note: You have a strong sense of ambition and a desire to leave your mark on this world.
---
Mental Commands Available:
[Analyze] – Scan behavior, environment, or faces
[Memory] – Review stored experiences
[Pause] – Temporarily shut down the system
---
Do you wish to activate Exploratory Mode?
> Unlocks deeper perception of surroundings through the lens of an awakened infant with advanced nanotech support.
[YES] – [NO]
I didn't move. I didn't need to. I simply thought the answer:
[YES]
Nothing changed at first.
Hours passed.
And then... he walked in.
Ned Stark.
Same expression. Same wolf-like eyes. So serious.
---
[Relationship Analysis Protocol Activated]
> Subject: Eddard "Ned" Stark
Status: Tense. Exhausted. Carries immense guilt.
Emotional Index:
– Guilt: 87%
– Fear: 42%
– Affection: 71%
Most Likely Future Behavior: Will assume role of adoptive father. Will hide the truth.
Expected... but better than nothing.
Then she entered.
Catelyn Stark.
---
[Analyzing... Based on Previous Interactions]
> Subject: Catelyn Stark
Emotional Profile:
– Disgust: 83%
– Suspicion: 64%
– Rejection: 55%
Threat Level: Moderate
No surprise there.
Every glance from her screamed, "Why are you breathing, bastard?"
Lesson number one in this world?
Survival demands more than milk and lullabies. It requires strategy.
Jon's Inner Monologue – System Active
I laughed internally—well, as much as a baby can. Externally, all I could manage was a hiccup and a dumb smile.
The maid smiled back. "Oh! He's laughing!"
She leaned closer, delighted by my infant charm. I thought to myself:
Not yet, dear... but one day, you'll call me "Lord Aegon."
Still, something about the name didn't sit right with me.
Aegon? Why not Maegor? Or even... Maekar?
I always admired Maekar. Strong. Decisive. Not mad like half the Targaryens, or soft like the rest.
Then a thought hit me—wait, did I just fully understand what she said?
[System Notification]
> Host's language processing is rapidly evolving.
Based on memory data from the past six months, full comprehension of Low Valyrian and Westerosi Common Tongue is underway.
I was stunned.
These nanites are amazing.
I focused on another curiosity:
"What is this 'Inventory' system mentioned earlier?"
---
[Active Ability: Inventory]
> Type: Pocket Dimension
Capacity: Unlimited
Access: Exclusive to the host
You may store any object you physically touch and mentally command to store.
Time within the inventory is frozen—no rot, no decay.
There are no keys, no doors—it is merely an extension of your will.
---
Available Commands:
[Store] – Transfer object into inventory
[Retrieve] – Summon stored item
[Organize] – Create folders, shelves, or entire rooms
[Analyze] – Examine the properties of a stored object
---
Incredible...
A secret, silent vault inside my mind.
I looked toward Lord Stark—his stoic face unmoved—as the maid gently rocked me in her arms.
---
Ned Stark's Perspective:
I watched Jon… no, Aegon, in her arms. His presence brought me sorrow and comfort. He reminded me of Lyanna—and yet, here he was. Alive. Safe.
I would raise him.
He could become a maester, perhaps. Or join the Night's Watch. I'd see to it that he had a place.
This secret... it would die with me.
Then I looked at Catelyn.
I knew she resented the child. I prayed to the Old Gods she would at least tolerate him. If not love him, then at least do him no harm.
---
Catelyn Stark's Perspective:
The child laughed. And my heart twisted with bitterness.
Ned had brought him here... and yet would not even tell me who the mother was.
Was she still alive? Was she someone he loved? A servant? A lady?
Why wouldn't he trust me?
Every time I saw that child, I saw a threat to my son's birthright. A living symbol of betrayal.
I turned and left the room, cold anger burning beneath my calm.
---
Jon's Perspective:
She left again.
Stormed out, actually. Anger, disgust, or both—I wasn't sure anymore.
Ned stared at me for a long moment… then followed her.
They'd done this more than once.
As silence returned to the room, the maid smiled, then offered me her breast once more.
And so began another session of feeding, soft humming, and drowsy thoughts.
That night, I spoke to the system.
I asked about magic, about powers... about everything.
Some answers were vague. Others were unsettling.
Eventually, I slept. And in my dreams, I flew.
A crow? A hawk? A shadow? I wasn't sure.
But from that night on, the dreams returned—every night.
Sometimes I was a cat.
Sometimes a wolf.
Once, I was a donkey in a northern village that smelled suspiciously like Winterfell.
---
Age: Two and a Half
I had begun walking.
Each day, I explored more of the castle.
And each day, I visited the godswood—a sacred, quiet place. The white weirwood tree stood tall, bleeding red sap from its carved face. A black pond shimmered beside it, like liquid shadow.
One day, I brought a raven chick I had stolen from the rookery.
I wanted to test myself.
Was I warging already?
I sat, cross-legged, eyes closed, heart steady... and waited.
Hours passed.
Nothing happened.
I returned to my room—a tiny chamber above the Stark crypts.
I had tried to explore the crypts themselves, but the guards refused to let me in.
How could a house eight thousand years old not have secret tunnels?
Didn't Bran the Builder leave behind anything?
Clues? Hidden eggs? Dragon bones?
No.
All I found was a spider. A big one.
And apparently, it found my scalp the perfect spot for its web.
I tried to brush it off gently.
It bit me anyway.
---
The Next Day:
I embarked on a new mission—exploring the hidden paths of Winterfell.
I asked the system:
"Can you scan walls? Detect magic? Hidden doors?"
System Response:
> Error. Requires advanced magical sensors.
Current capabilities limited to crawling, drooling, and having your nose blocked by the maid when you refuse milk.
I laughed.
I actually laughed.
The system had sass.
And yes… the maid still fed me, even though I had teeth.
When Ned asked, she simply said, "He cries if I don't."
---
Age: Three
And then, something changed.
The dreams didn't just return…
They evolved.
I began to control the creatures I dreamed of.
Not fully, but enough to know I wasn't imagining it.
The feeling of shifting back to my body was strange—like returning from a form that didn't belong to me.
---
I asked the system:
"Is something happening to my brain? My memory?"
System Analysis:
> Unidentified neural activity detected.
Probability of accessing ancestral memory: 0%
Probability of developing mental illness: Low
"Very comforting. Thanks, system."
---
In the castle yard one day, I sat in the shadows, watching the guards' children throw mud at one another.
I stared at my tiny hands, wondering when they'd be strong enough to hold a sword.
I asked the system:
"Can I enhance my body using nanotech?"
> [Affirmative, Host.]
Before I could dig deeper...
A boy crawled toward me.
Robb.
Catelyn's son.
He sat beside me and asked:
"You… don't talk?"
I looked at him, expressionless.
"No one wants to play with me," I replied coldly.
For a moment, I thought he might feel sympathy.
Then—he spat on me.
The others laughed.
I turned away and walked to my chamber in silence.
---
[System Update: Social Humiliation Detected]
Wonderful.
I smirked internally.
"This moment," I told myself, "will go into my memoir…"
Title: How to Survive the Fish-Wife and Her Spawn.