Aegon Reborn: The Last Targaryen

Jon sat alone by the fire, the dragon egg resting in his lap. The flames cast flickering shadows across its rough surface, the veins of red and black pulsing faintly, as if something inside was stirring. He had not slept since finding it. He could not.

Ghost lay beside him, his crimson eyes fixed on the egg. The direwolf was wary but not afraid. Jon took that as a sign.

The Free Folk had spoken of little else since his return from the cavern. Some whispered that the egg was cursed, that it had been hidden beneath the ice for a reason. Others saw it as a sign—a gift from the gods, meant for Jon Snow alone.

Tormund sat down across from him, chewing on a hunk of dried meat. "You're staring at that thing like it's going to hatch any moment."

Jon exhaled, running his fingers along the egg's rough shell. "I don't know what to do with it."

Tormund shrugged. "If it's a dragon egg, shouldn't we be throwing it into a fire? That's what your queen did, wasn't it?"

Jon tensed. His queen. Daenerys. The thought of her sent a dull ache through his chest. He had loved her, fought beside her, killed for her. And in the end, he had put a dagger in her heart.

He looked at the egg again. Daenerys had walked into flames to bring her dragons to life. But he was not Daenerys. And this was not the warm lands of Essos.

"I don't know if fire will work here," Jon admitted. "The cold... it might have changed the egg."

Tormund huffed. "Then what do you plan to do? Carry it around like some precious jewel?"

Jon met his eyes. "I'll raise it."

Silence hung between them. Then Tormund let out a booming laugh. "Of course you will! Jon Snow, the man who never asks for anything, now wants a dragon! I should've seen it coming."

Jon ignored the jest. Deep in his bones, he knew this was no accident. The egg had been buried for a reason, waiting for someone to find it. And fate—or the gods—had chosen him.

But dragons did not belong in the frozen lands of the North.

If this egg was to hatch, he would need more than just fire. He would need knowledge.

Jon stood abruptly, gripping the egg in both hands. "I need to go south."

Tormund blinked. "South? You just got sent north."

"I won't stay in Westeros." Jon looked beyond the flames, toward the dark, endless wilderness. "I'll go farther. The Free Cities. There are still people in Essos who know of dragons."

Tormund's grin faded. He studied Jon for a long moment, then sighed. "You're a stubborn fool, Snow."

Jon smirked slightly. "I've been told."

Tormund chuckled, shaking his head. "Fine. Go chase your dragon dreams. But don't expect me to row you all the way to Essos."

Jon nodded, gripping the egg tightly. He would find a way.

Because for the first time in a long while, he had a purpose.

And the blood of the dragon burned within him once more.