How Jon Snow's parentage will be revealed to the masses

Potential Spoilers Below

For anyone who has read my blog they know that I believe that The Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire (ASOIAF) is paralleling The Wheel of Time (TWOT) series.  With that said there is a lot of speculation as to how the word will get out to prove Jon Snow is actually the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark.  The answer is simple glass candles and dreams/visions. 

Jon Snow

Lyanna Stark

In TWOT the third book – The Dragon Reborn Rand al’Thor was identified as the Dragon Reborn to people who didn’t even know him via dreams brought about by his Ta’veren nature causing people to have dreams about him on multiple nights.  The people would dream about him taking the sword that could not be touched – Callandor.  Callandor retrieved from the Heart of the Stone was a sign that people knew would signal that the Dragon had come again.

Rand al'Thor with Callandor

Stone of Tear

Below are examples of these dreams:

“What I do, I do because there is no other way. He is hunting me again, and this time one of us has to die, I think. There is no need for those around me to die, also. Too many have died for me already. I do not want to die either, and will not, if I can manage it. There are lies in dreams, and death, but dreams hold truth, too.

That was all, with no signature. There was no need for Perrin to wonder who Rand meant by “he.” For Rand, for all of them, there could be only one. Ba'alzamon.”

Ba'alzamon

“Moiraine stepped closer, and peered up into his face. “Dreams?” Lan and Uno came in, but she waved them to silence. The small room was more than crowded now, with five people in it besides the Ogier. “What dreams have you had the last few days, Perrin?” She ignored his protest that there was nothing wrong with his dreams. “Tell me,” she insisted. “What dream have you had that was not ordinary? Tell me.” Her gaze seized him like smithy tongs, willing him to speak.

Moiraine & Lan

He looked at the others — they were all watching him fixedly, even Min — then hesitantly told of the one dream that seemed unusual to him, the dream that came every night. The dream of the sword he could not touch. He did not mention the wolf that had appeared in the last.

“Callandor,” Lan breathed when he was done. Rockhard face or no, he looked stunned.

“Yes,” Moiraine said, “but we must be absolutely certain. Speak to the others.” As Lan hurried out, she turned to Uno. “And what of your dreams? Did you dream of a sword, too?”

The Shienaran shifted his feet. The red eye painted on his patch stared straight at Moiraine, but his real eye blinked and wavered. “I dream about flam — uh, about swords all the time, Moiraine Sedai,” he said stiffly. “I suppose I've dreamed about a sword the last few nights. I don't remember my dreams the way Lord Perrin here does.”

“Lan returned, and Moiraine straightened eagerly. The Warder answered the question in her eyes. “Half of them remember dreaming of swords the last four nights running. Some remember a place with great columns, and five say the sword was crystal, or glass. Masema says he saw Rand holding it last night.”

Masema

“That one would,” Moiraine said. She rubbed her hands together briskly; she seemed suddenly full of energy. “Now I am certain. Though I still wish I knew how he left here unseen. If he has rediscovered some Talent from the Age of Legends...”

“There had been a dream of Rand, reaching for a sword that seemed to be made of crystal, never seeing the fine net dropping over him. And one of him kneeling in a chamber where a parched wind blew dust across the. floor, and creatures like the one on the Dragon banner, but much smaller, floated on that wind, and settled into his skin. There had been a dream of him walking down into a great hole in a black mountain, a hole filled with a reddish glare as from vast fires below, and even a dream of him confronting Seanchan.”

Dragon Banner

“Rand.” Egwene stopped to swallow; even a drop of water would be welcome. “I dreamed about Rand, and Callandor. I think he is coming here.”

“Egwene's eyes snapped open. She stood in a great hall, its vast domed ceiling supported by a forest of massive redstone columns. And hanging in midair was a sword of crystal, gleaming and sparkling as it slowly revolved. She was not certain, but she thought it might be the sword Rand had been reaching for in that dream. That other dream. This all felt so real, she had to keep reminding herself it was a dream, too.”

“You must go. You must. Before the Defenders come. I will show them the dice. I will tell them it was an outlander, but a tall man. With red colored hair, and gray eyes. No one will suffer. A man I dreamed of last night. No one real. No one will contradict me. He took coin from everyone with his dice. But you must go. You must!” Everyone else in the room was studiously looking another way.”

The Heart of the Stone:

“These things were not needed to tell me,” Moiraine said. “Perrin, did you dream of Rand last night?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “He was in the Heart of the Stone, holding that sword” — he felt Zarine shift beside him — “but I have been worrying about that so much it is no wonder I dream of it. I had nothing but nightmares last night.”

“A tall man?” Zarine said. “With reddish hair and gray eyes? Holding something that shines so brightly it hurts your eyes? In a place that is all great redstone columns? Blacksmith, tell me that was not your dream.”

“You see,” Moiraine said. “I have heard this dream spoken of a hundred times today. They all speak of nightmares — Be'lal apparently does not care to shield his dreams — but that one above all else.” She laughed suddenly, like low, cool chimes. “People say he is the Dragon Reborn. They say he is coming. They whisper it fearfully in corners, but they say it.”

“The alarm gongs sent echoes crashing through the Stone, but Rand paid no more attention to them than he had to the roar that had come before, like muffled thunder from somewhere below. His side ached; the old wound burned, strained almost to tearing by the climb up the side of the fortress. He gave the pain no heed, either. A crooked smile was fixed on his face, a smile of anticipation and dread he could not have wiped away if he had wanted to. It was close, now. What he had dreamed of.  Callandor.

I will finish it at last. One way or another, it will be done with. The dreams, finished. The baiting, and the taunting, and the hunting. I'll finish it all!

Laughing to himself, he hurried through the dark corridors of the Stone of Tear.”

The Heart of Winterfell:

“The Heart of the Stone” is IMO synonymous with “The Heart of Winterfell”.  The weirwood was the heart of Winterfell, Lord Eddard always said . . .  If you have read my theory on who is the heart of Winterfell you will know the answer resides in the Crypts of Winterfell.  So in keeping with my theme Lightbringer will be found in the Crypts.  Jon’s dream is similar to how Rand finally takes Callandor:

Ned and Catelyn under Winterfell Weirwood tree
Notice the face it will be important to the story in the end

Dawn the sword I believe to be Lightbringer

“Do you ever find anyone in your dream?” Sam asked.

Sam

Jon shook his head. “No one. The castle is always empty.” He had never told anyone of the dream, and he did not understand why he was telling Sam now, yet somehow it felt good to talk of it. “Even the ravens are gone from the rookery, and the stables are full of bones. That always scares me. I start to run then, throwing open doors, climbing the tower three steps at a time, screaming for someone, for anyone. And then I find myself in front of the door to the crypts. It’s black inside, and I can see the steps spiraling down. Somehow I know I have to go down there, but I don’t want to. I’m afraid of what might be waiting for me. The old Kings of Winter are down there, sitting on their thrones with stone wolves at their feet and iron swords across their laps, but it’s not them I’m afraid of. I scream that I’m not a Stark, that this isn’t my place, but it’s no good, I have to go anyway, so I start down, feeling the walls as I descend, with no torch to light the way. It gets darker and darker, until I want to scream.” He stopped, frowning, embarrassed. “That’s when I always wake.” His skin cold and clammy, shivering in the darkness of his cell. Ghost would leap up beside him, his warmth as comforting as daybreak. He would go back to sleep with his face pressed into the direwolf’s shaggy white fur. “Do you dream of Horn Hill?” Jon asked.

Artist rendition of Ghost & Jon

Horn Hill

So Jon Snow finishes his dream like Rand did for real.  He goes into the Crypts and finds the sword.  Bran will have another vision showing that Rhaegar and Lyanna were married making Jon the true heir to the Iron Throne.  So how does the world find out?  They do the same way people in TWOT did via dreams/visions.  I have been talking about glass candles for so long now and everyone has said that there is no way the TV show would go into it at this time as there isn’t enough time.  Well Season 7 Episode 1 did just that.  If you pay attention to the book that Sam is reading you can see words on the page that speak of the glass candles. 

Bran

Iron throne

Click here to see a picture of the page in question.

I translated the page as follows:

an acolyte studies the so-called

mysteries of the arcane and magical

final test is to stand a solitary vig (vigal)

locked vault with three dragonglass

**. By this time he has learned of the

(man) legends - that seated before the

magically - lit candles their sorceries (con)

across mountains, seas, and deserts;

ter (enter) a man's dreams and give him

speak to one another half a

acolyte has no torch and

******less he can un**

* in darkness

The translation only makes sense if you have read the books and the following will help clear it up:

“What are these glass candles?” asked Roone.

Armen the Acolyte cleared his throat. “The night before an acolyte says his vows, he must stand a vigil in the vault. No lantern is permitted him, no torch, no lamp, no taper . . . only a candle of obsidian. He must spend the night in darkness, unless he can light that candle. Some will try. The foolish and the stubborn, those who have made a study of these so-called higher mysteries. Often they cut their fingers, for the ridges on the candles are said to be as sharp as razors. Then, with bloody hands, they must wait upon the dawn, brooding on their failure. Wiser men simply go to sleep, or spend their night in prayer, but every year there are always a few who must try.”

“The candle was unpleasantly bright. There was something queer about it. The flame did not flicker, even when Archmaester Marwyn closed the door so hard that papers blew off a nearby table. The light did something strange to colors too. Whites were bright as fresh-fallen snow, yellow shone like gold, reds turned to flame, but the shadows were so black they looked like holes in the world. Sam found himself staring. The candle itself was three feet tall and slender as a sword, ridged and twisted, glittering black. “Is that . . . ?”

“. . . obsidian,” said the other man in the room, a pale, fleshy, pasty-faced young fellow with round shoulders, soft hands, close-set eyes, and food stains on his robes.

“Call it dragonglass.” Archmaester Marwyn glanced at the candle for a moment. “It burns but is not consumed.”

Dragonglass

“What feeds the flame?” asked Sam.

“What feeds a dragon’s fire?” Marwyn seated himself upon a stool. “All Valyrian sorcery was rooted in blood or fire. The sorcerers of the Freehold could see across mountains, seas, and deserts with one of these glass candles. They could enter a man’s dreams and give him visions, and speak to one another half a world apart, seated before their candles. Do you think that might be useful, Slayer?”

“We would have no more need of ravens.”

A Glass Candle in action:

A woman stood under the persimmon tree, clad in a hooded robe that brushed the grass. Beneath the hood, her face seemed hard and shiny. She is wearing a mask, Dany knew, a wooden mask finished in dark red lacquer. “Quaithe? Am I dreaming?” She pinched her ear and winced at the pain. “I dreamt of you on Balerion, when first we came to Astapor.”

Dany

Quaithe

“You did not dream. Then or now.”

“What are you doing here? How did you get past my guards?”

“I came another way. Your guards never saw me.”

“If I call out, they will kill you.”

“They will swear to you that I am not here.”

“Are you here?”

“No. Hear me, Daenerys Targaryen. The glass candles are burning.  Soon comes the pale mare, and after her the others. Kraken and dark flame, lion and griffin, the sun’s son and the mummer’s dragon. Trust none of them. Remember the Undying. Beware the perfumed seneschal.”

So, as you can see glass candles can be focused to give one person a vision as in Dany’s case.  Why couldn’t this also be done on a massive scale?  I think that this is how Jon’s true parentage will be revealed so that everyone will know.  What do you think?

Comments encouraged.  Love to hear the ideas of others.  Most believe that since I present my idea’s as “fact like” I’m not open to change my viewpoints which is far from the truth.  I simply look at the information presented and go from there.  If you can shine a light on another way of thinking that opens the door to debate.