Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They say that dreams didn’t make Targaryen kings, they say dragons did.
The story of this house might be covered in ashes and smoke, built on fire and blood but it is written by dreams.
For it was a dream that saved them from the doom of Old Valyria.
And a dream made them conquer the West.

The story of Daenys, forever known as the Dreamer, was Aegon’s favorite as a child.
One of his dearest memories, probably his very first, listening to his mother reading that story during the hour of the ghost, when they were supposed to be asleep already, when they pretended they were so their father wouldn’t be in rage but their mother knew well enough that there was six pairs of violet eyes well open and waiting for her on their room.
How Aenar Targaryen took all of his possessions, believing his daughter without a single glimpse of a doubt and moved to that fortress they now called home, Dragonstone.
Even on his deathbed, the great Targaryen king would miss those nights, with his baby sister Rhaenys sleeping on his side, the eldest Visenya listening to his mother bored to death. Years later he found out she only sat down and didn’t say a word because she knew it was Aegon’s favorite moment of the day.

The three siblings were born and raised in Dragonstone.
Together.
As one.
Targaryen had settled on that island since the tragedy making it their home and fortress, they traded and negotiated with some of the kingdoms in the West, but the dragon lords preferred the company of their own kind.
“It’s a strange place, they are too different to us, they have their own gods and their own traditions. For a tree to grow strong it must have fertile soil, clean water and hot but not scorching sun. This island is your soil ñuha byka mēre (my little one), we are your water and dragons are your sun. Never forget that” That was what Aegon’s mother repeated again and again whenever he asked about that strange land, it kept him awake at night, wondering what was there and why it seemed out of his reach.
“One day, as lord of Dragonstone, you will handle the finances and commerce with other kingdoms but you must always remember where your home is and who you are, ñuha zaldrītsos (my little dragon)”.
His father visited those lands often, sometimes bringing them back gifts.
Some of them his mother wasn’t particularly fond of.

Their father Aerion was a stern man, always frowning, always craving for something he couldn’t exactly explain. He was an accidental heir after all, his father succeeded his two brothers who died prematurely.
Aelyx was a fine knight, a good dragonrider. Baelon was also courageous and had a passion to learn about dragons, the maester of Dragonstone of his time could testify this, for maester Landar said that he ran out of books to give to the young lord by the time he was ten and seven.
Aerion’s father, Daemion, was a cheerful child, he had a beautiful singing voice and was remembered as a good man. But that was it.
Aerion felt that no songs were written about poets. No one was gonna remember his father for the man he was and he wished to be something more.
But perhaps Aerion, simply, inherited a destiny that wasn’t his and he blamed the gods for it.

Targaryen are closer to men than gods but for him, the gods were silent.

Perhaps it was because he was never a dragonrider himself, in fact, he grew resentful of the beasts, always complaining when his children roamed the skies, it felt like a mockery, his own children enjoying everything he did not have and more.
Absolutely a disgrace.
He would have tried to kick the beasts out, to burn the island with them on it, Maester Kerran suggested it, several times but thank goodness Aerion had a good wife who had more common sense than the majority of men surrounding her.

Valaena was the true heart and soul of Dragonstone.
She was a beautiful woman in her own way, taller than her husband, she didn’t share his soft Targaryen features, even though she had Targaryen blood, she couldn’t deny her Velaryon heritage.
The house of the dragon liked to pride themselves to be the last of Old Valyria but in reality house Velaryon, masters of the sea, also came from the ancient volcanoes although they only had their ships.
The Targaryen ruled the skies and fire while they were made of salt and water.
Valaena Velaryon was a good mix of the two houses, with the silver hair characteristic of the Valyrians but blue Velaryon eyes as deep as the Narrow Sea. She had the strong Targaryen temper heired from his mother but the wiseness of his Velaryon father.
Aerion’s mother and Valaena’s mother were sisters, being descendants of Daenys the Dreamer’s uncle.
Aerion and Valaena were cousins, they played together since they were children
This was the law among Valyrians. The blood of the Dragon must be kept pure.
“Other families have an easier task than us, for they only think of their sole survival but we have on our shoulders a heavy weight to carry for we have the last of the blood of Old Valyria and we must keep it pure” that’s what their mother had told Aegon the first time he had asked about marriage.
That moment he understood, he was going to marry his sister.
But it was never a question of which. He would have been happy with both.

But at ten and seven, his parents had chosen in his name.
And that’s where our story shall begin for that’s when the dream took place.
That’s when the conquest truly started.

Chapter Text

Aegon hadn't had a proper sleep in days, every night tossing and turning, he dreamt of dragons, of a night that never ended and ice.
He dreamt of ice.
Something cold as the stranger and crueler than it. That’s how he explained it to Orys that morning.
Orys Waters was his servant and confidant. He was seven years his senior, he looked up to him growing up, always wanted to be better than him, not out of malice or jealousy but a pure brotherly rivalry.
"Maybe her ladyship knows how to interpret it. She always has her nose stuck in a book and they are always about this type of mystifying themes". He knew he meant his sister Visenya.
His sister and betrothed. The woman she was going to marry in less than four hours.
"You’re not fair to my lady sister, she is not always reading, she spends a great deal of time beating your ass at the training field".
"My lord, she is beating both of our asses".
That made Aegon laugh. Orys knew what to always say to make him feel better, even if it was a small jester like that.
"I am marrying not only the wisest of women but also one of the bravest".
"¿One of them, my lord? ¿Do you know any other woman with more courage than her?".
"Not more but I would say my sister Rhaenys is at the same level", he couldn’t help but smile when thinking of his baby sister. He was a mere two years younger and yet in his eyes he will always be his little one.
"Ah yes but it’s just due to her lack of good judgment. Lady Visenya is too wise as you’ve said to do half of the foolishness Lady Rhaenys does. She does it every single day I might add".
"Orys, you know I agree but do not let my mother catch you saying those words, even if she also agrees herself".
They both laughed. Alone it was the time when they could be themselves. Aegon didn’t trust people easily, not that he knew many, he hadn’t left Dragonstone since he was born but he felt uneasy next to others.
He had to play a role, he had to be the lord of Dragonstone, the heir of the Old Valyria. He couldn’t fail, he couldn’t be weak in the eyes of others.
Only his sisters and Orys allowed him to do so because he knew they wouldn’t ask for anything in return and they wouldn’t try to take anything from him.

He would willingly give them the world if he could.

Aegon took a moment to look at himself in the mirror. He was half dressed, in a traditional attire from his people, his true people, Valyrians not Andals nor first men.
Orys tied the red robe around his waist, it was the first layer.
"I look like my lord father" he muttered a bit surprised.
He had never seen the similarities between the two, even though his mother kept insisting they were exactly the same.
"You haven’t dressed up properly in a while, that’s why you see the similarities now. His lordship likes to dress according to his statue".
"A nice way of saying he likes to show off".
Orys was putting on the next layer of clothing when he had to stop and take a big hysterical laugh. There were few things that made them both happier than making fun of Lord Aerion.
"If father hears you, brother, you will be spanked like when we were children".

Rhaenys had entered the room.
His beautiful and wild Rhaenys.
She had truly bloomed that summer, just turned ten and five. She had known no winter and it showed, she only knew of happiness, always daydreaming and whistling a song.
"My lady" Orys bowed respectfully and stepped aside, letting the siblings some room. Aegon thanked it immensely.
"Good morning sir Orys. A wonderful day, quite perfect for a wedding, I would say" Rhaenys had a mischievous smile as she spoke, she had been enjoying reminding everyone of the upcoming event, almost as much as if it was her own wedding.
"Yes, my lady, I would say it is the perfect day for the event" Orys enjoyed her playfulness, always teasing each other.
"Lo muña ūndegon aōha grēza, kesā sagon qilōna hae sȳrī".
(If mother sees you with that dress, you will be the one who is punished).

Rhaenys looked ravishing, with a dress that seemed like sea foam around her, covered in crystal, when the lights hit her she seemed to have a halo of rainbows coming from her. She was dripping in elegance but her brother couldn’t help to feel a sting of pain, for he would love to give her diamonds and pearls, rubies and emeralds, anything better than simple trinkets but they were not exactly the richest of houses which made no sense neither to him nor his sisters, specially for Visenya.
Rhaenys's fashion was not exactly their mother’s taste.

"Lēkia nyke iā tembyr recently, ziry urnēptre jurnegon hen ābrar isse se tolmiot tegun hen Qarth, pōnta grēze hae bisa, ñuha jorrāelagon lēkia. Yn ēdis pōja naejossa hen. ao imagine skoros muña would ivestragon lo ziry ūndan nyke?". (Brother I found a book recently. It had pictures of a far land by the name of Qarth. They wear clothes like this, my dear brother.But they had one of their breasts uncovered. Could you imagine what mother would say if she saw me dressed like that?).
Aegon laughed, he found her curiosity endearing and admirable in equal parts.
She was enamored with adventure and everything new she could get her hands to would be like pure gold to her. She loved the stories that came from the east and also the ones from the south and the west and probably the ones from north too.
Everything outside that island was interesting to her.
"She would drop dead at that very moment, ñuha jorrāelagon" (my dear).
"Nissa se mērī drīve bona stops nyke hen gaomagonziry". (That’s the only reason that stops me from doing it).
Rhaenys hugged him from behind, locking her arms around his waist. Aegon always found peace in his sister’s embrace.
Her hair smelled of sweet flowers and was carefully braided with pearls forming what seemed like a tiara.
"Who did your hair today? I like it".
"Visenya gōntan. Ziry gōntan ñuha ōghar se nyke gōntan zȳhon". (Visenya did. She did my hair and I did hers).
They were raised speaking and learning every day in high Valyrian, the language of their ancestors felt like home. Although, Aegon always felt rude speaking it in front of other people, for they couldn’t understand them. His sisters simply did not care,

“They simply should learn then. We must adapt to their so called common language but they cannot learn ours?” Visenya always said.

"How does my bride look?".
"Gevie, gaomagon ao daor pendagon ziry?". (Beautiful, do you doubt it?).
"Gaoman daor daren. (I would not dare)" Aegon looked at Orys. He was waiting to finish dressing him. "Sir Orys, please wait outside, my sister will finish helping me dress, thank you".
"Yes, my lord" he bowed respectfully and left the room.

Rhaenys was blushing for some reason as she took the rest of his wedding attire. A white robe with red in the bottom and in the sleeves.
"Ziry jurnegon hae ānogar (It looks like blood)" she whispered, touching the fabric with a curious look on her face.
"Issa. Dīnilūks iksis iā kivio hen ānogar". (It is. Marriage is a promise of blood).
He took her hands between his. The siblings looked at each other with a sort of hunger. It had been happening often since that summer. Rhaenys had become a woman and woman needs she had.
Aegon was tall for his age, not as tall as Visenya yet, but taller than most of the boys his age, he was handsome or so his fiancee told him and he hoped his younger sister would agree with his curly white hair and his violet eyes, darker than Rhaney’s but clearer than Visenya’s.
He caressed her hands with kindness. They had been going on with that game for weeks now, hidden touches when no one was watching, whispers and promises of something forming between the two.
They could not say what it was. Visenya was getting tired of them both.

“If you crave for each other, why do you deny yourself of each other. I shall never understand your reservations to join our sister” She had told him one night.

"Ao jurnegon gevie tolī, ñuha jorrāelagon hāedar". (You look beautiful too, my dear little sister) Rhaenys tied the dress tightly around his brother’s waist, caressing his sides, she sent shivers straight to Aegon’s spine.
"Gaomagon eman naejot sagon dīnagon, lēkia". (Must I marry, brother). The young girl asked in a whisper.
It broke Aegon’s heart just to think about it. To see her leave their home, to leave them, it felt like a burden too great to carry.
"Kesā dīnagon iā sȳz vala, mēre hen aōha iderēbagon. Kesan mazverdagon sure hen bona".(You will marry a good man, one of your choosing. I will make sure of that).
There was a silence between them. Maybe it was for the best, to stop speaking of matters that they still did not know how to handle.
"Is our sister nervous?" he took the head piece he was supposed to wear and put it on, feeling strange with the weight.
"Kessa, yn kessa daor ivestragon ziry". (Yes, but she will not admit it). She secured his head piece with a thousand different types of hairpins that Aegon didn’t even know existed.
He could swear he tried to complain at some point but she slapped his arm and that was the end of the conversation.

Orys re-entered the room, taking them both by surprise.
"Excuse me my lord, your lord father is approaching".
Rhaenys knew that was her cue to leave. If their father found her there he would throw a fit, especially if she saw her in her dress.
"Sȳz biarves, lēkia. Emagon kirimves". (Good luck brother, have fun). She kissed his lips and left in a rush.
Aegon couldn’t help but smile. Rhaenys was truly the joy of their life.
"Thank you Sir Orys, for the warning".
"It’s my job to take care of you" he peaked out of the door and with a more solemn voice he announced "lord Aerion has arrived".

His father entered with maester Kerran, that man followed him more than his own shadow, that was something that always had gotten into Aegon’s nerves.
"Kepus". (Father).
"Look at you. A man. Never thought this moment would arrive" another thing that made Aegon’s skin crawl was his father’s refusal to use their ancestral language. It felt shameful, almost like a sin.
"Thank you father". Aerion and especially the maester made him feel unsafe. For Aegon the best way to not show it was to take a step back, taking cover inside himself, becoming someone else, someone completely different to the person his sisters knew.
"It is a delightful day, I wanted to tell you this morning but you were not in your chambers. Care to explain why?" Aerion sounded impatient and mostly annoyed.
Aegon had to use all of his will power to not roll his eyes at his lord father.
"We are running a bit late. Let us talk while we are on our way to the beach" the young man knew there was no way he could get away from the conversation but nevertheless he could try.

They left Aegon’s room, the three of them. It seemed to the young dragon lord that he would never have a word alone with his father.
"I have not slept well during this week, riding Balerion always makes me feel at peace, I thought it would help me and it did".
"That bloody beast. I have never understood why you chose it. It is dangerous for yourself and others, even its fellow dragons. It is too big, too aggressive…"
"Kepus, it is true he is a mighty beast but Balerion and I are one and the same, he would never harm someone I care for. He does have his temper of course, as he is a dragon not a pet but we work well in unison for I did not choose him, he chose me".

Aegon had claimed Balerion when he was merely ten and one, Rhaenys had convinced him to explore the northern mountains, an old volcano where the dragons slept and formed their nests, the island filled with smoke coming from that mysterious place but only the servants who cared for the dragons, low valyrians from Lys, dared to come close to it.
Around midday he lost sight of his sister and could not find his way back to the fortress, feeling the scorching sun on top of him and the lack of water on his lips, he thought he was dying but there he was.
Balerion.
In all of his black threatening glory.
The beast was older than the island, he was one of the first dragons to arrive with the Targaryen and he was Aegon’s.
Balerion took him between his claws, the little boy never feared, knowing he was going to be safe and he was taken home, left with care on the sand in front of the fortress's steps. The dragon roared and screamed until someone went to help the child.
They had been inseparable since then.

"My lord, if I may give my opinion on the matter".
"As much as I would like to hear it, Maester Kerran, we are in fact late. I know my lord father has invited a lot of his peers from both the west and the east, it would be rude and against protocol to leave them waiting. Let’s focus on today’s celebration".
Aegon would have preferred to just give him to Balerion to feast on but alas he needed to be diplomatic.
"Not many have come anyway" his father expected to impress others and make new business relationships with this special event.

Dragonstone didn’t produce much to begin with, being a volcanic island it was difficult to sell anything but his father had a mind for commerce and an ambition to maintain the wealthiness that their family had back in the times of Old Valyria.
He saw an opportunity in the fractured west, countries dried by constant wars, he brought valuable and essential goods from the east and sold them. He knew he could ask for whatever price he wished, for the seven kingdoms had no other chance but to negotiate.
Visenya was particularly uncomfortable with this situation and Rhaenys, though not very informed about it, concurred with her sister.
Aegon felt a heavy burden, he agreed with them but he also had to maintain his position as heir to the dragonstone title. It was like a sword on the front and back of his neck, it didn’t matter where he moved he was doomed to feel the sharpness of the blade.

"It is not for lack of interest, my lord, they were unable to, king Harren Hoare has declared war to…"
"Everyone, maester Kerran, his majesty has a tendency to fight everything and everyone that surrounds him".
Aegon wanted to contain himself, he truly tried but he had gotten tired of the endless bickering in the seven kingdoms.
"And I am sure that he fights those far away too but that is not our problem. Remember we are not diplomats, we are merchants".

We are neither. He could hear his sister screaming.
We are dragons.

"I could go with you next time you visit, kepus. I am ready, I have been studying hard and as you said I am a man and your heir".
His father looked at him with a mix of pride and fear, the one of a father watching his son grow.
"We will talk about it later, as you said we are running late to the ceremony".
Aegon was disappointed but not at all surprised at his father's reaction but he was not mad because the thought of finally seeing his bride made it impossible to be in a bad mood.

The ceremony went as expected, they shared their blood, they promised each other unconditional love and for some reason Aegon felt he had already done that a thousand times before. Although It felt like it went by too fast, too quickly. He had been waiting for months, his entire life and now he could call Visenya his wife.

The banquet, on the other hand, felt incredibly long and draining, probably because of the anticipation he was feeling of finally being alone with his new bride.
"Issi ao okay, ñuha tresy?" (Are you okay, my son?). His mother, always by his side.
She looked beautiful with her hair starting to be white, she was late into her 40s, she had the three siblings very late for what the norm usually was, his parents never said why, maybe they tried but did not work or they just did not want children when they were young nevertheless Aegon doubted there was a kinder mother in all of Westeros or the east, she was the personification of the goddess Meleys, the goddess of love and kindness.
She wore a blue dress with a matching tiara, always proud of her Velaryon heritage.
"Kessa, gaomagon daor zūgagon muña" (Yes, do not worry mother).
"Nyke gīmigon, bisa kostagon sagon yn nyke jorrāelagon, hae iā muña, naejot ȳdragon naejot ao nūmāzma skoros iksis ought naejot massigon bisa bantis". (I know, this may be uncomfortable but I need, as a mother, to talk to you about what is ought to happen tonight).
Aegon tried to hide his embarrassment, although it was difficult to do so, he felt his cheeks grow red and his beat accelerating.
He did not have much experience with women for he only knew Visenya and he had no desire to change that. Orys was far more adventurous than him and he had told him a great deal that he was eager to try with his new bride.

They had played with each other before marriage, of course, their bodies grew up and their desire did as well but it felt like always someone interrupted them, it did not matter if they were at the beach, inside their chambers, in a hidden cave… they were always caught but after tonight no one would care, no one could insult them any more.

"Muña, mirre iksis sȳz, nyke gīmigon skoros iksis naejot sagon se olvie īlon jorrāelagon tolie naejot sagon se gūrēñagon skorkydoso naejot sagon valzȳrys se ābrazȳrys". (Mother, all is good, I know what is to be known and most importantly we love each other enough to be patient and learn how to be husband and wife).
The woman smiled and patted her son on his back. She was proud of him, of the man he was becoming, she was proud of the three of them, she had used to say that she got lucky but Aegon knew it was no mere of luck, it was her hard work, her dedication and love to her children payed off and they would be forever grateful to have her in their life.
"My lord, my lady, Lord Horas Redwyne requested a word". Orys announced, avoiding looking into Valaena’s eyes. Mother and son nodded.
The relationship between his sworn protector and his mother had an interesting relationship in the sense that it was non-existent, his mother had always been kind to Sir Orys but kept her distance for reasons that Aegon suspected but decided to not ask. He preferred to be kept in the dark for certain secrets.
Lord Redwyne was a thin dark skinned man with hair as orange as autumn pumpkins. He had always been kind to the siblings, Visenya found him strangely amusing, for he had a terrible sense of humor and that was something his bride loved.
"Lord Horas, how kind of you to come", his mother had an honest smile on her face. She also liked the man, he had been a loyal partner to her husband’s business and to the family.
"I would never say no to an opportunity to visit Dragonstone, I would not miss a chance to see those beautiful beasts of yours, Lady Valaena".
"Oh my lord, we are not only beasts, we have names, Visenya, Aegon and Rhaenys, remember?".
Aegon’s wife appeared on the scene, making Lord Horas burst into a deep uncontrollable laughter.
If she looked beautiful during the ceremony, she was a vision with her new dress. It was a semi transparent black robe with golden details, she wore a red robe under it, made of dornish silk. The upper part seemed like armor, tight, too tight for Aegon’s sanity, it tied at the neck but left her chest open.
Aegon cursed his sister Rhaenys in secret, for he had no doubt it was her idea to put her sister in that dress. Although, he also reminded himself he had to thank her later for that very same reason.
He had already been thinking all day of the moment he could be alone with her and she was making him lose his mind in that moment.
"May the seven bless you and your sense of humor, Lady Visenya, may they never take it away".
"I will make sure to tell my gods, Lord Horas.
Aegon laughed trying to cover the fact he was getting closer to his sister. Until his arm touched her back, caressing her slowly.
"Your lord father has told me you are visiting the Reach for your first marriage journey. May I invite you to the Arbor? We are bottling a new wine, we would be very happy to have you there".
Aegon was extremely excited for the trip. He didn’t understand why Visenya chose the Reach from all places, it seemed so out of character for her but he complied, for it was his first chance to be in that mysterious West land he dreamed about.
"It would be an honor and a pleasure, my lord. Thank you".
"You will be amazed by our new vines. We have created sweeter wine, it’s a mix of dornish and vines from the reach, left to marinate for at least five years…"
Lord Horas could talk for hours about vines types until the person he was talking to fell on his knees begging for mercy.
"My lord, my children will have the joy and privilege to see those vines in person, unfortunately I won’t. Would you like to come with me and explain all of this to me?".
Lord Redwyne’s face lit up in joy. Like a kid receiving a name day’s gift.

The siblings saw the pair leaving and exchanged a knowing look.
Aegon knew his sister was as excited as him for that night.
"Ao jurnegon tolī gevie, mandia. Kostan daor umbagon naejot sagon mērī lēda ao". (You look too beautiful, sister. I cannot wait to be alone with you).
"Oh yn ziry iksos such iā morneo" (Oh but it 's such a pity).
"Gaomagon ao nūmāzma, mandia?" (What do you mean, sister?) –Visenya turned to him, hiding him from the sight of the rest of the party. Her hands traveling dangerously to his breaches.
"Iā gevie grēza bona īlva mandia ēdas nyke se sir iksā rip ziry hen nyke". (With such a beautiful dress that our sister had gifted me and now you are gonna rip it off me).
"Gaoman daor emagon naejot pryjagon ziry" (Well I don’t have to break it).
"Oh yn nyke haegon gaomā" (Oh but I hope you do). Aegon stopped breathing for a second.
His sister's purple eyes locked with his, she had the darkest eyes of the three, his sister Rhaenys were almost gray in comparison.
He usually knew how to contain himself but looking in those eyes and that dress and that chest… He kissed her, hard for the whole world to see.

"Attention! May I have your attention please!"
Rhaenys’ voice woke them up from their trance, thank the gods, Aegon did not know what he would have done if that had not happened.
Maybe they would have had a public bedding after all.
"So, first of all thank you for coming to celebrate love and family. I cannot believe this day has finally come…"
A sob caught in Rhaenys' throat, tears in her eyes. That wedding was as much hers as it was theirs, they both knew it and wouldn’t have it any other way.
Aegon was extremely proud and happy to call her sister.
"Anyway, I have a gift for the beautiful bride and the handsome groom".
Some people entered the room, they were dressed in traditional valyrian clothes, similar to the ones they both wore for their ceremony.
They carried strange instruments, they seemed made for music. They were clearly made with exquisite care, with reliefs carefully carved, the instruments itself told stories.
Their father approached the newlyweds in distress, their mother barely catching him.
"What in the seven hells is she doing?"
"I don’t know any seven hells, kepa and our sister is very obviously giving us a gift" Visenya was quick, too quick for her father.
The songs those strangers played were deep and even gruesome in a way Aegon could not explain, a woman's voice sounded clear among the drums and chords, like a siren calling him to drown at the sea.
"They are a band of musicians from Lys, they are pure blood Valyrians, they have kept our traditions. I wanted them to sing today for you".
He could hear Rhaenys speaking but felt faint.

That music.
It was waking up something in him he couldn’t fully understand.

"Issa jorrāelagon, ao gaomagon daor jurnegon sȳrī". (My dear, you do not look well).
His mother held his arm, bringing him back to reality.
"Lēkia, gaomagon ao jaelagon naejot ilagon". (Brother, do you need to sit down?). His sisters were looking at him with alarming eyes. Rhaenys seemed upset, she was clearly not expecting that reaction to her gift.
His father had a severe expression, he was unpleased by the whole affair and Aegon knew his sister would get in trouble for it.
"Do not worry. Sister, tell me, can you dance these types of songs?"
Rhaenys hesitated to answer for she did not know the intentions of his brother.
"I… I do not know".
"Well, find out because I do love this music and I wish for you to dance until your feet hurt but I feel I have drunk too much and I need to sit down if I want to be ready for my bedding" Aegon took Rhaenys’s hands in his, making her laugh for the first time in a while making her blush like the little girl she was. "Do not worry, for it is my wedding and my sister just gave me the best gift I could ask for".
Visenya had a proud look on her face.

Oh, there were not enough words in the common tongue or valyrian to explain how much they loved each other.

Rhaenys left running, excited beyond imagination. Her father followed her trying to stop her with the maester chastising her under his breath.
Aegon tried to smile until he was out of sight. He needed to hold Visenya's arms while he walked.
"Lo ao gaomagon daor feel sȳrī, īlon gaomagon daor emagon naejot…" (If you do not feel well, we don’t have to…).
"Nyke sepār jorrāelagon naejot, nyke jāhor sagon sȳz syt" (I am sure I just need to res and I will be ready for tonight).
As much as he tried to convince his wife, Aegon could not even convince himself.

Those drums were haunting him again. Those bloody drums.

The people dancing.

His sister.

And that woman’s voice, piercing through.

The room started spinning around him, everything becoming a blurry mess.
He felt a warm liquid on his face, it took him a moment to realize blood was coming out of his nose.
"Aegon!" both his mother and Visenya caught him before he could fall hard into the ground.
Sir Orys went running trying to hold his head while he dozed again into a strange slumber.

He heard women’s voices again, different women, he might have heard a man’s voice, he could not be sure, he knew that wasn’t the singers but it was something as deep as fire as dark. A vision that swept him off his feet and made him transcend into a different time, a different place.
“I fed my last husband to my dragon..”.
“Dragons… the grief and the glory of our house…”.

It felt like he was flying, not on Balerion, he was the one flying, his arms had turned into wings, He saw a thousand bodies on the ground, he knew he had to keep himself afloat. Those voices kept him awake, they kept him alive.
“An eye for an eye, a son for a son…”
“When the sun sets, your line shall end..”.

A red comet passed over his head, it led him to a beach, the same one where he had gotten married that very same day.
There was someone there. A flame in the shape of a woman. Coming out in the midst of salt and smoke.
He heard dragons screeching and a loud scream.
“And I will take what it’s mine, with fire and blood I will take it”

Chapter Text

Visenya was going mad. She had a thousand books in the library of Dragonstone and yet it did not feel enough.
She could not find anything about Aegon’s dreams. She was supposed to be packing for their trip but she feared her dear brother was not going to make it through it.
He spent two days in bed with a fever, speaking nonsense day and night, about fire and three headed dragons, ice and prophecies. He had not eaten and barely drank when forced to. It was not the wedding night she had anticipated but now she could only pray to keep him alive.

“Tala, emagon ao ipradārin?” (Daughter, have you eaten?). Her mother came in. It was midday, Visenya had been up before the sun was up, it was probably the hour of the rabbit, not even the servants were awake yet.
“Daor yet. Nyke ojūdan muñnykeā, nyke kostagon daor vestragon naejot find mirros naejot dohaeragon Aegon”
(Not yet. I feel lost mother, I can not seem to find anything to help Aegon).
She felt tears building up in her eyes. How stupid she was being, she thought. Acting like a little girl.
“Your brother has a fever, he is sick, the maesters are taking good care of him and once the illness pass you two will go off to celebrate your marriage”
“Ziry iksos daor sick, ao gīmigon ziry iksos daor sick. Se ao gīmigon se maesters gaomagon daor gaomagon qrugh” (He is not sick, you know he is not sick. And you know the maesters do not do shit).
Her mother took a deep breath, hiding a smile.
Visenya did not trust the maesters, none of them, in her eyes they held too much power. They had their health in their hands, they had their words and wills and no one seemed to doubt them like sheeps moving along the wolves's pack unsuspected of what laid inside their mouths full of teeths.
“You did not attend your morning fighting lessons, I am starting to get worried. I have enough with one child sick you cannot get ill too”.
Visenya loved sword fighting more than anything else, more than flying on her dragon, although that was something she could not say out loud. Her Vhagar was a fierce and proud beast, one bad word from her rider and she would throw her mid fly in the air. But she got to admit fighting required her lots of focus and patience that right now she did not have while flying felt like emptying her mind of all worries.
“You need to eat and rest”. Her mother caressed her braid with all the kindness and love only a mother could give. Visenya could not help but smile for the first time in days. She wished to be a mother more than anything in the world and she knew she was going to be a good one for she had the best to look up to. But it was a bit complicated to get with child if her husband died two days after their wedding.
“I am going to see Vhagar and then Aegon. She will not forgive me if she thinks Aegon is more important than her”.
Valaena laughed out loud. She might have been a Velaryon but her Targaryen blood ran deep. She was fond of their beasts, she saw them as an extension of her children and Visenya was thankful for it. She could not have stood two people like her father.
“Go and tell her to stop eating the fish that your poor grandfather works so hard to get. I know they are tasty but she is going to make Driftmark go bankrupt!”.

Visenya knew the reason Vhagar was getting more food than usual was because she was preparing her nest for her little ones. She had laid three eggs, it was a surprise, Vhagar had not seemed interested in mating, since Visenya claimed her she had not laid eggs, not once. Maybe it was a sign, they both were going to be mothers at the same time.
Yes it must be that, she said to herself. Maybe Aegon is dreaming about their child, he did mention something about a prince or a princess after all.
A daughter. How would she name her?
Daena or Rhaenys. Rhaenys after her beautiful sister as radiant as the sun.
Or perhaps Rhaena, a mix of both names. Or Daenys, like the dreamer, a dreamer like the child’s father.
And if it was a boy… if she had to be honest she had not thought of boys’ names.
Perhaps they could have a boy first and then an army of girls.
That’s what she wished for, that's what she prayed for every night.

It was getting cold on the island, not really cold for anyone else but for Visenya anything less than scorching hot was cold.
She wore a dress that covered from her neck to her feet, it had scales all over the arms and the back with spikes mimicking Balerion’s. Vhaegar didn’t have that type of skin, she was like a big lizard, her skin was cold and smooth but hard at the same time. It was incredible how different those beasts could be from one another and how they are the same at their core.
Just like them in many ways.
“Issi ao drējī daor nykeōrves” (Are you really not freezing?).
She arrived at the cave, it was the entrance to the nests which lead to the core of the island itself, she had read that once it had been a volcano, just as Old Valyria had been before the falling. Hiding behind among the mist there was his sister as usual.
Rhaenys did not have a dragon of her own but she was the one destined to be a dragon rider, Visenya knew and did not need Aegon’s dreams to assure her of it.
“Ziry iksos daor bona quba”. (It is not that bad).
Her sister seemed to have an irremediable apprehension for clothes. Visenya did not mind, she was the most beautiful being that had ever been born, a sea nymph you only hear about in songs. Especially since that last summer, she had talked with her husband about it, seemingly innocent conversations about her baby sister’s beauty that kept her up all night.
“Nyke ūndan aegon bisa tubis, ziry iksos mirrī tolī yn nykeēdrosa vestragon… dizzy”.
(I saw Aegon this morning, he is a bit more awake but still seems… dizzy).
She laughed, the first time she did in a while. Her sister smiled too. She was worried as well, they had been awake all night, each one at Aegon’s side and Visenya knew that was the right thing to do.
“Ziry iksos going naejot sagon sȳz, iksos ziry daor?” (He is going to be fine, is he not?).
“Ziry iksos. Lodaor se gaon jāhor emagon naejot udligon naejot issa se nyke kostagon assure ao pōnta jāhor sagon sorry syt ziry”. (He is. Otherwise the gods will have to answer to me and I can assure you they will be sorry for it).
She knew that made Rhaenys feel safe for her baby sister knew well that it was true.
If there was someone who could make the gods themselves cry, that was her sister Visenya.
“Are you spying on my dragon again, Byka mandia” (little sister).
“Ziry emagon ilagontan drōma. Nyke've ūndegīva zirȳ. Gaomagon ao pendagon mēre hen zirȳ could sagon issa zaldrīzes”. (She has laid eggs. I've seen them. Do you think one of them could be my dragon?).
Rhaenys always chased the beasts around trying to get on one, trying to take eggs from their nests, running around the wild dragons on the east side of the mountain with no luck.
Visenya had asked her time and time again to have patience, she was only ten and five, Aegon had been ten and two and Visenya herself was ten and three when she claimed Vhagar. What she did not want to admit it’s that she had not been patient herself. She set her eyes on Vhagar, she was determined to get her and so she did.
But she was not going to tell that to her beloved sister. Aegon’s story fitted better. Wait till the dragon choses you, don’t get into trouble nor call for danger upon yourself. Rhaenys did not need any more encouragement to get into trouble, she did that just fine on her own.
“Kostilus, yn ziry iksos daor naejot jenigon nykeā zaldrīzes isse zȳhon nest, ziry jāhor ipradagon ao bē se nyke jāhor emagon naejot emagon tolī than nykeā udir rūsīr zȳhon. Ao kostagon shifang skorkydoso olvie hen nykeā bona would sagon”.
(Perhaps, but it is not wise to bother a dragon in her nest, she will eat you up and I will need to take serious measures. You can understand how much of an inconvenience that would be).
“Ao would vīlībagon aōha zaldrīzes syt issa, jorrāelagon mandia?” (You would fight your dragon for me, dear sister?).
Visenya knew she would do much more for her, for that sweet smile, those rosy cheeks and her eyes, her beloved gray and purple eyes.
She would burn down the world for her.
“I spoil you too much… come on, let’s see if Vhagar does not throw both of us in the middle of the sea”.

Visenya felt a hunger for her sister, when she had her body pressed against her on top of her dragon like that, with her hands locked around her waist. Her skin was smooth and invited you to touch her more and more. Of course she wasn’t as much of a shy idiot like her husband.
“Nyke would raqagon naejot vūjigon ao, mandia” (I would like to kiss you sister).
“Ao gaomagon bona ry se jēda” (You do that all the time).
Rhaenys got a point but Visenya realized they were not speaking of the same acts of love for she would like to kiss her entire body and she knew that even then she would not have enough.
They could see the entire island from there. Their fortress. Theirs and no one else's. Visenya might have encouraged Aegon’s interest in the west because he loved him and love sometimes required that kind of lies. But she would not leave their home. Their dragons. Everything they had built.
They could rule, for the people in the west were mere ants in comparison to them but they should do it there, in Dragonstone.
“Once Aegon gets better and we come back from our travels to the Reach, we need to speak. You are becoming a woman and there’s things a woman must know. I will teach you and probably will have to teach Aegon too”.
Gods be good, her brother was an eager student, like a lost puppy always trying to win a reward.
She had fun breaking him and pulling him back together until he was weeping for her. She was supposed to do that on her wedding night but her brother decided to cause her to lose sleep for all the wrong reasons.
“Are you going to teach me about pleasure?”.
“What do you know about pleasure, issa jorrāelagon” (my dear).
Visenya could see perfectly how Rhaenys’s confident flickered, it was a split of a second but oh how she enjoyed to see that hesitation, that moment of her being that innocent little girl again.
“Kostilus nyke gīmigon nykeā rōvēgrie deal. Tolī than skoros o hen issa” (Perhaps I know a great deal. More than what you expect of me).
Visenya laughed, Rhaenys was a child throwing a tantrum but she enjoyed it nevertheless.
There was a silence between both sisters, only the sound of Vhagar and the waves splashing underneath them but there was a heat, a pure flame between the two, stronger than any dragon’s fire.

“If you crave for each other, why do you deny yourself that. I shall never understand your reservations to join our sister”
“I am really close to shoveling this spoon up your damn ass, brother”.
Aegon woke up that night and surprisingly he was hungry, starving in fact. He looked a bit better, less pale but still weak, he had dark circles around her eyes, despite having slept for days.
“Nyke daor sȳz naejot ao, issa apologies” (I am being unkind to you, my apologies). Visenya laughed at his brother's little mistake, just like their baby sisters.
“I wanted to tell you everything you’ve missed and now you mock me for it”.
“Absolutely no. I am sorry. But what are we gonna do with our dear sister?”
“What do you mean, issa jorrāelagon valzȳrys” (my dear husband).
She knew perfectly fine what her brother meant but preferred to play dumb. The thought of her baby sister being someone else’s wife was enough to make her vomit. She was theirs.
Theirs to love. Theirs to take care of. Theirs to enjoy and to protect.
“Kostilus īlon should gūrogon ziry va īlva trip, gaomagon zirȳla qrīdrughagon hen kepa sīr kostas daor find zirȳla iā valzȳrys gō īlon māzigon arlī”.
(Perhaps we should take her on our trip, keep her away from father so he can not find her a husband before we come back).
Her brother seemed to hesitate for a second which surprised her.
“Ao ȳdra daor jaelagon naejot?” (You don’t want to?). 
"Nyke gaomagon jaelagon naejot spend jēda rūsīr zȳhon yn should daor bisa jēda sagon īlvon, mandia? Nyke pendagon īlon should find nykeā balance rȳ jēda se hāre hen īlva nykeā ao se rhaenys, issa se rhaenys nykeā ao se issa”.
(I do want to spend time with her but should not this time be ours, sister? I think we should find a balance between spending time with the three of us, you and Rhaenys, me and Rhaenys or you and me).
It warmed her heart to hear that. To know that he wanted to spend his time with her, being her husband, but that he also respected her love for her sister.
Aegon was truly made for her. How generous her parents had been when they gave her that precious baby brother.
She left his dinner at a nearby table and rang for the maid to take it. Visenya held his hand, caressing it slightly. It made her so happy just to do that. Just to be with him alone, as husband and wife.
“Umbagon se ēdrugon kesīr, nyke kostagon daor gryves naejot sagon mērī dombo. Nyke gaomagon daor raqagon ziry”.
(Stay and sleep here, I can not bear to be alone any more. I do not like it).
“You are such a big baby” they both laughed, being children once again.
“Where’s Sir Orys?”.
“Speaking with Father”.
Visenya would never say it to her brother out loud but there was something about Orys that made her weary. She did not believe in the one to heir one to spare law.
Aegon should had been the only son of Dragonstone.
“Shouldn’t he be here? Looking out for you?”
“Tell that to father, he is the one who took him from my side”. He pouted when he said that, making Visenya smile at her cuteness.
The maid came, took the plate and waited for instructions.
“Leave us. All of you. I need my maids to bring me my nightgown and my personal items. I shall sleep with my husband tonight”.
Visenya knew those simple words made Aegon extremely happy.

“We need to talk about your dreams” She only trusted to do it alone. There was some power in them. Visenya was not sure what it was but it was a deep magic only the blood of the dragon understood.
“Ziry istan tolī than sepār nykeā fever. Se giēñrȳī iksos nykeā idiot”. (It was more than just a fever. The maester is an idiot).
Aegon whispered it like he was scared. Just the thought of it, of those dreams were enough to send shivers down his spine and hers as well. Although she would never admit it.
“Gaomagon ao pendagon ziry does daor gīmigon? Ao pendagon nykeā giēñrȳī, qilōni emagon jollōragon se qilōni emagon se hen jēdri hen naejot zirȳla rȳ se citadel, does daor gīmigon skorkydoso naejot nykeā hen?”.
(Do you think he does not know? You think a maester, who has studied the greatest arts, who has thousands of years of knowledge available to him at the Citadel, does not know how to differentiate a fever dream from deep magic?). 
“What are you implying, wife?”
“Ao ȳzaldrīzes ao ēdrugon. Bē perzys se ānogar, zaldrīzoti se suvion, bē nykeā dārilaros… Gaomā daor pendagon bona syt zirȳ. Issi worms, Aegon, iksi zaldrīzoti. Pōnta keligon rȳ daorun naejot ūndegon īlva”.
(You spoke in your sleep. About fire and blood, dragons and ice, about a prince… Do you think that is not a threat for them? They are worms, Aegon, we are dragons. They would do anything to stop us, to contain us).
Her brother held her hand a bit tighter when she mentioned his dreams. He was scared, she knew it well, it was uncharacteristic for Aegon to be so. Visenya could only remember him being scared when he was a child, when it rained so hard the thunder could be heard from across the Narrow Sea. He used to hide under the bed with Visenya holding his hand the same way she was doing now.
“Nyke gaomagon daor gīmigon skoros pōnta nūmāzma yn īlon līs gaomagon mirros bē zirȳ. Lo ao issi paktot se nyke gaomagon daor ao issi. Nyke kostagon mērī pāsagon ao se īlva mandia rūsīr ziry”.
(I do not know what they mean but we must do something about them. If you are right and I do not doubt you are. I can only trust you and our sister with it).
“Nyke jāhor dohaeragon ao, lēkia, ao jorrāelagon nyke jāhor gaomagon ziry. Istin īlon jiōragon naejot se māzigon, rūsīr se hen īlva trip īlon jāhor visit Oldtown, se Citadel iksos konīr, ry hen knowledge pōnta ruaragon hen īlva jāhor sagon rȳ īlva māzigon. īlon won’t jorrāelagon maesters, īlon jāhor find syt jemēla”.
(I will help you, brother, whatever you need I will do it. Once we get to the Reach, with the excuse of our trip we will visit Oldtown, the Citadel is there, all of the knowledge they hide from us will be at our reach. We won’t need maesters, we will find answers for ourselves).
If anyone thought Visenya wanted to visit the Reach to pick up flowers and buy silk, they knew nothing about her.
The Citadel was the only thing that interested her from the West. S
he would feed the maesters to the fishes on the Honeywine, they weren’t worth it of being eaten by her dragon and she would take every single one of those books and study them, bath in their knowledge and the powers they would give her.
“Nyke ȳdra daor gīda gīmigon lo se maesters issi aware hen skoros's māzis”. (I don’t even know if the maesters are aware of what’s coming).
Aegon whispered it. It was a shadow looming over their heads, a ghost haunting them. “What are you talking about?”
“A night that never ends, a winter as cruel as the stranger and the princess who was promised”.

Chapter Text

“I need to hear it, one more time”.
Visenya knew she was being obnoxious but there was not much time left alone.

She needed to know what to look for on the Citadel. It was difficult to decide where to start, they had a thousand dreams to choose from. But Aegon was sure of one thing. Something was coming for them and he was terrified of it.

“ Ēdan dreamt hen ziry gō. Issa morghon, mandia. Morghon. Nyke kivigon īles.  Lykemagon surrounding ziry, daorun ondoso lykemagon se suvion.  Se ziry dōrī keliton. Nyke kivigon ñuha jorrāelagon, nyke might emagon issare asleep syt iā tubis yn ziry felt iā.  Konīr sia, pōnta jūndan rȳ nyke lēda pōja corpse-like laesi. Yn pār mirros, mirros nyke daor: vala lēda se bartos hen zokla, iā zaldrīzes vēttan hen wool se iā perzys isse se shape hen iā ābra. Māzis hen isse se hen lopor se ōrbar, ondoso iā ānogrosa nehure qēlos. S e suvion.  Se vēzos māstan arlī.   Targārien ānogar conquered se bantis”.

(I had dreamt of it before. It is death, sister. Death. I swear it was. Silence surrounding it, nothing by silence and ice. And it never ended. I swear my love, I might have been asleep for a day but it felt a lifetime.
There were bodies everywhere, they looked at me with their corpse-like eyes. But then something else, something I cannot explain: a man with the head of a wolf, a dragon made of wool and a flame in the shape of a woman.
Coming out in the midst of salt and smoke, marked by a bleeding star.
The ice melted. The sun came back. 
Targaryen blood conquered the night).

Visenya had shivers down her spine every time she heard it. And yet it hardly made sense.
“Got it, mandia?” (sister). As much as she loved him, she had to admit: Aegon could be a little shit sometimes.
“Of course I got it. It can not possibly be that hard to find an answer at the Citadel. I mean, how many prophecies do you think there are about a chosen one defeating the greatest evil there is?”. Aegon smiled. They both did for a moment.
How strange but fitting for them it was to find joy in such a crucial moment.

Oldtown was the biggest city Visenya had ever seen in her life.
To be fair she had only seen Dragonstone and Driftmark before but it still stands.

It was busy, you could see the constant movement of people. Visenya felt a sting of jealousy, those worms could enjoy all of these riches and beauties but they had to settle on being stuck on an island, a lovely island that she loved but a piece of stone in the middle of the sea at the end of the day.
“That’s Lord Hightower. He is a very pious man, devoted to the faith of the Seven” Lord Redwyne had insisted on accompanying them, clearly not trusting them being out and about… especially Visenya.
“So he likes fairy tales. Charming” 
“Mandia, it is their tradition and we are their guests” Aegon sounded concerned. He was much more of a diplomat than she was.
“Yes, do not worry, I know how to play the part”.
“Lord Redwyne! And the little dragons, what a lovely party of visitors this is”.
Lord Hightower was an old man, dressed in simple grey robes, with a simple grey hat and a simple grey beard. He could very well pass as one of the maesters that accompanied him.
They seemed an army around him, all dressed the same, boys and men of every age and appearance. Some wore heavy chains filled with metals of every possible colour and shape.
It was a worthy but chaste spectacle, it contrasted with the grandiosity of the citadel’s gates.
“Lord Hightower, my wife and I are grateful for your welcome and safe passage into the city” Aegon did not smile but he lowered his head in respect.
Visenya hated it. Such a small gesture but one of servitude. Unworthy of a dragon.
“Lord Aegon, we are delighted to have you and your sister… or your wife, in our beloved Oldtown” Hightower seemed uncomfortable with their choice of words.
"Sister and wife. It is not one or the other, my lord”.

Everyone fell silent with Visenya’s words. 
Just as she liked it.
She felt much better without hearing noise and blatant stupidity.

“My wife is right. We are in fact both. We are very fortunate to be able to say so”.
What a man Aegon was, as much as Visneya knew he hated being in that situation with every inch of her body, she had him by her side. She will always have him.
“I must say, my lord, this is an extraordinary receivement, may Lord Aegon and Lady Visenya meet your companions?”. Redwyne chimed in, definitely trying to ease the building tension.
“Of course. This is the archmaester…”

Visenya could not care less about those men, she knew enough about them already. It was the great walls behind them that caught all of her attention.
The Citadel was a great fortress, not as intimidating as Dragonstone but impressive nevertheless. 
Two giant sphinxes of green stone, one male, one female, guarded the great door. Immortal monsters guarding the treasure she so desired. She felt like the adventurers of her childhood's stories. The hero fighting great monsters to get their well deserved prize.

“Are we going to visit the inside now?”
“The inside, my lady?” The archmaester spoke.
Visenya felt uneasy with the way he looked at her, not intimidated. Never that. But it was the kind of look every mother warned their daughters about, full of unreciprocated lust that made her want to vomit.
“The charms of the Citadel do not end at your door. Do they?”
“My sister has a curious nature and she is the scholar out of the three. There is nothing that I wish more as a wedding gift than to give her a look on your marvellous library”
What a snake charmer her brother was.
Visenya could not help but smile. Their mother had done a wonderful job with his tutoring.
“No one, except the maesters can enter the citadel”.
“Well, that’s not entirely true. Many high lords have come to enjoy the knowledge behind your walls”. Lord Redwyne seemed to be on their side. Surprisingly, he was proving to be useful.
“As you said. High lords. I am sure we both agree this is not the case”.
Visenya wanted nothing more than to cut the archmaester’s tongue and shove it down Lord Hightower stupid face.
“Do you not consider us worthy of your time?”. Oh how she knew what Aegon meant with that. That calmness that screamed like a threat 
“I do not know you, my lord”
“You will, archmaesters. That should not be a concern” Aegon suddenly seemed ten feet tall and as fearless and threatening as his Balerion. 
“If it is not possible on this visit. We can come back. Although it would be inconvenient to bother Lord Redwyne again, we might have to come with our dragons. Would that be better?”

Silence fell among the welcoming party. Even their hosts seemed uncomfortable at his brother’s proposal.

Moments later they were escorted to the inside of the citadel.

Chapter Text

“I need to hear it, one more time”.

Visenya knew she was being obnoxious but there was not much time left alone.

They could see the Hightower’s beacon burning bright, signaling they had finally arrived to Oldtown.

It had been a journey too long for her taste. They had not been allowed to fly, both of their parents were deeply against it, with the ongoing war between the king of Storms and that insufferable idiot on the Blackwater Bay, it could be seen as their house mendling into that nasty affair.

Nonsense, Visenya thought, if they truly decided to be involved in their little child’s tantrum, The Targaryen were not the ones to be worried.
Harren the Black and the old man Argilac would quiver in fear at the sight of their beasts.

For that they were forced to sail with one of their grandfather’s ships to The Arbor, to stand the nonsensical rant of Lord Redwyne.

It took them a month to get there, then another two days lost in The Arbor and yet Visenya felt it was not enough time.

Aegon had new dreams almost every step of the journey. 

Passing the Narrow Sea, he saw a little girl riding a horse as pale as the moon.
Surrounding the Stepstones, he dreamt of a prince, as bright as the sun, falling from the sky.
When Dorne was already on sight and they could smell the spices in the air, he did not have a night of rest.

He dreamt of blue roses, covered in blood.
Of a beautiful dragon with a golden crown, also covered in bright red blood.
By the time their ship coasted the river Brimstone’s mouth, he began violently vomiting.

In The Arbor, he seemed to find rest, her husband slept like a baby during those two days, Visenya could not feel more joy than seeing him like this. His humor improved and so did his appetite, both for food and for his wife.
“Maybe you were seasick, my lord. You could be more of a knight than a sailor”. One of Lord Redwyne’s daughters said during their first dinner together.
“My mother is a Velaryon, we have the sea in our veins, my lady. Believe me, my husband was not sea sick”.
Visenya took great offence to the lady's words. A stupid little child. She thought.
But Aegon begged her to keep the secret. She knew it was the wisest thing to do but still it made her blood boil.
They did not know what those dreams meant and Visenya knew her brother feared they would never fully understand it.

It had taken some convincing for the Hightower to let them visit Oldtown. Not only that, but Lord Rewyne told them king Mern was aware of their presence.
“ Iksi olvie famous. Imagine skoros would massigon lo īlon maghatan īlva zaldrīzoti ”
(We are quite famous. Imagine what would happen if we brought our dragons) .
Visenya joked one night in bed.
They were both naked, with Aegon resting on her lap.
“Mēre tubis kesi” (One day we will) . He whispered “ Nyke pendagon mēre tubis kesi maghagon zirȳ ” (I think one day we will bring them).

They were scared of them. The Gardener king, Hightowers and even Redwyne. They were terrified of their power. They both agreed on that.
Visenya liked it, finally her brother was coming to terms with the fire they had inside.

“I need to hear it, one more time”.
Visenya knew she was being obnoxious but there was not much time left alone.

She needed to know what to look for on the Citadel. It was difficult to decide where to start, they had a thousand dreams to choose from. But Aegon was sure of one thing. Something was coming for them and he was terrified of it.

“ Ēdan dreamt hen ziry gō. Issa morghon, mandia. Morghon. Nyke kivigon īles. Lykemagon surrounding ziry, daorun ondoso lykemagon se suvion.  
Se ziry dōrī keliton. Nyke kivigon ñuha jorrāelagon, nyke might emagon issare asleep syt iā tubis yn ziry felt iā lifetime. Konīr sia, pōnta jūndan rȳ nyke lēda pōja corpse-like laesi. Yn pār mirros, mirros nyke daor: vala lēda se bartos hen zokla, iā zaldrīzes vēttan hen wool se iā perzys isse se shape hen iā ābra. Māzis hen isse se hen lopor se ōrbar, ondoso iā ānogrosa nehure qēlos.
Se suvion.  Se vēzos māstan arlī.  
Targārien ānogar conquered se bantis”.

(I had dreamt of it before. It is death, sister. Death. I swear it was. Silence surrounding it, nothing by silence and ice.
And it never ended. I swear my love, I might have been asleep for a day but it felt a lifetime. There were bodies everywhere, they looked at me with their corpse-like eyes. But then something else, something I cannot explain: a man with the head of a wolf, a dragon made of wool and a flame in the shape of a woman. Coming out in the midst of salt and smoke, marked by a bleeding star.
The ice melted. The sun came back.
Targaryen blood conquered the night) .

Visenya had shivers down her spine every time she heard it. And yet it hardly made sense.
“Got it, mandia? ” (sister). As much as she loved him, she had to admit: Aegon could be a little shit sometimes.
“Of course I got it. It can not possibly be that hard to find an answer at the Citadel. I mean, how many prophecies do you think there are about a chosen one defeating the greatest evil there is?”.
Aegon smiled. They both did for a moment. How strange but fitting for them it was to find joy in such a crucial moment.

Oldtown was the biggest city Visenya had ever seen in her life.

To be fair she had only seen Dragonstone and Driftmark before but it still stands.
It was busy, you could see the constant movement of people. Visenya felt a sting of jealousy, those worms could enjoy all of these riches and beauties but they had to settle on being stuck on an island, a lovely island that she adored but a piece of stone in the middle of the sea, at the end of the day.
“That’s Lord Hightower. He is a very pious man, devoted to the faith of the Seven” Lord Redwyne had insisted on accompanying them, clearly not trusting them being out and about… especially Visenya.
“So he likes fairy tales. Charming” 
“Mandia, it is their tradition and we are their guests” Aegon sounded concerned. He was much more of a diplomat than she was.
“Yes, do not worry, I know how to play the part”.

“Lord Redwyne! And the little dragons, what a lovely party of visitors this is”.
Lord Hightower was an old man, dressed in simple grey robes, with a simple grey hat and a simple grey beard. He could very well pass as one of the maesters that accompanied him.
They seemed an army around him, all dressed the same, boys and men of every age and appearance. Some wore heavy chains filled with metals of every possible colour and shape.
It was a worthy but chaste spectacle, it contrasted with the grandiosity of the citadel’s gates.
“Lord Hightower, my wife and I are grateful for your welcome and safe passage into the city” Aegon did not smile but he lowered his head in respect.
Visenya hated it. Such a small gesture but one of servitude. Unworthy of a dragon.
“Lord Aegon, we are delighted to have you and your sister… or your wife, in our beloved Oldtown” Hightower seemed uncomfortable with their choice of words.
“Sister and wife. It is not one or the other, my lord”.

Everyone fell silent with Visenya’s words.
Just as she liked it.
She felt much better without hearing noise and blatant stupidity.

“My wife is right. We are in fact both. We are very fortunate to be able to say so”.
What a man Aegon was, as much as Visneya knew he hated being in that situation with every inch of his body, he had her back. He will always have her back.
“I must say, my lord, this is an extraordinary receivement, may Lord Aegon and Lady Visenya meet your companions?”. Redwyne chimed in, definitely trying to ease the building tension.
“Of course. This is the archmaester…”

Visenya could not care less about those men, she knew enough about them already. It was the great walls behind them that caught all of her attention.
The Citadel was a great fortress, not as intimidating as Dragonstone but impressive nevertheless.
Two giant sphinxes of green stone, one male, one female, guarded the great door. Immortal monsters guarding the treasure she so desired.
“Are we going to visit the inside now?”
“The inside, my lady?” The archmaester spoke. Visenya felt uneasy with the way he looked at her, not intimidated. Never that. But it was the kind of look every mother warned their daughters about, full of unreciprocated lust that made her want to vomit.
“The charms of the Citadel do not end at your door. Do they?”
“My sister has a curious nature and she is the scholar out of the three. There is nothing that I wish more as a wedding gift than to give her a look on your marvellous library”
What a snake charmer her brother was.
Visenya could not help but smile. Their mother had done a wonderful job with his tutoring.
“No one, except the maesters can enter the citadel”.
“Well, that’s not entirely true. Many high lords have come to enjoy the knowledge behind your walls”. Lord Redwyne seemed to be on their side. Surprisingly, he was proving to be useful.
“As you said. High lords. I am sure we both agree this is not the case”.
Visenya wanted nothing more than to cut the archmaester’s tongue and shove it down Lord Hightower stupid face.
“Do you not consider us worthy of your time?”. Oh how she knew what Aegon meant with that. That calmness that screamed like a threat 
“I do not know you, my lord”

“You will, archmaesters. That should not be a concern” Aegon suddenly seemed ten feet tall and as fearless and threatening as his Balerion. 
“If it is not possible on this visit. We can come back. Although it would be inconvenient to bother Lord Redwyne again, we might have to come with our dragons. Would that be better?”

Silence fell among the welcoming party. Even their hosts seemed uncomfortable at his brother’s proposal.

Moments later they were escorted to the inside of the citadel. 

"What are you interested in, my lady?” an old maester approached her.
He did not have those wanton eyes, only mere curiosity and, dare she said, admiration or something like it.
“My husband would like to see a detailed map of the Seven Kingdoms. Mountains, rivers, seas and every piece of land and borders”.
“Do you plan to travel across Westeroes?” 

Everyone seemed to pay attention to Aegon. Visenya did not mind, afterall he was a sight to enjoy.
But that left her alone with… whoever that man was.
“I do not know. We just want to learn about the world surrounding us, since we are from… such a small island” She hated every word that came out of her mouth, how pathetic it sounded in her tongue.
But she had to learn to play the game.

“We have a few, very detailed maps. We have great cartographers. But what about you, my lady?”
“Who are you?” Visenya trusted two people in her life and one was married to her.
“Archmaester Ollidar” He was an old man, with a feeble smile. His eyes were small from his advanced age but they seemed kind and specially wise.
“I have a broad spectrum of interests, so do all of you for what I know. I’ve read a bit about your order. Your chain is made of bronze, that means you’re kin to history”
“And astronomy” His face lightened up, boosting with pride. He had been studying for years, perfecting his craft  “if you were to choose a chain, my lady, which would it be?”
“Valyrian steel, of course”.

“Bisa iksin syt daorun”. (This was for nothing).
Visenya was exasperated with the whole day but especially with her brother.
He was looking at his maps like a little boy with a shiny new toy. Writing on them, planning something, a game he had not shared with Visenya yet but she very well suspected it had to do with his dreams.
"īlon jiōraton bisa. Issa sȳz syt sir”. (We got this. It is good for now).
“Skorkydoso bōsa gaomagon emi? gaomas aōha dreams ivestragon mirros? skorkydoso bōsa till aōha dreams māzigon drēje?”.
(How long do we have? Does your dreams say something? How long till your dreams come true?).

Visenya felt a weight on her shoulders. If Aegon was right, death was coming for them.
And she knew as well as the sun comes out every day that he was right.
They had an enemy to face, them or their children, maybe their childrens after that but someone from their blood will have to face it.

A dragon of wool.
A saviour of fire and ash.
A man with a wolf face.

What did it all mean?
Why did the gods choose them?

The world rested on them. It felt like that. It was like that.

And his brother was playing with maps.

Aegon sighed. He left his chart on the table.  Visenya had to admit she melted a bit when he looked at her. Even filled with fury she still loved him more than anything in this world.
“Sȳrī, ñuha dreams issi daor va lī tembyr”. (Well, my dreams are not in those books).
"Daor yn kosti sylugon naejot shifang zirȳ.  Maybe bardutan nūmāzma bisa. Ao daor sagon se ēlī mēre naejot ūndegon bisa future. Bisa sōnar”. 
(No but we can try to understand them. Maybe someone already wrote about this. You cannot be the first one to see this future. This winter).

And if he was the first, they were doomed. 

“Iksā paktot.  Hen rhinka iksā paktot” (You are right. Of course you are right).
Visenya took a deep breath. He sat next to her brother, looking at his maps.
“Skoros role gaomagon ao pendagon īlon tymagon isse bisa, Aegon?”. (What role do you think we play in this, Aegon?).

She sounded exhausted. She was.

It was well late into the night. It was raining outside, Lord Redwyne said it was strange for rain in the Reach this time of the year.
The heavens were kind to her in that way, for there’s nothing she loved more than that type of weather.

Lord Hightower had offered for them to stay at their seat in Oldtown.  It was a nice home but again, Lord Hightower had too many children following them around.
He kept insisting on how his eldest son was a nice match for their sister Rhaenys, which made her blood boil.

“Have you spent any time at court, Lady Visenya?”. The son was not as bad as Lord Hightower’s daughters. Gossiping like fishermen’s wives during the entire dinner.
“What court? Dragonstone has no monarchs but our dragons”.
“Well but maybe one of the seven… My sister and I are ladies in waiting for princess Gardener, our father is very close to the king. Right, papa?” The child seemed so content in herself.
Pathetic. She thought. Being happy about working as a glorified servant.

“I have ladies in waiting. I do not need to be one”.
“From which houses” It seemed Visenya had struck a nerve with the daughters. Their tone had hardened, filled with envy.
She really could not distinguish one from the other. They were both as annoying and had the same high pitched whiny voice.
“Why in the seven kingdoms do you… ?”.

“Prudence, who accompanies us in this journey, belongs to House Celtigar of Claw Isle and our cousin Naerys from House Velaryon. She has stayed at home with our sister”.
If Aegon had not intervened she would have feast on their tongues.
"And you, Lord Aegon. Have you been a squire for any of your neighbors? Your Velaryon grandfather perhaps?" Lord Hightower had behaved surprisingly well the entire dinner. Better than his daughters at least.
"We have spent many summers at Driftmark but no, I have a sworn protector of my own. Lord Orys Waters. He stayed at home. I wanted him to protect my sister Rhaenys".
And Visenya had refused to let him go with them. But that was not important in that moment.

“You wear an interesting dress, Lady Visenya. It seems more armour than silk”. 
She did not know what to think of Lady Hightower. Sometimes she seemed kind but for the most part she seemed all smoke and mirrors.
“Is it traditional Valyrian, perhaps?”. The son said, whatever his name was.
“Yes, we are the last of our kind, we must keep our traditions. That’s what we do at home”.

Visenya indeed missed her home immensely. Her sister's warm smile, her mother’s kisses and her Vhagar. She knew Aegon missed them in some way too but he was far too excited about the adventure to show. He enjoyed travelling around, like a bunch of theatre clowns.

“Emi naejot rhaenagon mirros greater than jemēla. Emi naejot sagon se ēlī. Īlon jorrāelagon naejot beqes seeds bona kessa blossom isse Westeroes se kessa save zirȳ mēre tubis. Issa daor iā grateful task syt kesi possibly daor ūndegon se results isse īlva lifetime yn ziry iksos mēre bona mērī īlva kostagon gaomagon”.
(We have to start something greater than ourselves. We have to be the first. We need to sow seeds that will blossom in Westeroes and will save them one day.
It is not a grateful task for we will possibly not see the results in our lifetime but it's one that only us can do).

Visenya wanted to cry but she could not afford that, not in front of her baby brother. What a way for words he had. It was a pity he did not use that talent more often.

They laid together that night.
Like all the others.
Visenya did not want to admit it for she did not want to get her hopes high, it was too early but she had not bled that month.
She prayed every night to the old and the new gods, to the ones in Valyria and whatever idiots the Hightowers prayed to. Every night he wished for a child and after her brother’s words more than ever.
She had a duty for only her could continue their line and she will do so, sooner than later if she could help it.

The next day they went back to the Citadel to dance the same awful tune.

The maesters resisted for them to enter. They agreed after mentioning their dragons. They proceed to ignore Visenya and follow Aegon around.

That day they were apparently going to visit the second floor.

Visenya thought it was good they were going up to the skies. The taller they went the more sure it was that none survived after she pushed them through the windows.

“How are the maps, my lady?” there it was, Archmaester Ollidar. She would have sworn he looked even older than the day prior.
“I have no idea, my husband is hoarding them, I cannot even take a look”.
“It seems hard that anyone can deny you anything, Lady Visenya” He sounded amused for some reason.
“Why? Am I too beautiful?” She did not have much patience, especially for men.
“Well that and the fact that you’ve got a Valyrian steel sword. I guess the latter helps win fights more often than not”.
Visenya could not stop herself from smiling. Patting her companion, firmly tied on her side.

“She is called Dark Sister”.
“A fitting name”.
“My parents gifted her to me for my sixteenth name day. It has been in our family for generations”.

What a good memory that was. It made Visenya feel seen and validated. She was a Targaryen, a valyrian warrior for all to see, not only in name but with actions and the ghosts of a thousand ancestors behind her tied to that sword.
“A very thoughtful gift. My lady, I must confess, I wanted to ask you since yesterday about something and I fear you are going to leave us before I could even bring up the topic”.
For a moment, she felt like a fool thinking kindly of that man.

First of all he was a man, a westerosi man. Secondly, he was a maester.
Who in their right mind would trust one of the men at the Citadel?.

“Be careful, archmaester. Questions can be dangerous, especially when done indiscreetly”.
“Well… yes. But I just wanted to ask… Do you have a dragon, my lady?”.
“Excuse me”.
“I just like them, I find them fascinating. I am not allowed to talk about them of course, but now that we seem alone, I wished to ask you about them. I have only seen depictions of them in books but they seem like such marvellous beasts”.
Visenya hardly ever found herself speechless but from all the twists and turns that conversations could have taken, she was absolutely not expecting that.

“Well, yes. I do have a dragon of course, her name is Vhagar. She is green and… big” For some reason, she found it difficult to describe her all of a sudden, she heard herself like a child trying to find the words in front of her septa. “But not as big as my brother’s. Balerion is a beast like no other. A black wave of fire and destruction”.
And how proud that made her.

“Oh they sound terrifying” the archmaester had a smile when talking about it. That made Visenya smile. Again. Twice that man had amused her today.
“Yes, yes they are. I do cherish them for it. But why are you not allowed to speak of them?”
“Many maesters consider there’s no place in the Citadel for magic, much less for dragons” the old man sounded terribly sad by this, like a little bird inside a cage.
“But you do study them. The chain of Valyrian steel is made for the ones who study the unknown arts, is it not?” What a strange man they were.
“Yes but what we study is what is at our reach, what we can master. No maester, no matter their knowledge will ever be able to tame a dragon”.
“And if you cannot control it, are we the enemy then?”.
There was an uncomfortable and telling silence between them.

Visenya wanted to burn the whole thing to the ground. The Citadel, Oldtown, the Hightowers and the maesters deserved to know what a true enemy looked like.

“I learned about dragons when I was an acolyte” There was a glimpse of nostalgia in his eyes, of a time long ago before Visenya was even born. Maybe the same glimpse she got when talking about her Vhagar. “I loved astrology since before I knew what it was, I just wanted to learn about the stars. I was studying comets, I read red comets symbolise dragons and I did not know what that was…”

“What did you just say?”
The old man seemed confused, clearly not expecting Visenya to even be listening to him.

A red comet. 
Aegon had mentioned one in his dreams.

“The comet. The red comet that symbolises dragons. Are they common?” 
“No, my lady, not at all. Only one had been seen in the last thousand years. But they are mentioned in some stories. Even prophecies”.
Visenya looked at her brother, considering what was the best course of action. She could not discover their secret, Aegon had been very clear about it and she agreed.
But an opportunity was right in front of them. A lead, the first they ever had.

“Prophecies? How intriguing. Prophecies about dragons?”.
“Not about dragons in particular, nor that I remember. I have to admit I am not well versed in those, my lady. I read about the red comet’s meaning in the great chronicle of…”-
“I frankly do not care. Archmaester Ollidare, you have mentioned prophecies with a red comet. Can you tell me about them? Or show me where I can read about them?”.
Visenya was being more than suspicious and not at all subtle. She was so anxious expecting his answer that she was gripping her sword so hard her knuckles were turning white.
“I… I… I do know about a prophecy written in the unknown east. About a hero’s birth marked by a red comet. I do not remember any dragon…”.
“I need to read it. Now”.

“Lady Visenya!”.
Suddenly Lord Hightower was approaching them with his stupid smile on, interrupting as usual.
“I need that prophecy. Archmaester, do not tell anyone. You do not understand the importance of it”. Ollidare seemed confused and terrified. 
Good, Visenya thought, that’s what the situation required.
“My lady…”.
“A red comet and a saviour born amidst ash and fire. A night that never ends. Does it sound familiar?”. His face told her everything she needed.

“Lady Visenya. We must leave now, it is getting late”
Aegon approached them as well. Her husband understood immediately something was happening, they needed to move, quickly.
“Wait, lord Hightower, perhaps my wife would want to take a final look around the Citadel”.
“Yes. Yes, I would love that”. Visenya held Aegon’s hand just like she was holding Dark Sister mere minutes ago.
“I am so deeply sorry but it is late. We must go. It would not be safe for a lady to roam the streets after dark”.
“You can tell that to any other lady. No need to worry about me” Visenya was forcing a smile on her face trying to soften her words. 

But Lord Hightower should pray to his gods to give her patience, otherwise she would give him a taste of his strength.

“My lady, I am afraid you are already taking advantage of our invitation. We have work to get back to. We are not here to entertain”.  
It was the same archmaester that had received them the previous day. He spoke with the same condescending tone and his lustful eyes had no change.
“My lady, it is better if you leave so we can return to our studies. There is constant movement at the citadel but we will remember your visit like a beautiful comet illuminating the sky. We will see each other pretty soon, I am sure of that”.
There was something in Archmaester Ollidare’s words, a hidden message Visenya failed to see but she knew it was there. Like smoke slipping from her fingers.

It rained that night. Again.
If it was that dark in the Reach, Visenya could only imagine how sweet it would feel in Dragonstone. She felt a sharp pain of nostalgia in her heart.
“Ēza issare iā tubis, yet ziry feels hae iā ābrar”.  (It has been but a mere month, yet it feels like a lifetime).
She whispered. Her husband smiled, raising his sight slightly from his maps. He had come back to them immediately after attending his duties with his wife, like he did every night.

“Sīr se mele comet, ziry means mirros” (So the red comet, it means something). Visenya nodded, disappointed with herself for not being able to manage to get her hands on it.
"Issa sȳz udir, syt ziry means mirri skoriot iā explanation syt mirrī hen bisa madness”.
(It is good news, for it means somewhere exists an explanation for a bit of this madness).
“Se issa tolmiot qrīdrughagon hen īlva” (And it is far away from us).

She was furious. She could not stop thinking she should have just taken her dragon there. Get the books. Burn down The Citadel.

What a beautiful dream.

“For now, mandia . For now”.

There was a timid knock at the door. It was Prudence. She was dressed in her undergarments and had a clear sleepy face.
“My lady? I am terribly sorry but there is a maester here” she was whispering.
Archmaester Ollidare’s face showed up behind the girl.
Visenya could not believe what has happening in front of her  and for her husband’s wide opened eyes she knew he felt the same way.
“What in the world are you doing here?”.
“I brought the books”.

Aegon made the first move to let Prudence get him in. The girl nodded and stepped aside.
The old man was soaked from the rain and carried a heavy thick book and a scroll hidden in his robes.
“He sneaked through the servant’s door. One of the cooks woke me up when he started asking about you, my lady”. Smart little girl she was. Visenya was happy to have her around.
“I said you needed some help with a delicate matter and that Lord Hightower was not to be awakened for it was related to your monthly bleeding”.
“Thank you, archmaester. You put yourself in danger for this” Aegon offered one of his chairs, pushing his maps aside to let him some space on the table.
“Prudence, stay at the door, if anyone approaches, warn us”.
“Yes, my lady”.

The old man sat down trying to make sense of his own thoughts. Visenya could not stop looking back and forth from him and his brother. Extremely worried that she would say the wrong thing or rush him and seemed ungrateful.
“My sister told me you knew of some stories, a prophecy that could make sense with our leads”.
“Those leads… are they dreams, my lord?”
“That is not of your concern”.
“Mandia…”.
That was it, for Aegon’s concerning tone she knew she had already gone too far.
“I guess not. I guess it does not change the outcome” The archmaester whispered. “There’s a prophecy about a hero born from smoke and salt with a red comet marking his birth, that will triumph over darkness and bring a summer that will never end. Making death itself to bend the knee. I... I want to help you, for if you have the key to solve a great mystery like this, I need to be help in some way”.

Visenya stopped breathing for a moment.
Death itself, just as her brother had explained.

“But anyway, there are several stories surrounding this myth but it is always the same core. It is believed the original name for this hero was Azor Ahai. The first texts we found of him are in old Valyrian” He approached the book to Visenya, with a page opened, in it a woman with a flaming sword deep into her breasts was shown. “You will probably translate it better than me, my lady”.
Visenya found herself shaking all of a sudden. She felt stupid, acting like a little girl.

She took the book in her hands. The image was terribly disturbing for her. There was something about the woman's face of terror that made her shiver.

“During the age of darkness, after the Blood betrayal, a great hero emerged from the smoke and salt, Azor Ahai. He had a bleeding star marking his path but he needed more strength than guidance.
He wished to forge a hero's sword, so he laboured for thirty days and thirty nights at the sacred fires of the temple until it was done.
However, when he went to temper it in water, the sword broke into seven thousand pieces. He was not one to give up easily, so he started over.
Azor Ahai took fifty days and fifty nights to make another sword better than the first.
To temper it this time, he captured a lion and drove the sword into its heart, but once more the steel shattered.
The third time, with a heavy heart, for he knew beforehand what he must do to finish the blade, Azor Ahai worked for a hundred days and nights until it was finished.
This time, he called for his wife, Nissa Nissa , and asked her to bare her breast.

Nissa Nissa, bare your breast, and know that I love you best of all that is in this world .

She died with a smile on her beautiful face and the sword in one piece deep into her heart…”

Visenya was terrified. She would never admit it but she was.

A mighty hero that conquers death by killing his wife.
Extremely convenient to read that when she just got married.

“Qilōni gaomagon ao pendagon issa nūmāzma” (Who do you think this is about).
Her voice failed her for a second. 
“Daor īlva. Mirre hen ñuha dreams sia nūmāzma īlva” (Not us. None of my dreams were about us).
Visenya felt that she could breathe again. He was right. No mention of them. Their dreams did not fit with them. 

They were the seeds, the flowers will come later…
They were the seeds.
They were the seeds, not the flowers.

Because if they were, would she let Aegon kill her to save the world?.

Would she smile as he drew Blackfyre deep in her chest? Or would she fight back?.
Was she a seed or the dearest Nissa Nissa?.

“How did he know what he had to do? It says that he immediately knew he had to kill her. Why?”. 

Was it a dream? That’s what she truly wanted to ask. But she did not dare to show her worry to her brother.

“I do not know, my lady. It is a myth, after all. We cannot have a detailed chronic” the archmaester seemed worried for her. He felt her pain and if a stranger did, there was no way in the seven hells that Aegon did not know her worries.
“Issa gīda qilōni iksis Azōr Ahaī isse ñuha dreams.  Mēre hen tolie lanta ēza naejot sagon nissa nissa” (It is clear who Azor Ahai is in my dreams. One of the other two has to be Nissa Nissa).
“Yn konīr iksis hāre hen zirȳ.  Skoros gaomas ziry nūmāzma?”.
(But there are three of them. What does it mean).
“I do not know. I do not understand myself, Visenya”.

She did not like when he called her name. She was wife or sister. 
Visenya in his lips sounded like he was tired of her.

“The prophecy might not be accurate, my lord. After all, it is a myth. Many other things can come into play”.
“What is the other book you brought?”.

The Archmaester opened his mouth but had no time to speak, for Prudence entered the room in a rush.
“My lady! Someone is coming! I think it is Lord Hightower and Lord Redwyne”.
“For the seven. They must have found out that I am here”.

Visenya and Aegon crossed one look and they both knew they had to start a good act otherwise no more information of the Citadel for them.
“Prudence, bring me the chamber pot. Archmaester, pretend you are taking my pulse, you are here to take care of my health, remember?”.
She quickly sat down on the bed, taking the pot between her hands, pretending to be throwing up on it. 
Aegon held her hair, caressing it softly. If they were not so worried by their performance, it would have been a tender image. Him caring so kindly of her.

“Lady Visenya, Lord Aegon. We need to speak with you immediately”.
The dragon lady signalled to her companion to intervene and returned to her mimic. Screaming into the pot.
“I am so sorry, my lords. Lady Visenya is unwell, so we needed to call a maester. She needs privacy and rest”.

She could see in the corner of her eye the two men trying to see what was happening inside the room.
“You should have woken me up. I would have helped”. Poor Lord Redwyne sounded genuinely concerned. “I am sorry, Lady Celtigar but we need to speak with at least one of them. A Raven arrived from Dragonstone”.

Black wings. Black words.

Visenya’s whole skin turned into goosebumps. What if something grave had happened?

Oh Rhaenys. Her baby. Her dearest one.
What if she was in pain?.

Aegon must have thought the same because he rushed to the door.
“My sister is ill. Please, do not disturb her. You can tell me. Who has written from our home?”.
“I am so sorry to inform you of this, Lord Aegon. I am sure these are the news you never wanted to hear but… Your lord father wrote to inform you of your beloved lady mother’s passing. My deepest condolences.”

No.
No. She must have misheard it.

She threw the chamber pot to the floor, moving so fast she almost knocked the Archmaester.
“Did you just say my mother is dead?”.
Visenya put her arms around Aegon. He was shaking. She feared he would collapse at any moment.

Muña.  Pōja jorrāelagon muña.
Mother. Their dearest mother.

“That is… that’s what your father says in his letter” Lord Redwyne was terribly confused to see her standing there after pretending to be dying. “There’s been an accident of some kind… your mother has been sick for a few weeks after it and finally succumbed to her wounds this past…”.

“She was agonising in bed and no one told us?” Visenya felt the tears burning in her eyes.
She could not be weak, not with her brother in that state.
He held her hands, she knew he wouldn't hold much longer. He was going to lose himself at any moment. And so was she.
“I am so sorry, we do not have any other news. Only that he asks for your return and that she will be... was buried in Driftmark two days after this letter was written…”
Aegon snapped, ripping the paper from Lord Redwyne’s hands.
“Thank you, for informing us” his voice was barely a sound “Please Prudence, show the maester outside and pay him for his service. We will talk again at another time. Lord Redwyne, we will take our grandfather's ship back home in a few hours when we pack. Please warn the servants”.
“No need for payment. I have leave you a copy of the… medical advice I brought, I need to take the originals back where they belong. Take care of it. We will speak soon. I will send a raven” the archmaester stopped at the door looking at them. “I am truly sorry for your loss”.

“So are we”.

Aegon closed the door leaving them both alone.
That’s how they felt alone in the world.

Muña. Pōja jorrāelagon muña morghe.
Mother. Their dearest mother dead.

Chapter Text

“What a beautiful ship your grandfather sent” her mother and her were standing in the docks of Dragonstone, waving goodbye silently.Her mother had a warm smile on her face. She was beaming with pride. 

Of pride for her siblings. Not her.“I want to travel on a ship too” Rhaenys sounded like a little brat and she was well aware but sometimes she should be allowed to do so.She was ten and five after all. She was a child and everyone reminded her so. She was going to act as such.“You will, my love. One day, maybe for your wedding journey too”.Rhaenys did not dare to say anything at that moment. Not with her father present.

She felt he did not like her. It was a strange feeling, for every parent should love and care for their child unconditionally.She would love her children. She knew that. She promised herself that no child of her would feel that emptiness she had when looking at her father.
“Qilōni kessa nyke dīnagon, muña” (Who will I marry, mother).

“Gaoman daor gīmigon.  iā issaros sȳz, iā issaros qilōni jorrāelagon ao”. (I do not know. Someone kind, someone who loves you).
Who was going to love her more than her siblings? More than her Visenya and her Aegon?. “Iksā iēdrosa iā riña, gaomā daor emagon naejot nūmāzma ziry, ñuha byka mēre”.
(You are still a child, you do not have to worry about it, my little one).
A baby without a marriage, without a ship and without a dragon. 

Her mother was brushing and braiding her hair for the night. It seemed that Rhaenys’s hair got longer each day, to the point that she could only sleep if it was well tight.
But she refused to cut it. She felt free living like that, like those wild dothraki horses she read about.
“I do not like to be a child”.

“You will miss it one day”. Her mother spoke nonsense. 

What could she possibly miss about being left out? What was to lose about gaining some regency of her own?

“Skoros lo jī va iā journey? ao se nyke” (What if we go on a journey? You and I).
Rhaenys’s face light up when thinking about it.
Yes, she had to stand her mother nagging her about the smallest things, as usual.
But how beautiful would it be to explore the world with her.
Valaena sighed, smiling tenderly. 

She was a stunning woman for her age. She was not old by any means but she had  wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Signs of wisdom and experience, Valaena often said.
Rhaenys wondered if she too would be as ravishing when she got to her age.

“Ñuha jorrāelagon, īlon daor henujagon aōha kepa mērī kesīr lēda aōha dubys.  Visenya  zirȳla naejot aōha zaldrīze s”.
(My love, we cannot leave your father alone here with your siblings. Visenya would probably feed him to her dragon).

That was very true. And Rhaenys knew it well.

“I am going to be ancient by the time I am allowed to leave this island! I will probably have grandchildren!”.
The girl threw herself dramatically onto her bed, making her mother laugh uncontrollably.

“Oh ñuha byka jorrāelagon. Skorkydoso olvie kirimves ao maghagon nyke”.
(Oh my little love. How much joy you bring me).
“Iksis ziry sȳz naejot sagon iā muña?” (Is it good to be a mother?).

If marriage seemed far away from her, motherhood was a completely different world she was not prepared for.

Rhaenys knew Visenya was going to be a mother soon. She was sure because her Vhagar was nesting and that nasty angry dragon rarely let anyone mating her.
But dragons and dragonriders have a special connection that trascent every human explanation. Rhaenys might not have a dragon but she was sure of that. 
She had no clue what that meant. Their mother made it look so easy but was it enjoyable? Did she really love to braid her hair every night, running around them all day trying to keep them
safe.

It sounded stressful to say the least.

“What do you mean, byka mēre ” (little one).
“I mean… Do you like it? You say I bring you joy but I must be difficult, all children seem complicated. You probably do not have time to go to the beach or to buy new dresses or to play with bards…”.

Those things seemed very important to Rhaenys. They made her extremely happy, almost as much as running with the wild dragons.
Her mother laughed again, hugging her tightly. The child let her head fall in her mother’s lap. It felt so good. She was sure that’s how a cloud felt. So comfortable and warm.
Just pure love.

“Nyke jorrāelagon issare iā muña yn olvie important, nyke jorrāelagon issare aōha muña, ñuha zaldrītsos.  Aōhon se aōha dubys”.
(I love being a mother but most importantly, I love being your mother, my little dragon. Yours and your siblings).

Chapter Text

A month before in Dragonstone.

Rhaenys saw her siblings leave. Filled with sadness and a pinch of jealousy.

Take me with you. She wanted to scream. I want to visit these strange lands and have adventures too.
But she was too young.

And she was not the one married.

She did not want to admit it but she had been fearful since their marriage was announced. What did it mean for her? In what place did it leave her?.
It had always been the three of them but marriage seemed like a little secret only her siblings had.

“What a beautiful ship your grandfather sent” her mother and her were standing in the docks of Dragonstone, waving goodbye silently.

Her mother had a warm smile on her face. She was beaming with pride. 

Of pride for her siblings. Not her.
“I want to travel on a ship too” Rhaenys sounded like a little brat and she was well aware but sometimes she should be allowed to do so.
She was ten and five after all. She was a child and everyone reminded her so. She was going to act as such.

“You will, my love. One day, maybe for your wedding journey too”.

Rhaenys did not dare to say anything at that moment. Not with her father present.

She felt he did not like her. It was a strange feeling, for every parent should love and care for their child unconditionally.
She would love her children. She knew that. She promised herself that no child of her would feel that emptiness she had when looking at her father.

“Qilōni kessa nyke dīnagon, muña” (Who will I marry, mother).
“Gaoman daor gīmigon.  iā issaros sȳz, iā issaros qilōni jorrāelagon ao”.
(I do not know. Someone kind, someone who loves you).

Who was going to love her more than her siblings? More than her Visenya and her Aegon?.

“Iksā iēdrosa iā riña, gaomā daor emagon naejot nūmāzma ziry, ñuha byka mēre”.
(You are still a child, you do not have to worry about it, my little one).
A baby without a marriage, without a ship and without a dragon. 
Her mother was brushing and braiding her hair for the night. It seemed that Rhaenys’s hair got longer each day, to the point that she could only sleep if it was well tight.

But she refused to cut it. She felt free living like that, like those wild dothraki horses she read about.
“I do not like to be a child”.
“You will miss it one day”.

Her mother spoke nonsense. 

What could she possibly miss about being left out? What was to lose about gaining some regency of her own?
“Skoros lo jī va iā journey? ao se nyke” (What if we go on a journey? You and I).
Rhaenys’s face light up when thinking about it.

Yes, she had to stand her mother nagging her about the smallest things, as usual.

But how beautiful would it be to explore the world with her.
Valaena sighed, smiling tenderly. 

She was a stunning woman for her age. She was not old by any means but she had  wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Signs of wisdom and experience, Valaena often said.
Rhaenys wondered if she too would be as ravishing when she got to her age.

“ Ñuha jorrāelagon, īlon daor henujagon aōha kepa mērī kesīr lēda aōha dubys.  Visenya  zirȳla naejot aōha zaldrīze s”.
(My love, we cannot leave your father alone here with your siblings. Visenya would probably feed him to her dragon).

That was very true. 

And Rhaenys knew it well.

“I am going to be ancient by the time I am allowed to leave this island! I will probably have grandchildren!”.
The girl threw herself dramatically onto her bed, making her mother laugh uncontrollably. “Oh ñuha byka jorrāelagon. Skorkydoso olvie kirimves ao maghagon nyke”.
(Oh my little love. How much joy you bring me) .

“Iksis ziry sȳz naejot sagon iā muña?” (Is it good to be a mother?).
If marriage seemed far away from her, motherhood was a completely different world she was not prepared for.

Rhaenys knew Visenya was going to be a mother soon. She was sure because her Vhagar was nesting and that nasty angry dragon rarely let anyone mating her.
And dragons and dragonriders have a special connection that trascent every human explanation. Rhaenys might not have a dragon but she was sure of that. 

She had no clue what motherhood meant. Their mother made it look so easy but was it enjoyable? Did she really love to braid her hair every night, running around them all day trying to keep them safe.

It sounded stressful to say the least.

“What do you mean, byka mēre ” (little one).  
“I mean… Do you like it? You say I bring you joy but I must be difficult, all children seem complicated. You probably do not have time to go to the beach or to buy new dresses or to play with bards…”.

Those things seemed very important to Rhaenys. They made her extremely happy, almost as much as running with the wild dragons.
Her mother laughed again, hugging her tightly. The child let her head fall in her mother’s lap. It felt so good. She was sure that’s how a cloud felt. So comfortable and warm.
Just pure love.
“Nyke jorrāelagon issare iā muña yn olvie important, nyke jorrāelagon issare aōha muña, ñuha zaldrītsos.  Aōhon se aōha dubys”.
(I love being a mother but most importantly, I love being your mother, my little dragon. Yours and your siblings).

The next morning Rhaenys decided to set a new goal for herself. She was going to tame a dragon and become a dragon rider before her siblings came back from the Reach.
She was so excited she could not think of anything else while breaking fast.
Her septa kept talking and talking but her mind was far away, on dragon back, visiting the West.
“What do you think is a good name for a dragon?” She asked her mother all of a sudden.
Her father never broke fast with them but that did not meant they could speak freely, for he septa would tell his lordship every single detail of what had happened.

Rhaenys needed to keep her plan a secret.

“What foolness are you speaking now?”.
“It is okay, septa Margol. The child has a curious nature”. Her mother was always there to rescue her. She was her knight of shining armour. Better than any of the myths. “Traditionally dragons have received names of our gods from old Valyria”.

Ah yes, gods. That made sense. Rhaenys thought.

Aegon had Balerion, god of death. Terribly lugubrious for her good brother.

Visenya had Vhagar, god of war. Very appropriate. 

Who could she possibly have?.

Arrax? Father of the gods. God of order and justice.

No. It reminded her too much of her own progenitor.

Syrax? Goddess of madness and lust. 

Too violent and not in a good way.

Vermax? Protector of the artists and the travellers.

That would fit her so well. How lovely it would be to have that mighty god by his side.

But she had to pick a dragon first. She would know their name just by looking at their eyes. She was sure of it.

Vhagar and Balerion had come from old Valyria, their names written alongside the noble history of their house.
Daenys the Dreamer was Balerion's first rider. Rhaenys wondered why such a fair lady would use that terrible name.

Maybe she also saw that in her dreams. Maybe death always accompanied her in many ways.

But for the rest of the dragons living on the island, she was free to name them as she wanted.

She had her eyes set on a couple ones. Ideally she would want one of Vhagar’s cubs but they were still hidden inside their little eggs and only the gods knew when they were going to get out.

Dragons were temperamental, you could not predict when they were going to do absolutely anything, including birth. She could only hope and wait till the fire called for them.

There were several wild dragons she could try on although they were adults, which meant they were at least eighty times her size, if Rhaenys’s calculus were correct, which probably were not. She was extremely talented in many areas but she had to admit she preferred to ignore it when her septa started talking about numbers.

There was nothing worse in her eyes than a boring septa and a boring class.

Maybe just her father.

Rhaneys was going to plan this carefully. She had been reckless, that’s what her sister said every day. Maybe that was the reason why she could not get a dragon, maybe there was nothing truly wrong with her.

Sometimes she felt like that. She must be broken, for what was the reason the gods had not chosen her. Why did they only look with kindness to her siblings?
She decided to make a study, she would write down a detailed description of all the wild dragons in the island, their abilities and their nests so she could make a decision based on evidence.

Her patient lasted a total of two days. Which were two more days than what her mother had expected when she heard of the plan.

Rhaenys planned to keep it a secret but the moment Valaena asked a couple of questions she proudly presented her disastrous organisation.
By mid week she had grown restless and her mind was running wild.

She loved to climb mountains as a child or trees when she visited Driftmark, for there were not many in her dear Dragonstone.
Rhaenys used those skills to find the top of their nests. Dragons preferred to lay eggs inside the volcanoes but once they grew they craved for freedom, it could be easy to see two or more resting near cliffs, surrounded by warm rocks.

She could climb on top of those, just as she did as a child and jump on top of the dragons.

A perfect plan in her mind.

“You are going to open your head like an egg! Scrambled brains to break fasts or perhaps boiled if the dragons feel like it”.

On the fifth day of her siblings' absence, she was found by one of her maids wounded on the northern beach after trying to get too far up the stones. She slipped and fell, rolling down like a pathetic ball.

The gods showed all the mercy they had that day because, for anyone else, that was an instant death.
“Muña, please, I am very close”.
“Close to what?! To death?! Yes, on that I unfortunately must agree”.

Maester Kerran was taking care of her injuries, she needed stitches on her left cheek, which was going to leave a scar no doubt.
Rhaenys did not mind, it would make her look dangerous like the pirates her grandfather battled in the Stepstones.
But if Maester Kerran was there, it meant for sure her father was going to hear about it.

“If I must trade my life to be a dragon rider, so shall be. I would die a sweet death if I fell from the sky hearing the dragon’s wings moving the wind behind me”.
“You are a child and you are speaking nonsense. There is nothing like a sweet death, those two words are not companions of each other”.

Her mother did not understand her and it seemed she did not make an effort to do so.
“My lady, your lady mother is right…”
“Thank you maester. Unfortunately for you, you are not invited in our conversation”.
“Rhaenys!”.

She was done with her mother, with Kerran and her damned luck.
She only wished to be far away, to be a different person.

The worst part is that she did not find comfort in her siblings.

The first letter arrived a week later, when the happy couple finally found her way to the Arbor. Their mother had told them in advance everything that had happened with her.

How did she manage to do it? No idea but her mother’s raven had flown faster than the tides and any of her grandfather’s ships.

“My dearest and most beloved sister, words cannot describe how much we miss you in our journey”.
Rhaenys read Visenya’s letter at night, hiding beneath her sheets. She felt she needed to hear those words alone.

“You would love it, we could see Dorne from the distance of our ship and we will soon visit Oldtown. I will be sure to write down every little detail and send it to you as soon as I can”.
If she had to be honest, Rhaenys was not sure if she wanted that.
She had been living through books and other people’s words for fifteen years.
She wanted to stop reading. She wanted to see.

“I hope to read how my Vhagar is doing. Have her eggs hatched yet? And most important, have you decided now how you prefer to die? If I may suggest, the southern mountains are bathed by sunlight all day long, I think it would be much more comfortable when you are lying there half dead covered in blood”.
There it was. Speaking just like her mother.
She was expecting more understanding, especially from Visenya.

A tear ran through her cheek. She felt stupid for a second. Crying like a babe. 

But she missed her siblings, more than any adventure or any dragons. She missed Visenya’s touch and Aegon’s laugh.
And in return she got a reprimand.

The mountains were bathed by the sunlight, she said. Rhaenys had not even realised, for without Aegon she had no more sun and without Visenya the moon did not come out at night.

She was so miserable, all alone on their little island. Each day it felt smaller and smaller.
It was suffocating her.

She threw the letter to her bed and decided to leave for a walk. There was another one signed by Aegon but she did not dare to read it. 

Visenya usually backed her up in her endeavours, her brother was much more cautious with everything that surrounded her, especially whatever plans she came up with.
Only the gods knew what Aegon had written but Rhaenys knew it was nothing good for her.

“Cousin, do you want me to bring you something to sleep? Warm milk perhaps?”.
Her sister Visenya had left one of her ladies in waiting, their cousin Naerys. It was about time for Visenya to have her own companions. She could not be under the supervision of a septa her entire life, nor did she wish to.
“Thank you, cousin but I am going to go for a walk. I need to clear my mind”.
Naerys looked concerned. Rhaenys had to admit she felt comforted by her presence in many ways, especially because her Velaryon features were extremely prominent. She looked like a young version of her lady mother in many ways.
When she looked at her with those kind blue eyes, she felt like talking to Velaena.
“I am afraid it is too late for that. It is dark and cold outside, it is not safe”.
“I appreciate your concerns and I do love you for it, dear cousin. But I am suffocating here”.  
“I understand but you are still injured, let me at least go with you and take one of the guardians or perhaps two”.

Rhaenys agreed for some reason, maybe so she could shut up once and for all. 

Naerys opened the door of the chambers to their surprise Sir Orys was standing right there like a statue protecting the way to the hallway.
“Do not tell me my mother has sent you to spy on me”. Rhaenys was getting exasperated. Too many eyes looking at her.
“My lady” Sir Orys bowed respectfully.

Rhaenys had always seen him as his brother's shadow. First of all because they did not go anywhere without each other and second because both men looked eerily familiar.

Orys was the dark version of Aegon. Just like a shadow would be.

He might have had dark eyes, dark hair and even darker skin than Aegon’s but there was something on his looks that told Rhaenys they were bonded by more than friendship.
“His lordship has said he wrote to you explaining all of this. After the accident you had suffered he explicitly commanded me in his last letter to protect you and he appointed me as your sworn guard until his return”.
Of course he had. Rhaenys could not even get mad at his brother for there was something sweet about the whole thing. She knew Aegon trusted very few people and one of them was Sir Orys, of that she had no doubt. The young girl was sure there was no other in the East nor the West that her brother would trust with his sister’s safety
“Well… fair enough. I feel unwell, I am going to go for a walk”.
“If you are unwell, then you must rest, my lady”.
“Do not dare to command me around, Sir. I tolerate it from my mother and siblings for I have no other choice but not from you”.  She tried to sound as much of a grown up as possible. She wished for the voice of Visenya to possess her.
“Of course, my lady, I would never do such a thing. But I have to honour your brother’s wishes''.
“I hardly believe that Aegon wants for me to be a prisoner in my own home”.
“No, my lady but…”.
“You can come with us. My cousin was going to search for a guard anyway, so your presence is fitting Sir Orys”.

The man seemed a bit defeated. It made Rhaenys feel so powerful, now she understood why Visenya liked to command people around, especially men.

It felt extremely good seeing grown men quivering in their presence.

The dragons were all hiding inside the mountain or maybe they had left for the night.

The sky was pitch black, a clear sign of rain.

She felt alive outside with the cold wind that sang of storms. The frozen sand behind her feet and the numbing water coming from the Narrow Sea.
“My lady, please take a blanket or some sort of cover”. Sir Orys was freezing his ass and he was extremely embarrassed, it was clear in the way he tried to avoid any type of eye contact.
“I am sure you have seen women in their nightgowns before”.
Rhaenys knew he could see her figure in the moonlight. She was beautiful, her sister told repeatedly. She wished for Aegon to also tell her that more often.
“It is not proper and it is not safe, you are weak from your injuries you could get an illness, my lady”.
Her cousin was even more pushing than her new knight and she was having a worse time than Orys dealing with the weather. She had to admit her sister Visenya was not a person who enjoyed the outdoors during the months of cold, so she did not blame Naerys for not being used to it.
“Fine, could you please bring me whatever you think is proper?” Rhaenys had to fight every inch of her body to not roll her eyes at her lady in waiting.

The girl nodded and left, extremely happy to get a bit of warmth, her mistress was sure of it.

“It is going to rain, we all should leave, my lady”.
“Let it rain, Sir Orys. Let it rain on me and wash my body, it would make you blush even more”. 

Visenya had told her before leaving that she needed to learn how to use her female charms to be even more powerful than she could even imagine.
She had spied on her siblings, when they thought they were alone. She has seen what Visenya was able to do with Aegon, hidden between curtains like a thief in the night.

Rhaenys wanted to be like her, in every way she could.

Orys took a deep breath. He seemed to be thinking what to say, that was strange he never seemed to doubt his words.
“My lady, I do not blush while watching a woman's body. You are my lord’s younger sister, it is not proper, that is all” he took a step forward in the sand. He looked intimidating for a moment.
You are the blood of the dragon, Rhaneys told herself, a man is not going to make you shiver in fear.
“If I may speak with honesty, my lady, I know many ways of making you blush but alas you are my lord’s sister, so put on a blanket and let us go back inside”.

For all the gods, she was not expecting that.

Rhaenys felt that familiar feeling of desire burning inside. It was not as strong as when she saw Aegon and Visenya together. But he did look similar to her brother with darker stronger features, he intrigued her.

There were a few things from the forbidden books she read, hidden from her mother, she could try with him.

A thunder abruptly interrupted their conversation and with it the cry of a dragon in the horizon, the first one she heard all night.

It sounded different, angrier.

A second roar. Different tone. Different dragon.

“It comes from the nests” A fight near the cubs. Near Vhagar’s eggs. 
Rhaenys did not think it twice, she started walking to get to the top of the mountain.
“My lady, it is not wise…”.
“We talked about commanding me before, Sir Orys”.
“I am not commanding you, my lady but dragons are not safe, they are not puppies you can separate when they fight”.

That angered Rhaenys beyond words. She could feel herself shaken with rage. If she could she was sure she would push him to the sea and let him drown in that moment. 

How in the seven hells he dared tell her, a pure blood Targaryen, what dragons are.
Had he lost his mind?

“Sir Orys, go back to the fortress and leave me to this. It is an order and a warning”.
“My lady…”.
“I will not say it again. Be grateful I do not tell this trespassing to my sister”.
“I do not understand what my wrongdoing was”.

Rhaenys looked at him, all of him.

She had heard the rumours of course. Servants spoke a bit too loud for her taste. Jesters sang satirical songs about it.

Him looking like her brother was not a coincidence.

Sir Orys was a bastard. His surname, or lack of, made it evident and his Targaryen features told the rest of the story.

“Of course you do not understand how hurtful and insulting your words are. Explaining to me what dragons are, comparing them to puppies. I am the blood of Old Valyria, I was born a dragonrider. You, Sir Orys, would never comprehend what that is. How could you possibly do”. 
That struck a nerve with him. She could tell and she was glad. As Visenya said, sometimes you have to be tough, stand for yourself and especially stand for your house.
“Do not follow me, go to the fortress, this is the last time I warn you”.

By the time she reached the nests, it was raining heavily. The cold water was clinging into her skin like pure snow covering her, freezing her to the marrow.

The scene was terrifying.
A young dragon was trying to enter the cave. She had never seen it before. It was pure white, with a silver shimmer that made it look regal. It could not be too grown, it was not much bigger than her. It was a year old, perhaps two. It seemed lost and afraid. The poor thing was probably trying to get home after a long day, perhaps it was its first time getting out to explore.

Vhagar was blocking its entrance, in all her glory, fangs out and ready to snap its neck. Rhaenys could not blame her, she was in a delicate situation, her eggs were ready to hatch at any moment and it could be a danger for them.
“ Vhagar, gīda ilagon ” (Vhagar, calm down). 

Rhaenys had to raise her voice to be heard over the thunder and the rumbling of the rain.
She reached the tiny dragon. It was a female and she was terrified.

The she-dragon had a tiny body but her wings were hinting to become extremely big. She held all her weight on her back two legs, without her wings supporting her to the ground.

Like a chicken, Rhaenys could not help to think.

“ Issa okay byka mēre. Gaomagon daor sagon zūgagon ”. (It is okay little one. Do not be afraid).
Rhaenys spoke to her like her mother used to do with ehr. The dragon ran to her, trying to hide behind the girl. Rhaenys immediately felt a connection with her, an unspeakable bond. Like a mother to a child.

Vhagar tried to roar at her one more time.

“Oh shut up, you old hag”. Rhaenys had enough of her for the night. “ Māzigon, rūs.  Ivestragī's ao shelter se kostilus mirros naejot ipradagon” (Come, baby. Let’s find shelter for you and perhaps something to eat).
She offered her hand, the dragon looked at it, cautious at first but immediately let her caress her. She wanted to be pampered and cared for that made Rhaenys smile. She could relate to that.

All of a sudden a third dragon appeared, falling from the sky like a lightning streak. Rhaenys recognized him, he was a violent male, Aegon had tried to keep him out of the island for months. His brother had seen him eating other dragon’s eggs, feasting on them with cruelty.

Now that Aegon was gone, so was Balerion and without him the island was left without his biggest dragon. This one clearly wanted to take that spot for himself.
Balerion was much like his rider. Temperamental and secretive. He liked to keep it to himself and spent more time in gods known where instead than the island.

Some rocks fell from his landing, hitting Vhagar. The she-dragon yielded in rage. A fight was sure to break.
He was most probably the reason why Vhagar was losing her mind. Not Rhaenys’ poor baby.

They had to get out of it before the first dragon’s flame caught fire.
“ Kostagon ao sōvegon isse se daomio? Sōvegon? Issi ao ēdrugī ?” (Can you fly in the rain? Fly? Are you tired?).
Her new dragon had no time to do anything more than move to the side in fear, for the other two elders had started a fierce battle against each other, teeth and blood flying everywhere.
She felt incredibly guilty, her sister had put her in charge of Vhagar’s safety and she was running away.
But there was nothing she could do, unless she sacrificed her new dragon’s life and she was not ready to compromise.
“The eggs…” she whispered.

If the male dragon killed Vhagar or injured her enough to leave the nest unguarded, it was over for them.
“ Ao jorrāelagon naejot. JIKAGON. Find mirri dīnagon ȳgha” (You need to. GO. Find some place safe).

She sneaked into the cave between the dragons’ paws. She could hear her new dragon wailing in the distance and could only pray in silence for her to find comfort and shelter soon.
She barely missed being crushed by one of them, she could not even tell which one was. She was soaked, tired and afraid but the high adrenaline of her duties drove her.

But as she was entering the dark nest, she was hit by something, a tail she suspected. Rhaenys fell into the ground, hard. Face first. She tasted that familiar metallic flavour of blood in her mouth. She got up shaking.

“I am going to die” Rhaenys thought. “I need to get the eggs… then I am going to die”.
She could barely think. She felt a drumming noise inside her head.
The drums of death, she thought.
Rhaenys stumbled in the dark unsure of where to go. There were dragons in there, she could feel them, they were watching her closely, spying every movement she made to determine if she was a threat.
The deeper and deeper she went into the cave the more she seemed lost but she knew what to look for.

Heat. Warmth. Fire. 

The hotter it was, the closer she was to the eggs. That’s what dragons needed to have their cubs, that’s where they felt comfortable.

It was suffocating to the point that she was completely dry from the rain.

Rhaenys found a small opening in the cave, she had to enter on all fours, inside there was a weird looking rock. She knew dragon eggs were protected by volcanic rocks so it was difficult to differentiate them from any other common rocks. It was a perfect protection system. That rock looked like it did not belong there. It was darker than the rest and it looked too well placed.

It seemed reasonable Vhagar would hide her eggs there, especially with everything going on in the outside world and without Visenya there to help her.
Rhaenys needed to leave, quickly. She tried to take the rocks carelessly with her own bare hands.
It was burning her skin to the point of pain and it was so heavy she could barely move. 

Two steps outside the nest and she fell into the ground sobbing like a baby.

Oh how stupid and childish she felt. 

How could she think she was strong enough to do this task. 
That she could measure up to Visenya or Aegon.

She was a child and an idiot.

Now she was going to die, alone in that cave, watching the male dragon eat those eggs in front of her. Maybe he would eat her too.

She was bleeding practically everywhere and had blisters in her hands and arms.
She was going to be unrecognisable once they found her body.

Oh her poor mother. What was she going to say? Would she be able to keep living without her?.

“Muña, shijetra nyke” (Mother, forgive me). She whispered.
A tear fell through her cheek. Silent and full of grief for the life she could have and would never get.
She did not want to die alone but alas, there she was.

All of a sudden she saw a familiar eye. A golden dragon eye popping into the cave.
“ Rūs skoros issi ao doing kesīr?.  Nyke ivestretan ao naejot shelter ”. (Baby what are you doing here? I told you to find shelter).

The little one could barely fit her head inside the little space they had. Rhaenys hugged her dragon with desperation. 

Because she was hers. Even if she had met her that dreadful night, she was her dragon.
How ironic, she thought. She finally tamed a dragon the night she was going to die.

“ Rūs, iksā ānogrosa nehure… ” (Baby, you are bleeding…).
One of her wings was hanging for dear life. Bleeding almost as much as her.

“ Mijegindita run, ao kostilus emagon vīlībagon se rōva zaldrīzoti naejot jiōragon naejot nyke ”.
(Poor thing, you probably had to fight the big dragons to get to me).
The baby caressed her face with her own, he was rough and full of scales but for some reason, Rhaenys felt comforted.
“We are going to die, both of us, here, there’s no way I can get these eggs out without being eaten or burned alive”.
Maybe the rock was the problem. She just needed what was inside. 

With the last remaining forces she had, Rhaenys took a smaller rock and hit the wrap with it.

One time after the other. She felt herself starting to cry again.

The envelope was not breaking, not one inch.

Baby made a noise to call her attention. She seemed to be asking for permission to do something. Rhaenys stepped outside, leaving her dragon some room.

She threw a small flame, it was barely there. She was trying to burn the volcanic rock.
Her poor dragon. Trying to help her. She was too tired and too injured.

“ Byka mēre, umbagon. Gaomagon daor tire aōla.  Gīda ilagon.  Jelevre.  Rȳ se ūñagon hen hāre, īlon both kessa gaomagon ziry ”.
(Little one, wait. Do not tire yourself. Calm down. Breath. At the count of three, we both will do it).

She could not believe it but she found herself smiling. What a brave little dragon the gods have sent you.

There was no way they were going to be able to do it, she could only wait. Stay there and wait for the sweet relief of death.

“ Se īlon daor morghūljagon mijegon tepagon ao iā brōzi. Konir sagon olvie important ”.
(Also we cannot die without giving you a name. That is very important).
Baby rested her face on Rhaenys' neck. She could feel her heartbeat, it was strong, she was a strong dragon.

“ Gaomagon ao gīmigon qilōni Merakses iksis? ” (Do you know who Meraxes is?).  Rhaenys felt defeated but she had to be strong for her new baby.
“Meraxes is the daughter of the goddess of war Vhagar.
Vhagar was courted by Balerion, god of death. Every night he came, bearing gifts and blood in his hands. 

But her father Arrax did not allow for them to be wed, he forced her to marry Caraxes, god of peace, as a token of his love to humans who were the ones who suffered their anger the most.

When Meraxes was born, she became her parents pride and joy, she was named commander of the heavenly armies but soon she started coming every night to her mother, bearing gifts and blood in her hands.

It was clear Balerion was her father. 

So Arrax, filled with rage, banished her to her true father’s realm where she became a compassionate figure of sweet death, who carries the soul of the damned to their final form”.

Rhaenys burst into tears again. Her mother told her that story as a child, the same way she was doing to her baby now. 
And she was never going to see her dearest mother again. Nor her siblings. She was going to die with them on the other side of the world, without saying goodbye.

“ Bona issa jāre naejot sagon aōha brōzi. Merakses ” (That it is going to be your name. Meraxes).
Perhaps it was the loss of blood but she could swear her dragon was smiling at her.

Her Meraxes.

Rhaenys and Meraxes.

It fit beautifully.

All of a sudden, waking them up, she heard an extremely loud roar from outside. Louder than anything she had heard before but familiar anyway.

It was Balerion.

She was sure as the seven hells that it was him.

With Balerion in the fight, maybe they could escape.
“ Merakses, rȳbagon. Īlon henujagon se drōmon kesrio syt emi naejot safety. Emā naejot jiōragon giēñatan se find havor iā whatever ao jorrāelagon. 
Yn īlon jorrāelagon naejot jikagon. Sir”.
(Meraxes, listen. We are leaving the egg because we have to find safety first. You have to get your injuries treated and find food or whatever you need.
But we need to go. Now).

The dragons at the cave were agitated. Rhaenys was not sure how many there were and that made her nervous. So they did not have much time to scape.

The view outside was apocalyptic. It was still raining, it was even heavier than before with a wind as strong as the dragons’ fury. The battle between the three dragons was brutal. It felt like seeing the gods of Old Valyria fighting in front of her.

And clearly not meant for humans to mendel.

Balerion was the biggest beast she had seen in her lifetime and probably who anyone alive had ever seen. His fangs were as big as Rhaenys or maybe even as big as her brother. He was biting the wild male dragon hard with Vhagar attacking his stomach.

What a mighty team those two made.

“Rhaenys!” It was her mother’s voice.
Was she hallucinating? Was she finally dead?.
“Merakses nyke gīmigon iksā ōdrikagon yn nyke jorrāelagon ao naejot sylugon naejot sōvegon syt nyke”.
(Meraxes I know you are hurt but I need you to try to fly for me).
She needed to see what was going on behind the battle, if she truly was losing her mind or her mother had come for her.

With extreme difficulty she got on top of her dragon for the first time. In any other situation she would feel powerful, in that moment she just wanted to get home. Meraxes barely made it some feet above the ground flying with Rhaenys’ words of affirmation and encouragement.
The poor baby dragon made it high enough for Rhaenys to see her mother and some guards surrounding her.
Probably, Sir Orys had betrayed her and had called for them.

And she could not even begin to explain how thankful she was for that.

“Muña! Muña! I am here! We are alive! Muña!”.
The wind was too strong. Meraxes would not have been able to hold himself even with good weather. They fell hard against the ground. Rhaenys rolled a few metres into the rocks under the cold rain.

Her sight was blurry and she probably had something broken. At least a rib because she could not breath properly and probably her arm was damaged too, since she could not move it.

“Rhaenys!”. Her mother’s voice sounded closer to her.  How comforting that was. More soothing than any hot baths or medicine.
“Merakses. Issi ao okay?” (Meraxes. Are you okay?).
Her little baby barely moved behind her but seemed half alive. Which was the best thing she could ask for in that situation.

A legion of guards surrounded the dragons, trying to contain the situation which seemed almost impossible.
“Rhaenys! My love. I need a maester, right now!”. Her mother was coming closer to her. She was completely soaked, poor thing, still in her undergarments. She had been literally dragged out of the bed.
“Muña…” With her last remaining strength Rhaenys tried to reach her.

Her beloved mother.

She was safe.

She was home.

Everything was going to be alright. At last.

Vhagar roared with all her mighty power, calling Rhaenys’ attention. They had the wild male dragon pinned into the ground when he tried to fight back. He moved his tail in a circle, smashing most of the guards, making a mesh of blood and bodies. Vhagar moved, trying to avoid the dragon and taking flight. Flapping her wing, she made an even bigger masacre, taking with her whoever was left standing.

Including her poor mother.

Valaena Velaryon. The Lady of Dragonstone.

The dragon’s tail sent her flying into the air, falling from one of the cliffs into the beach below.

Rhaenys could not believe what she was seeing in front of her. 

She was the one who was supposed to die. Not her mother, she could not. She would not.

“ Muña !”. 

Rhaenys crawled into the ground. She could not walk. She could not stand on her own two feet but she needed to reach her mother just like her mother had done her entire life.
By the time she reached the cliff, the dragons had finished fighting and she did not have a single piece of skin of her body left untouched. She was full of cuts from the rocks below her and she was probably bleeding from places she did not even know existed.

“My lady” Sir Orys was behind her.
“My mother! My mother! Please! I am begging. You must help her” Rhaenys was hysterical. Her voice was a whisper from the injuries she had on her chest but it was filled with so much rage and sadness, probably the entire island could hear her.
“We need to get you home. You are severely injured”.
“My mother! Help her! I beg you, Sir Orys. I would do whatever they want. I will stay at home and study and marry someone boring but save her. Help her!”.
She could swear Orys was holding back tears while he picked her from the ground.
“The septas will get her. Do not worry, my lady. Now the maester must see you”.

The septas. The silent sisters.

She was dead.

Her mother was dead and it was all of her fault.

Rhaenys could not stop sobbing. It was her fault. 

She had her mother’s blood in her hands and now she had to explain it to her father and siblings.

What would her dear Visenya say?.

What would her beloved Aegon think?.

She was a murderer.

Worst.

She was a kinslayer.

Chapter Text

“My dearest grandchildren” The Lord of the tides welcomed them honestly with open arms. He seemed affected. It was only natural,  he had lost the only child he had left. Aegon could not even begin to imagine how it must have felt.

His mother had a younger brother who had passed away earlier last year, leaving behind two young sons. Even though House Velaryon was sure to continue with their cousins as heirs. It was an irreparable damage.

“Honourable Grandfather. My lord. My wife and I want to give you our sincere condolences. How is Lady Velaryon?”.
“There is no need to be this formal with your old grandfather” He laughed when he said so. It was a sad smile, filled with nostalgia and affection. “Your grandmother is… as expected. Our two children were claimed by the gods in such a short period of time, I think she might just need time”.
“Then time we will give her”. Visenya sounded sincere. She touched her belly when she spoke. It was barely a second but he saw, he could sense every one of her movements.

Aegon did not want to ask her but he suspected she was with child.
So soon. He thought.
What was the rush? It had been barely two months since the wedding.
But he would be happy if that was the case. He kept repeating that to himself.

At some point he would believe it.

“Sir Orys, it is a pleasure to see you again” Aegon had a sincere smile on his face.
The two brothers embraced and the young dragon felt like he should have never left his side. He wanted to cry on his shoulder until the tears ran dry but he could not afford that.
“It is good to finally have you at home, my lord”. He seemed worried. Aegon knew him well, he looked ashamed with his sight fixed on the ground below them.
"Where is our beloved sister? I left her to your good care”.
“And for what we know, he failed”. Aegon had to admit Visenya was right about that. Their sister was injured, they did not know the extent of the issue but it was something they had to revisit with detail, especially what relation it had to their mother’s demise.
“I’m afraid I have to agree with my wife. There’s a lot of explanation to be done. Not to mention, where is our lord father?”

Before he could reply, a terrifying shriek conquered the skies.

It was his Balerion, he knew him better than he knew himself.
A shadow was casted over them, it meant death for some but it was home for Aegon. 

Nothing in the world could compare to that. In that, his sister was absolutely right. Their blood called for dragon fire. They desperately needed it.
“He refused to come, he imagined that they would be there”.

“Iā Targārien zūgagon zaldrīzoti. Skoros iā mundagon” (A Targaryen scared of dragons. What a disgrace). Visenya was livid.
It definitely left a sour taste in their mouth. It felt unnatural.

Almost as fratricide in some strange way.

His ancestors would weep to see that their house was in the hands of such a man.
Balerion landed at the top of a nearby stack, looking menacing and even bigger than usual next to their grandfather’s ships.

“I know my lord father's disdain for dragons ran deep but it had never been to this point. What happened? Does this have to do with our mother’s death?”
“Perhaps it is better to enter the fortress so I can explain to both of you. There is no need to air our family matters to every living soul in this bloody island”.
Their grandfather was right. Aegon had to learn how to control his emotions better.
He looked back to his dragon. 

Oh how he wished to just jump on him and leave for a while. He did not need to escape forever but just for a few hours.
He wished to be a carefree child again. Waking up early, all excited to fly around the island, knowing his mother was waiting for him with a warm hug and a blanket to cuddle him.

He did not know how good life was back then until he lost it.

The servants found it easy to bring their belongings back from the ship, they barely had time to unpack anything during their short lived trip.

“Lord Aerion, Lord Aegon and Lady Visenya are here, they ask to have a word with you”.
His father was waiting for them in his studio. Aegon’s blood began to boil when he saw him there, sitting, with that stupid maester next to him. Lord Aerion could not even look at him.
Maybe he did have a conscience after all. 
Aegon hoped the ghost of guilt followed him for what he had left of his miserable life.
“Kepa… I was beginning to think you had left the island. What other reason could you have to not meet your grieving children?”.
Aegon had to bite his tongue and really measure what to say. Because if he let himself lose he would throw his father off the nearest cliff.
“Do you think that I am not busy? That I can appear at your call when you please it?”.
The young dragon could feel his sword burning in his side, asking to be used. 

How could he be so disrespectful?.
Had he always loved them so little? And now that his mother was gone he could finally show his true colours.
They really had lost the best champion they had in Dragonstone. 

He felt his wife’s hand pressuring him, a signal for her to take over. In that moment Aegon preferred it, he could not trust himself in that moment.
“I do not think you are busy, Lord Aerion, if you were we would have better results shown in our finances”.
Visenya sat slowly, in front of their father, she did not seem a bit worried or intimidated by his presence. For some unknown reason to Aegon, she did not seem angry either.
“Ungrateful child. Everything you own is thanks to my hard work” Their father hit the table in front of him. 

Both of his children did not move. It was like seeing a child throwing a tantrum.

“Second, you completely miss the point, I do not wish to see you. I do not wake up in the morning thinking of you, in fact every day I do not see you, it's a good day for me but there is something called duties,  don’t know if you remember but as a father you have duties with us and I think coming to meet us at the docks when our mother has died is truly the bare minimum, which seems to be the only thing we can ask from you”.

Chapter Text

Aegon had dreamt of the end of the world. He had dreamt of fire and blood.
Yet, nothing was as horrifying than the idea of losing his mother.
She was taken away from him without being allowed to say goodbye, that was more cruel than any eternal winter. For snow might melt but no one was going to give him his mother back.

Visenya had been inconsolable and he had no answers for it. He usually did, he knew had to read her well. After all they were not only a marriage but they were siblings, bonded by blood and destiny.

The worst part about his sister’s sadness was that, more often than not, it came filled with rage.

He could not blame her and he would not do so, for she was not unreasonable this time.

How could their father not tell them? They would probably have not arrived on time to say their goodbyes but how could he keep them in the dark?
While their mother suffered, did she cry for them? What did their father say?.

Your children have abandoned you.

You will die alone.

“Īlon jorrāelagon naejot mōris bisa, Aegon.  Ēza gone tolī tolmiot bisa jēda”. (We need to end this, Aegon. He has gone too far this time).

Visenya had grown increasingly reckless as they approached home. If he could keep calling Dragonstone like that.

“Īlen otāpagon skoros naejot gaomagon lēda se maps īlon jiōraton rȳ se Citadel”. (I was thinking what to do with the maps we got at the Citadel).
“Aegon, stop it!”.

He hated when she pulled her big sister’s voice out of the bed. He would not dare to speak back at her.
He could argue with his wife, he could not argue with his rōva mandia. (Big sister).

“Skoros gaomagon jaelā? kessa daor tepagon īlva arlī īlva muña, nor kessa īlva kepa māzigon naejot zȳhon”.
(What do you want? Yelling will not give us back our mother, nor will our father come to his senses).
“Senses? Which senses are you speaking of? He has none. He never had” Visenya sat next to him. 

They were at their cabinet, inside their grandfather’s ship. It seemed they lived there from now.
They had received word from him. His grandfather. The Lord of the tides himself. He was furious, he could feel his rage through each word on his letter.
Maybe they would be allowed to stay in Driftmark, away from their father. After all, he only had one thing worth fighting for left in Dragonstone.

“How do you think Rhaenys is doing?”
Visenya took a deep breath. She had not written to them since their mother died. Their grandfather had explained she was well but immersed in a complete sadness.
Aegon could understand that but it burned his soul not knowing how she was or what she was doing.
“Rhaenys, and all of us by extent, will suffer if the weak cunt we call father is seated in the dragon’s throne”.
“Do not call him…”.
“We are facing extinction!” Visenya held his face with a strong hold. Grabbing his cheeks with her right hand angrily. 
“Aegon, vestā iksi se nūmo, mērī iā kostōba dārilaros kostagon īlva, īlva lentor se vys.  Vali hae kepa kessa daor gaomagon ziry. 
Aegon, Iksā iā zaldrīzes. Act hae mēre”.
(Aegon, you said we are the seeds, only a strong heir can save us, our family, the world. Men, as the one we call father, cannot do this. 
Aegon, you are a dragon. Act as one).
He felt a stabbing feeling in the deepest part of his soul, like a poisoned dagger.

For some reason, he was doubting his decision. The moment that solemn duty had landed on his shoulders, he understood he was going to be forced to reach unreasonable limits to accomplish it.

His sister kept calling him a dragon but he felt like a mere ant. A dragon could be selfish and think only of his haunt and his nest but he had to build a dynasty.

“You want me to start my reign among the blood of my own father?”
“Yes. It should be the obvious choice to you”.
Aegon pushed Visenya, a bit harder than what he initially planned. He was enraged. Mainly because he knew she was right.

He used to think he was favoured by the gods, in that moment he hated them with every fibre of his body.

Aegon was so relieved when he saw Sir Orys waiting for him at the docks of Dragonstone.
How much comfort it gave him to just see him standing there. He did not put pressure on him, perhaps because he barely knew the truth about his dreams.
“Why is Rhaenys not here?”.
In truth, no one from their family, besides their grandfather, was there to receive them. Only a few servants.
Did they matter that little?
He was the heir. His father’s heir. His wife was to rule Dragonstone as well.
“Kostā epagon aōha byka raqiros. Istis sagon va kepa sȳz paktot lo issa naejot sagon kesīr hen zirȳla”.
(You can ask your little friend. He must be on father's good side if he is allowed to be here instead of her).
“Visenya, that is more than enough. Ao ȳdragon rōva udra nūmāzma se ānogar hen zaldrīzes.  Sȳrī issa sepār bona, iksis ziry daor”
(You speak big words about the blood of the dragon. Well he is just that, is he not).

Aegon knew that hurt Visenya deeply. He was not glad it happened but she needed to keep her tongue and learn the true meaning of family she so preached about.

Everyone knew Orys was their half brother.
There was no way to go around it.

His father brought him home one day with not much explanation and it enraged their mother. 

Aegon did not blame her. Any man that humiliated his wife like that did not deserve the comfort of her.
But as much as he hated what his father had done, Orys was their brother and he loved him as such.
He might not have been a pure blood valyrian like them but did it matter for love? Could they only show kindness to their own kind?.

“You call that a dragon?” Visenya laughed at her own words. 

How pleased she is with herself, Aegon thought with a sour taste in his mouth.
He loved that woman endlessly but she could get under his skin like no other. Maybe because she was the person that knew him the most.

“My dearest grandchildren” The Lord of the tides welcomed them honestly with open arms. He seemed affected. It was only natural,  he had lost the only child he had left. Aegon could not even begin to imagine how it must have felt.
His mother had a younger brother who had passed away earlier last year, leaving behind two young sons and a lovely daughter. Even though House Velaryon was sure to continue with two heirs. It was an irreparable damage.
“Honourable Grandfather. My lord. My wife and I want to give you our sincere condolences. How is Lady Velaryon?”.
“There is no need to be this formal with your old grandfather” He laughed when he said so. It was a sad smile, filled with nostalgia and affection. “Your grandmother is… as expected. Our two children were claimed by the gods in such a short period of time, I think she might just need time”.
“Then time we will give her”. Visenya sounded sincere. She touched her belly when she spoke. It was barely a second but he saw, he could sense every one of her movements.

Aegon did not want to ask her but he suspected she was with child. So soon. He thought.
What was the rush? It had been barely two months since the wedding.
But he would be happy if that was the case. He kept repeating that to himself. 

At some point he would believe it.

“Sir Orys, it is a pleasure to see you again” Aegon had a sincere smile on his face.
The two brothers embraced and the young dragon felt like he should have never left his side. He wanted to cry on his shoulder until the tears ran dry but he could not afford that. 
“It is good to finally have you at home, my lord”. He seemed worried. Aegon knew him well, he looked ashamed with his sight fixed on the ground below them.
“Where is our beloved sister? I left her to your good care”.
“And for what we know, he failed”. Aegon had to admit Visenya was right about that. Their sister was injured, they did not know the extent of the issue but it was something they had to revisit with detail, especially what relation it had to their mother’s demise.
“I’m afraid I have to agree with my wife. There’s a lot of explanation to be done. Not to mention, where is our lord father?”
Before he could reply a shriek conquered the skies.

It was his Balerion, he knew him better than he knew himself.

A shadow was casted over them, it meant death for some but it was home for Aegon. 

Nothing in the world could compare to that. In that, his sister was absolutely right. Their blood called for dragon fire. They desperately needed it.
“He refused to come, he imagined that they would be there”.
“Iā Targārien zūgagon zaldrīzoti. Skoros iā mundagon” (A Targaryen scared of dragons. What a disgrace). Visenya was livid.

It definitely left a sour taste in their mouth. It felt unnatural.
Almost as fratricide in some strange way.

His ancestors would weep to see that their house was in the hands of such a man.
Balerion landed at the top of a nearby stack, looking menacing and even bigger than usual next to their grandfather’s ships.

“I know my lord father's disdain for dragons ran deep but it had never been to this point. What happened? Does this have to do with our mother’s death?”
“Perhaps it is better to enter the fortress so I can explain to both of you. There is no need to air our family matters to every living soul in this bloody island”.

Their grandfather was right. Aegon had to learn how to control his emotions better.

He looked back to his dragon. 
Oh how he wished to just jump on him and leave for a while. He did not need to escape forever but just for a few hours.
He wished to be a carefree child again. Waking up early, all excited to fly around the island, knowing his mother was waiting for him with a warm hug and a blanket to cuddle him.

He did not know how good life was back then until he lost it.

The servants found it easy to bring their belongings back from the ship, they barely had time to unpack anything during their short lived trip.
“Lord Aerion, Lord Aegon and Lady Visenya are here, they ask to have a word with you”.
His father was waiting for them in his studio. Aegon’s blood began to boil when he saw him there, sitting, with that stupid maester next to him. Lord Aerion could not even look at him.

Maybe he did have a conscience after all. 
Aegon hoped the ghost of guilt followed him for what he had left of his miserable life.

“Kepa… I was beginning to think you had left the island. What other reason could you have to not meet your grieving children?”.
Aegon had to bite his tongue and really measure what to say. Because if he let himself lose he would throw his father off the nearest cliff.
“Do you think that I am not busy? That I can appear at your call when you please it?”. The young dragon could feel his sword burning in his side, asking to be used.
How could he be so disrespectful?.
Has he always loved them so little? And now that his mother was gone he could finally show his true colours. 

They really had lost the best champion they had in Dragonstone.

He felt his wife’s hand pressuring him, a signal for her to take over. In that moment Aegon preferred it, he could not trust himself in that moment.
“I do not think you are busy, Lord Aerion, if you were we would have better results shown in our finances”.
Visenya sat slowly, in front of their father, she did not seem a bit worried or intimidated by his presence. For some unknown reason to Aegon, she did not seem angry either.
“Ungrateful child. Everything you own is thanks to my hard work” Their father hit the table in front of him. 

Both of his children did not move. It was like seeing a child throwing a tantrum.

“Second, you completely miss the point, I do not wish to see you. I do not wake up in the morning thinking of you, in fact every day I do not see you. It's a good day for me but there is something called duties,  don’t know if you remember but as a father you have duties with us and I think coming to meet us at the docks when our mother has died is truly the bare minimum, which seems to be the only thing we can ask from you”.
Lord Aerion got up from his chair, with his face red and his nostrils inflamed from anger. Neither one of his children broke eye contact with him, not once.
“How dare you speak to your lord father in this way?! You should be thankful…”
“Maester… whatever your name is, I do not care about your opinion”.

Their Lord grandfather rested a hand on Visenya's shoulder, clearly trying to calm her down or take some control back from her.

“Good son, your children are grieving, the loss of their mother…”
“Do not give them any right to speak to me in such a manner!”.

Was he not hurt by her loss?.
Did he not miss her?.
Maybe he would remarry even. He clearly did not care enough or understood anything about feelings.

“What happened to our mother?” Aegon finally intervened. He was furious but he could not let the situation escalate more.
His grandfather was right. As much as it hurt to admit it, he would have to play the dutiful son if he wanted to get anything out of this.
“You should ask your sister. Her and all of your bloody dragons. They are the cause of this tragedy”.
“She is a child and she is in pain. Do not blame my granddaughter for this devastating misfortune” Lord Velaryon was a mighty man, the years had not undermined his character or presence.
“Rhaenys caused this. Rhaenys is at fault and to be honest I do not know what to do with her nor do I wish to see her, do not ask again”.

Visenya and Aegon exchanged worrying looks. 
Those words could not be true, their sweet sister would not hurt anyone and much less their beloved mother.
But what could he mean with “do not ask again”? How many times have their lord grandfather begged for their father to pay attention to their sister?.

She was hurt, she was in pain and probably alone for what it seemed. 

Oh, what a great mistake their father had committed. For Aegon could forgive many trespassing but not with his little one.
And he knew well that Visenya felt it ten times more.

For there was nothing or no one she loved more than their most cherished sister.

“Where is Rhaenys?” Visenya whispered in between teeth. 
Aegon knew exactly what that meant, for he had seen dragons attacking their prey before.
“She is in her room, where she should have been the night of your mother’s murder”.
“Do not call it a murder, Aerion! You are not being fair to the child”. Lord Velaryon seemed to be furious. 

What a blessing he was to be there. Velaena was clearly her father’s daughter.

“What must I call it? An accident? Your sister ran away from her room, with his blessing may I add” He pointed at Sir Orys who was looking at the floor, clearly ashamed of himself. “She went to tame a dragon. Go figure. In the middle of the night with a storm like no other outside, all hell broke loose and your sister running around with those beasts. And your mother… your poor mother went to help her. She could not bear the idea of her little girl outside, alone, frightened, she ran in her undergarments, desperate to find her and the only thing she found was death”.

“Is this true, Sir Orys?” Aegon’s voice cracked, he could not swallow his own saliva. 

He did not want to imagine how frightened they both felt. It felt that so many people had failed them.
Starting for him, who should have been there. 

“It is… close to the truth, my lord”.
“Are you calling me a liar? After everything I’ve done for you, you turn your back on me?”. Lord Aerion looked at Orys with a face full of disgust and anger. 

As much as his father wanted to take credit for Sir Orys accomplishments, he did not have the decency to even recognize him as his son. 
Aegon could not think of a cruelty bigger than that.

“I would dare to do such a thing, my lord. Unfortunately, for the outcome of the evening could have been different, you were not there. Therefore some details of the events differ from what happened” Aegon knew very well how Sir Orys was cursing his father with every fibre of his body but he was probably angrier with himself.
“Be done with the theatrics and tell us what in the world happened” Visenya did not have any patience but in that situation her husband did not blame her.
“Lady Rhaenys did go for a walk in the middle of the night, but it was not raining when she left her chambers. She felt unwell and thought a walk would help her. I went with her, as it did your lady cousin. The storm took everyone by surprise, Lady Rhaenys saw some dragons getting into a brutal fight, she was scared a wild dragon would attack Vhagar’s nest, she was obsessed with saving the eggs. Then I went to ask for help and the situation unravelled. Vhagar and Balerion got into a massacre with a wild dragon, Lady Rhaenys was trying to get to a safe place when your lady mother ran to her, the dragons were out of control and one of them hit her falling through the cliff.
I took Lady Rhaenys inside, she was inconsolable and heavily wounded. It took three days for her to be able to walk again and she is still in pain, my lord”.

Aegon drew a breath involuntarily. Visenya held his hand tightly, he could barely feel it. 

He did not know what he was feeling. 

Anger seemed like a small word to describe his feelings.
He did not have time for sadness.
Revenge, perhaps. Was that a feeling? It felt as such in that very moment.

“Where were you?” Aegon got up from his chair, slowly, not by intention but because his entire body was shaking.
It was like seeing a flame burning bright. It might be flaking from the wind but it is obvious it could bring down your entire house.
“What in the world are you talking about”.
“Do not mistake my kindness for weakness. I have kept my mouth shut, kepa, for the wellbeing of everyone involved in this family but I will not forgive this transgression” Lord Aerion found himself unable to swallow with his son’s voice tone. He was more commanding at ten and seven than he ever had been “where were you? You bang your fist to your chest, like an angry child, repeating over and over that you are the lord of Dragonstone, that you are our father. Well, where were you? Why did your wife get out of bed alone in the middle of a storm? Why did you not go after them as soon as you heard your daughter was in danger?”.
“I was not going to put my life at risk for a mess your sister had created. She thinks she is such an adult with her dragon then so be it”. He spit the word dragon like poison on the tip of his mouth.

Disgusting. Aegon thought.

“That is all I needed to hear. Dear wife, please, get up, the conversation has finished” Visenya followed her brother’s instructions, for once. “We will take care of our sister from now on, since she is such a problem to you and do not try to stop us or there will be consequences”.
“Are you threatening me? My own son, my own blood”.
“That is where you are mistaken, kepa. Gaomi daor share keskydoso ānogar, syt iksan se ānogar hen zaldrīzes Se ao, mērī se Jaes gīmigon skoros iā shame iksā syt bisa lentor”.
(We do not share the same blood, for I am the blood of the dragon and you, only the gods know what a shame you are for this house).

“Īlen hoskagon hen ao, arlī konīr, nyke really iksin” (I was pride of you, back there, I really was).

It felt good to hear it from his sister. He needed her by his side.

The big war ahead of them, Dragonstone, their sister… how in the seven hells was he supposed to do that on his own.
She was his right hand, even if they had the temper of their dragons.

“Skoros ēza masitas… Visenya īles daor aōha. Vhagar iksin sepār zirȳla se sīr iksin īlva mandia”. (What has happened, Visenya, it was not your fault. Vhagar was just defending her own and so was our sister).
Aegon had read her mind. She looked around, refusing to seem nervous.  
Her proud beloved wife. She was not going to change.

“Gōntan ao rȳbagon skoros kepa vestās? ziry vestretan naejot emagon kipagon iā zaldrīzes” (Did you hear what father said? She seemed to have claimed a dragon).

Do not change the subject. He thought.
You are good, you must not shy away from compliments.
He wished he could bath her in kindness every day. Aegon was sure it would do wonders to her.

“Kessa. Rȳ least emi mēre sȳz arlie” (Yes. At least we have one good news).
They were standing at Rhaenys’ door. She had been confined to her room for weeks. Only going out when her grandfather was allowed to see her.
Aegon could feel his heart beating into his chest. How much he missed her. They should have taken her on the trip. They could have worried about time alone later.

It was all his fault.
Perhaps he had a duty to the world but he could not fulfil it if his house fell on him.

“My lady?”. They turned to see a familiar female voice.
“Cousin Naerys” Visenya would never admit it but she looked relieved to see the familiar face.
“Oh for all the gods! Thanks be the mother you are here! You do not know what the lady Rhaenys has been through” The girl seemed on the verge of tears. “My deepest condolences for my aunt’s tragic passing but you must know it was not her fault! Ask Sir Orys or our lord grandfather”
“We just were told. We spoke with both and with our lord father… unfortunately. Have you been able to attend to her these weeks?”.
“Well… my lord… I am not sure on how to define attending. I have been allowed to empty her chamberpot and dress her but lately she has refused the latest”.
“She refuses to dress?”
“And to eat, until she is allowed to see her dragon”.

Well that sounded like the Rhaenys they knew and loved. Their father could not break her spirit, that’s a good sign. 
Aegon signalled for the guards to open the doors, they seemed to doubt for a second.
“If we have to repeat ourselves be sure you will end up as dragon carnage”.

Rhaenys was sitting by the window. So ethereally beautiful. 

It was insulting how she took Aegon’s breath away.

She was full naked with her velvet skin bathed by the sun setting in Dragonstone. Her white hair was longer than last time they saw her, if that was even possible.
Her delicate and lovely face was red and swollen from excessive crying.
Visenya ran to her, without explanation or saying one word. Having her between her arms said more than anything they could do.

“Cousin Naerys” Aegon called her “bring my sister’s riding dress. She is going to mount her dragon today”.

Rhaenys tried to fill them in on all the details regarding their mother’s death but they refused to go on about the topic.
“I am so sorry, it is all my fault. She was buried in the Velaryon tradition, sent to the sea by the northern shore. I would have preferred to burn her, Meraxes could have done it. She is such a brave little dragon”.

The night had come. She was happy but spent all the afternoon flying.

“Gaomagon daor worry nūmāzma bona sir. Ipradagon” . (Do not worry about that now. Eat).
Aegon had not stopped smiling seeing her. What a vision she was. Words could not describe how he desired to be with her.
She was the most precious treasure Dragonstone could ever wish to have.

He was hand feeding her. After so many days of hunger, she was lapping at her dinner like a little kitten.

“ Skoros gōntan ao pendagon hen Merakses? ziry looks mirrī funny yn gaoman jorrāelagon zirȳla ”. (What did you think of Meraxes? She looks a bit funny but I do love her).
“Hae ao should.  Issa aōha zaldrīzes, iksā mēre se keskydoso”. (As you should. She is your dragon, you are one and the same).

The dragon looked like a chicken. Aegon did not want to say it out loud for it would hurt his sister’s feelings but that creature was a big, slightly adorable, chicken.

“Nyke missed ao lanta, sīr trūmirī.  Ziry felt qubykta than mirre hen ñuha ōdria”. (I missed you two, so deeply. It felt worse than any of my wounds).
He took her hands between his, kissing them with reverence. Aegon let himself rest for a moment against her skin.
Rhaenys smelled like ashes and lilies. She was as smooth as velvet and as warm as the morning sun.

She was the greatest gift their mother could have left them.

“ Iksan sīr vaoreznuni īlen daor kesīr, nyke should emagon mīsagon ao”. (I am so sorry I was not here, I should have protected you”.
His sister caressed his hair with devotion. Aegon found himself unable to look at her face, he was deeply ashamed, having failed at his most vital duty.

If he could not defend his family, how was he going to carry the fate of the world on his shoulders?.
The gods must have made a mistake. Surely they could not choose him. 
Visenya perhaps. Yes, she was brave. A true warrior. Much more fit to rule than him.

He found himself crying against his sister’s hands. Wetting her delicate skin.
“Oh my love. My dearest brother, why are you filled with sorrow? Is it because of our mother?”.
“I will not be enough. I do not think I will ever be able to be enough”.

His father was right. He was a child barely grown. 

“You are not making any sense. Listen to me and do not be stupid”. Rhaenys took his face and pressed it hard “ Iksā kostōba. Iksā jorrāelatan. Iksā iā zaldrīzes. Gaomagon daor nārhēdegon skoros muña va moriot vestās. Iksā se hen īlva lentor se Visenya se kesan sagon kesīr ondoso aōha paktot. Va moriot”.
(You are strong. You are loved. You are a dragon. Do not forget what mother always said. You are the future of our house and both Visenya and I will be here by your side. Always).

Aegon looked at her purple eyes, they were almost blue and pale as the moon. So closed like this, he could see a scar that was beginning to heal starting on her left cheek and resting on top of her pink and plump lips.

She was a divine vision.

“May I kiss you, mandia?” (sister) . It came out in a whisper, surprising Aegon himself. He did not recognize his own voice. 

His baby sister took a moment to reply, she seemed to be weighting her answer carefully.

“Take care, lēkia ” (brother).  Rhaenys’s voice was also low and deep, nothing like her usual childish tone. “Our sister warned me one day, if she started kissing me one day, she would not be able to stop. You think you could?”.

It was embarrassing late when Aegon tried to sneak out of Rhaenys’s room.

What was he thinking? What had he done?.

There was no way Visenya had not realised what was happening. 
With the noises they were making, probably the whole island knew.

Would she be mad? They had only been married for a month and, if Aegon’s suspicions were right, they were expecting.
And he had the audacity to do that. To behave in such an undignified manner.

No, surely Visenya would not be angry. 

She had told them countless times they should not fight any feelings they had for each other, so they did. But why did he feel guilty? Why did it feel like a crime hidden in the darkness of night?.

Another worry to add to the pile.

A dead mother.
An alienated father.
A pregnant wife.
A sister who turned into a lover.
And of course a world ending prophecy.

It had been two months. For the seven hells, two months.

Surely the gods must hate Aegon, he thought to himself. There could not be another explanation.

There must have been someone else they could borrow, some other person to give some of those battles.

On his way back to his room, he found Sir Orys. It was late, extremely late for him to just be going around the fortress without a reason.
“Why in the world are you not asleep? Has something happened”.
Orys looked at some of the guards doing the rounds, surrounding them. He seemed clearly worried, or at least it was clear for Aegon.
“No, my lord, of course not” the knight took him by the shoulder, getting him closer to his own body. He was still looking over his shoulder to the guards behind them. He felt uneasy.
“I have to tell you something” Aegon was whispering once more. What a night full of secrets was that one. 
“Whatever it is, believe me, it can wait. You need to come with me, at once”.
“Has something…”.
“Yes, something has happened. Where were you anyway?”.
“That's what I tried to tell you. I have slept with Rhaenys”.

Sir Orys stopped suddenly, looking at Aegon with a surprised face. 

“Sleep as in naked as in… did you have sex with her?”. The younger boy nodded a bit ashamed of himself. “Keep this information to yourself for the night, my lord”.
“But Visenya…”.
“Lady Visenya is in no state tonight to take this. We have had enough blood spilled on this sacred house”.

Aegon felt a shiver go through his spine. 
What had she done?.
He left her alone for a few hours and tragedy unfolded.

“What has happened?”.
“I cannot speak now, just follow me”.

They reached their library, a place where all the siblings had spent hours and knew well. 
There was not a single guard on sight. That was a clear sign to Aegon that something was not right.

Sir Orys barely opened the door, the slightest to make Aegon fit through it.  
“We need to clean this up before the morning. The maester will be looking for your lord father by then”.

Visenya seemed to honestly be mortified or at least ashamed.
She very well should be, Aegon thought.
It was a strange vision, her white hair covered in blood, none hers clearly. She had her sword in her lap, like a strange accessory against her evening gown. Once purple, it was the colour of their house.

Dark red.
Their father laid dead facing down against the floor, with a pool of blood that covered the entire carpet.
“I can explain”, she whispered.

Lord Aerion had been murdered.

Chapter Text

He took her hands in between his, caressing her skin like he had done earlier that night.
“There has been an accident, a terrible one. Unfortunately, father… he is dead”.
Aegon could feel her hands shaking slightly, she looked confused, poor thing. Did he tell him the truth or kept it to himself? Could she handle the truth?.
“What… what did… how…”.
“I went to the library searching for Visenya, we had an argument, he pushed me and we had a small brawl, he fell from the library’s window. This is all my fault, Rhaenys”.
It was easier that way. He could accept her anger and hatred, he deserved it for all that matter but to cause a riff between sister was the last thing he would wish to do.
“What do you mean an argument? Aegon, are you okay? Where is his body?”.
“We do not know, my lady. We’ve been looking for hours now. The sea must have washed it away”. Thank the gods for Orys intervention, Aegon would have not been that imaginative with his father’s fate.
Rhaenys’s eyes filled with tears. Her sight roamed the room, clearly thinking.
“But are you okay? Has he hurt you?”. The young boy felt a sharp pain of guilt on his chest.
Is that how he had been supposed to answer to Visenya? That understanding and kindness Rhaenys was showing to him?.
“No, it is okay. Our troubles start now, mandia. If someone finds out, the men could desert and we would be left alone in the island.
“We are orphans, lēkia… We are alone…”.
There was a silence in the room. A sudden wave of sadness, all the melancholy Aegon had been keeping hidden during that night was threatening to come up.
“My lady, you have your siblings, your grandparents are still alive as well. If we can successfully hide this for at least a while… everything will fall into place”.
Rhaenys did not seem convinced, the poor thing seemed terribly scared. Aegon was never going to forgive himself for causing her such terror.
“Where is Visenya? The three of us must discuss this”.
“I behave like an idiot with her, she is mad at me and I do not blame her”.
“Men” The girl whipped her tears, taking a deep breath. She looked much older that night. A woman grown at last. “Well I am going to try and convince her to forgive your trespassing but before that, what do we need to do?”.
“We dismissed the guards earlier this night to try and cover the argument, we need to give them a convincing excuse”.
“We can be the distraction”.

Guards gossiped like fisherman wives. The moment Sir Orys started the, very true, rumour that Rhaenys and Aegon had slept together and that was the reason they needed the corridors empty, so no one would see him entering her room. Everything seemed to be fine.
They pretended they did not know where their father was for days. Acting all surprised.
They sent word to every lord he once knew asking for him, pretending he had mysteriously disappeared.
“I think it is time for you to take your father’s place”. Their grandfather said, one morning while breaking fast with them.
He had come immediately to their call. The lord of the Tides seemed to be the only constant figure they had in their lives.
“It has only been a week, maybe he will come back soon”.
Aegon sometimes believed it, he truly did. It all must have been a bad dream, how could it not be.
For how could it be true and for him to maintain his sanity.

He had nightmares again. Every single night. He was standing in front of a great throne made of a million swords, it was covered in snow. His father was there, every damn night he waited for him, raised from the dead, frozen, like a corpse made of ice.
Lord Aerion did not speak. Aegon felt that no sound came from him either.
He screamed and screamed but there was nothing to be heard.

“How are your sisters?”.
“They went riding this morning. Lately they spend more time on dragonback than on land”.
“That is where they are, not how they are feeling”.

Visenya bled one day, he did not know which, she refused to speak to him about it. She kept saying it was only her days but Aegon knew she had been with child. He tried to be closer to her, he might not have wanted that babe but it was his son or daughter after all.
“Lo ēdan ojūdan ziry, issa ñuhon naejot limagon se ñuhon naejot remember. Daorys nejet”.
(If I had lost it, it is mine to mourn and mine to remember. No one else).
Aegon believed it was punishment, for the way he had reacted that day.

Chapter Text

They fed their father to their dragons.

Aegon would never admit it but he doubted there was a place inside of him to forgive Visenya for what had happened. 

He had to carry his father’s body through the entire Dragonstone, wrapped around the library’s carpet.
The one he used to sit to read as a young child.
It was madness. His sister had lost her mind.

“He attacked me, Aegon. You must believe me”.
He could not believe she was still talking. He had carried his father, held his corpse’s head while his brother held his feet and she still thought she had something relevant to say.

They were looking at the sea. The same beach in which they played as children now held the body of their father.
“I hope you know I will never forgive you for this”.

There was a silence between them that hurt more than a thousand knives. There was something broken, the same unspeakable bond that once made them strong, it now killed them.
”Gaoman daor jorrāelagon ao naejot shijetra nyke, nyke sepār jaelagon ao naejot shifang skoros ēza massitas”.
(I do not need your forgiveness, I just want you to understand what has happened).
Aegon hated his father on many occasions, almost as much as that man seemed to hate him, but to turn into a kinslayer, to curse their line, for what? A moment of rage?.
“Nyke shifang sȳrī.  Syt sir nyke gīmigon iksan nissa nissa se emā aōha egry isse ñuha lēda bisa”.
(I understand well. For now I know I am nissa nissa and you have driven your knife in my chest with this).

What he hated the most, besides the obvious fact that he had to touch his father’s corpse, was that Visenya was not making the slightest effort to understand why Aegon was filled with anger.

“Sagon mirrī valītsos, kesan daor beg ao dombo yn iksā āeksio hen Zaldrīzesdōron sir, emā mirre naejot gaomagon”.
(Be a little boy, I will not beg you any more but you are lord of Dragonstone now, you have a lot to do).
“Yes, leave. I do not think I can stand to look at you any longer”.
“What are you going to do with the guards? They are going to be suspicious”.
“Ābrazȳrys, henujagon” (wife, leave).
“They are going to ask questions about why they have been dismissed in the middle of the night…”.
“Visenya, kesan daor epagon ao arlī. Henujagon”. (Visenya, i will not ask you again. Leave).
She took a deep breath. A sound broke far from the island. A dragon. Vhagar most likely. That glorious beast.

She could feel her rider’s anger from miles away. Aegon was surprised she did not burst into the castle the moment her sister faced their father.
“ Nyke suppose nyke daor argue lēda ao dombo, syt iksā se āeksio hen sombāzmion sir. Raqagon ziry”.
(I suppose I cannot argue with you any more, for you are the Lord of the castle now. Enjoy it).
Two months into their marriage and Aegon already feared those dark clouds over them, they felt like a storm impossible to face.

“Her ladyship is right, the guards will know”. 
It was almost dawn, he had returned to his chambers. Aegon longed for a good bath, he felt he reeked of death.
“Day is approaching fast. What do you think would happen if they find out?”.
“To be honest, there is not much they can do. They would leave the island perhaps but you could hire more men from Volantis and…”.
“Orys, I cannot afford to lose any more time. There is a darkness approaching us, one like we have never seen before, we cannot be weak… If I fail, if I am not strong enough…”.

Aegon felt a pain in his chest, that weight again.
He needed his father gone. As much as he hated the idea, Visenya was right about that but her recklessness and lack of judgement lead them to an incredibly vulnerable position.

Seven kingdoms he had to conquer, to unite them under his command and make sure they stayed in Targaryen rule when the long night came.

“Death will come, sooner or later but it will come. Only dragon blood can conquer it. The seven kingdoms must be one and dragon blood must prevail otherwise darkness will swallow us all. From my blood will come the dragons that will end the Long Night. Our blood, brother. Do you understand that?”.

Orys was looking at him with a mix of terror and, perhaps, caution. Like somebody approaching a wounded deer. Aegon hated it.

Why did the gods choose him?
Visenya was the true warrior, the scholar, the pinnacle of valyrian culture.
Rhaenys was the poet, fearless, a dragon rider.
What did he have? He had no place in this mess.

“Brother… I did not know and I probably would never understand fully what is this weight that you have on your shoulders. But whatever you need, whatever it is I have to do I will”.

Aegon looked at him with pitiness.
Maybe Visenya was right. Maybe Orys was no dragon.

“We need every man on hand. I cannot go around begging to Volantis or the seven Hells themselves for a couple guards. We need to start preparing now”. Aegon took a minute to breath and collect his thoughts.

There was a knock on the door. Both men’s hands went directly to their swords. 
“You two calm down. It is just me”. It was his sister Rhaenys in a nightgown.

A new one, not the one Aegon had ripped from her body just mere hours ago.

“Mandia, what are you doing here?”.
“At first I wanted to know why you would fuck me and let me to wake up alone in my room. I suppose Sir Orys knows, so we can speak freely”.
Aegon felt a wave of shame filling him. He had taken his little sister to bed and let her alone in one of the most vulnerable moments in her life.
He really could do nothing right in his life.
“I am so sorry…”.
“We will have time for that because we definitely need to speak about it. Now what in the seven hells is going on?”.
He had to be honest with himself, a few months back he would have sworn his sister would miss their father, that she would weep hearing what her siblings had done but after everything that had fallen on their house these last weeks, Aegon could not predict what Rhaenys might do.
He took her hands in between his, caressing her skin like he had done earlier that night.
“There has been an accident, a terrible one. Unfortunately, father… he is dead”.
Aegon could feel her hands shaking slightly, she looked confused, poor thing. Would he tell him the truth or kept it to himself? Could she handle the truth?.
“What… what did… how…”.
“I went to the library searching for Visenya, we had an argument, he pushed me and we had a small brawl, he fell from the library’s window. This is all my fault, Rhaenys”.

It was easier that way. He could accept her anger and hatred, he deserved it for all that matter but to cause a riff between sister was the last thing he would wish to do.

“What do you mean an argument? Aegon, are you okay? Where is his body?”.
“We do not know, my lady. We’ve been looking for hours now. The sea must have washed it away”. Thank the gods for Orys intervention, Aegon would have not been that imaginative with his father’s fate.
Rhaenys’s eyes filled with tears. Her sight roamed the room, clearly thinking.
“But are you okay? Has he hurt you?”. The young boy felt a sharp pain of guilt on his chest.

Is that how he had been supposed to answer to Visenya? That understanding and kindness Rhaenys was showing to him?.

“No, it is okay. Our troubles start now, mandia . If someone finds out, the men could desert and we would be left alone on the island.
“We are orphans, lēkia… We are alone…”. 

There was silence in the room. A sudden wave of sadness, all the melancholy Aegon had been keeping hidden during that night was threatening to come up.

“My lady, you have your siblings, your grandparents are still alive as well. If we can successfully hide this for at least a while… everything will fall into place”. Sir Orys intervened once again.
Rhaenys did not seem convinced, the poor thing seemed terribly scared. Aegon was never going to forgive himself for causing her such terror.
“Where is Visenya? The three of us must discuss this”.
“I behaved like an idiot with her, she is mad at me and I do not blame her”.
“Men” The girl whipped her tears, taking a deep breath. She looked much older that night. A woman grown at last. “Well I am going to try and convince her to forgive your trespassing but before that, what do we need to do?”.
“We dismissed the guards earlier this night to try and cover the argument, we need to give them a convincing excuse”.

“We can be the distraction”. 

Guards gossiped like fisherman wives. The moment Sir Orys started the, very true, rumour that Rhaenys and Aegon had slept together and that was the reason they needed the corridors empty so no one would see him entering her room. Everything seemed to be fine.

They pretended they did not know where their father was for days. Acting all surprised.

They sent word to every lord he once knew asking for him, pretending he had mysteriously disappeared.
“I think it is time for you to take your father’s place”. Their grandfather said, one morning while breaking fast with them.
He had come immediately to their call. The lord of the Tides seemed to be the only constant figure they had  in their lives.
“It has only been a week, maybe he will come back soon”.
Aegon sometimes believed it, he truly did. It all must have been a bad dream, how could it not be. 

For how could it be true and for him to maintain his sanity.

He had nightmares again. Every single night. He was standing in front of a great throne made of a million swords, it was covered in snow. His father was there, every damn night he waited for him, raised from the dead, frozen, like a corpse made of ice.

Lord Aerion did not speak. Aegon felt that no sound came from him either.
He screamed and screamed but there was nothing to be heard.

“How are your sisters?”.
“They went riding this morning. Lately they spend more time on dragonback than on land”.
“That is where they are, not how they are feeling”.

Visenya bled one day, he did not know which, she refused to speak to him about it. She kept saying it was only her women’s days but Aegon knew she had been with child. He tried to be closer to her, he might not have wanted that babe but it was his son or daughter after all.

“ Lo ēdan ojūdan ziry, issa ñuhon naejot limagon se ñuhon naejot remember.  Daorys nejet”. (If I had lost it, it is mine to mourn and mine to remember. No one else).

Aegon believed it was punishment, for the way he had reacted that day.
He could not blame her, he had been a disgrace of a husband and a brother.

But something inside of him told him he was on the right, a small voice that wished to be less servile, less scared of his own emotions.

Rhaenys had spent every single night with Visenya. What those two had spoken about Aegon sleeping with her he did not know. Maybe it was not his place to know.
She came to him one night, whispering like a little kitten, glowing in the dark light of the moon. She was extraordinarily beautiful.
When all was set and done, she put on her clothes and left for Visenya’s room.
“You are a great company, lēkia, but our sister needs me more than you”.
Rhaenys smiled before leaving and yet Aegon felt completely devastated. 

Did he have any place in his sister’s life anymore?

“Your sister must get married… Aegon, I will be very frank, there is rumour spreading like an infection about you and Rhaenys. We need to fix this, fast. I was thinking that your cousin, my grandson Aethan, could make a fine match. Rhaenys would be lady of Driftmark one day and you three would not live far from each other”. His grandfather continued speaking that day.

Rhaenys sixteenth birthday was approaching fast. She had no maidenhood, that and a brand new dragon would have drove any suitors away. If he had to be honest with himself, Aegon knew he would fight every man that tried to take her away from him.
For he had no felt a greater love in his short life. It was their birthright to be together as one, on that much he agreed.

“I will not answer to rumours, only to the truth. I know what it is best for my sister and most importantly she knows what she wants in life”.
“You are being stubborn”.
“Perhaps it was about time I did”.

There was an uncomfortable silence between them. Aegon took a deep breath, he had to remind himself he was not talking to his grandfather alone but to 

“You are different”. Sir Orys commented when they left the room,
“What do you mean?”.
“I do not know, brother, I just feel you are not the same Aegon. I say it as a compliment”. 

He smiled, blushing like a little boy.

“Shut up” They both laughed and for a second it seemed everything was fine. The young man felt he could breathe for the first time in weeks, maybe months. “I am going to see if my sisters want to talk to me”.
“While they are outside with their dragons? You think it is wise?” Sir Orys raised his eyebrow, he seemed honestly concerned.
“Let’s hope and pray it is true the legends that valyrians do not burn under dragon fire. For my own sake. Meanwhile, I need you to do some work for me”.
“Yes, my lord. Whatever it is you may need”.
“I need you to visit Storm’s End. You need to run some errands” Aegon realised how confused and a bit terrified his brother looked.
“I don’t know if the old Durrandon would even let me enter his kingdom”.

They both reached his quarters. Aegon had been carefully planning his strategy for the last week. He wished he could have ran it over with his sisters before, especially Visenya, he was sure she had better ideas than him but he had no time to lose.
“You will not ask him permission”. He locked the door behind them. He did not trust a single soul in that castle. “You will leave hidden in one of my grandfather’s merchant ships but I do not want you to be subtle, I want for the rumour of us to arrive at the Durrandon false king”.
“Why”. Aegon approached his desk, giving his back to his brother.
“Because, I want everyone to know that House Targaryen is coming for them, with fire and blood we are coming.But you must be extremely careful, for you will take with you a precious prize. Here is a detailed map of the seven kingdoms, it is one of a kind. I doubt there is a map like this in all of the West. I spoke with my grandfather about making copies of it, unfortunately his cartographer does not have the means to make as many copies as we need ” He rolled the map in his hands, pressing lightly. He did not doubt his brother but one small move could ruin their whole operation. “There is a printer in Storm’s Ends, I think you know it well, you’ve picked books from it before. They have machines to make at least ten copies at once. I have not started planning with my sisters but I assume the conquest will start from different points, we need enough for our commanders”.

Orys seemed to be understanding slowly what was going on. Aegon had not told him the full plan, mainly because he knew the older man would lose his mind.

“Are you suggesting… brother, do you want to invade the West?”.
“Yes”.
“I thought… for the seven, Aegon, this is bigger than I ever imagined”.
“We have to, I told you about my prophecies”.
“I will fight with you, if the seven kingdoms is what you want I will give them to you but I barely understood anything you’ve been saying about this whole matter”.

And he did not blame him.
Aegon smiled. He did feel alone, he could not blame anyone, it was difficult to explain out loud, his dreams. No one could understand the horrors he had seen.

“This seems a preventable risk” Orys continued. “The maesters can make copies by hand, it is not fast but them and the cartographers could do the job”.
“The maesters cannot find out about the existence of this map yet. They do not have our interest at heart”.
“I understand they are cunts but…”.
“We stole the map from the citadel”.

A silence fell again between them. Sir Orys took a deep breath, clearly tired. He sat on a chair in front of him.

“Of course you did”.
“We technically did not steal it, somebody else did that. We did not ask him to do it”.
"Oh well, then that makes it perfect, doesn’t it”.

Aegon knew that had he not just become Lord of Dragonstone, his brother would be smacking him in the face.

“So when do I leave”.
“Tomorrow morning. There is one more thing I need to ask you. Your mother lives in Storm’s Ends, does she not”.

Sir Orys seemed to freeze on the spot, Aegon smiled, trying to calm his unfounded nerves.
How difficult it must be to be terrified at the bare mention of your family.

Maybe Aegon could relate to that as well.

“Yes… why so, brother?”.
“You could visit her, it has been how many years since you’ve seen her in the flesh?”.
"Close to ten”. His voice was lowerer, barely a whisper at much.
“Good then, you have to be a good son, attend to your mother and ask her for some documents of your birth and family, for I will not have a bastard without a surname as a brother”. The two men looked at each other. Orys’s eyes were filled with an unspeakable love, still with caution perhaps but Aegon could swear he could see tears filling his eyes.
“What is your mother’s family name”.
“Baratheon, my lord”.
“Then let Orys Water die, for Sir Orys Baratheon must rise”.

The two brothers embraced, getting up from their seats almost in unison. Aegon melted in his brother’s arms, he wanted to sob like a small babe, he had needed that tiny piece of affection for so long.

What a blessing it was to have him there.
What an unbroken bond they had.

Baratheon and Targaryen, forever tied by love and blood.

Aegon took the sky with Balerion that afternoon, searching for his sisters. Visenya and her formidable Vhagar and Rhaenys with the chicken.

It was wrong for him to mock his sister’s dragon, after everything she had sacrificed to get her but it was difficult not to when he saw her standing there with her two little feet.
They were on a small dock near Dragonstone. Blackwater’s bay in sight, land of Harren the Black and the old Argilac.
“This place smells like horse shit”.
The two women looked at him with completely different looks:
Visenya with her stern beauty, her beautiful pale hair braided, she looked so much like Aegon, he could see himself in her eyes, that day they were filled with sorrow, a deep rooted one, matching her black mourning outfit. 

Rhaenys was as beautiful as a summer day and in her eyes only love and play, she was the living image of youth and cheerfulness, even in that moment. She was wearing a gown as red as blood, one of Visenya’s dresses which was not common for her, maybe she wanted to feel closer to her older sister, it looked completely different on her, hugging all her curves so tightly he was sure it would leave some marks. For all the gods he hoped so.

“Kessa ziry gaomas, skoros isse se sīkudi nopāzmi issi gaomā kesīr”.
(yes it does, what in the seven hells are you doing here).
Rhaenys asked with a small smile on her face, she was hoping he followed them, Aegon knew how to read that wicked little woman very well.
“Eman daor hae iā sȳz valzȳrys nor hae iā sȳz lēkia”.
(I have not behaved like a good husband nor like a good brother).

He was being nice with himself, he deserved worse words, worse actions, after what he had done the past few days.

“Eman qringaomatan hae iā jentys syt nyke gōntan daor gīmigon skorkydoso naejot laehurlion adversities.  Īlva kepa's morghon iksin overwhelming naejot nyke”.
(I have failed as a leader because I did not know how to face adversities. Our father's death was overwhelming to me).

Visenya looked at her sister with fear. Aegon knew on that moment, she had not confessed their lie, Rhaenys still believed that he killed their father and it shall remain so.

“I understand…”.
“No, Visenya, you should not understand. I have behaved like a cunt with you. There is no other word to describe it”.
“I mean… It is not like I am guiltless either”.
“Regardless, I miss you too much, the bare idea of not seeing you two every day hurts. I am more than ready to turn a new leaf, to pretend this has not happened. If that means I will have you by my side again”.

Aegon was unsure if he actually meant those words. He did miss his sisters more than life itself but could he really forgive what had happened?.
He feared it was going to become a rotten spot inside of him, waiting to corrupt every part of his heart.

“Besides, what great leader abandons their family when he is most needed? How am I supposed to build a dynasty if I cannot lead you?”
There was a heavy silence between the three siblings. Rhaenys sighed heavily, she raised her hands in a sign of rendition.
“ Lēkia, iksā daor supposed naejot jemagon īlva yn naejot jemagon lēda īlva”.
(Brother, you are not supposed to lead us but to lead with us).
“ Ao daor emagon se weight hen vys va aōha shoulders, kosti se burden”.
(You cannot have the weight of the world on your shoulders, we must share the burden).

Aegon felt like a child being hugged by his mother once more. He felt silly doing so but he ran into his sisters’ embrace.
He felt whole again. He had not realised he missed a piece of his heart.
Two to be more exact.
He wished they could only be like this, always entangled in each other's arms.

Three bodies. One soul. One heart. As it always should have been.

Aegon dreamt of the iron throne once again that night but this time there was no ice around him.

The princess made of fire and ash sat on the iron throne, Aegon could finally see her, up close, for the first time. She was so young, barely a child grown, she had short pale hair, filled with silver bells and purple eyes that looked like precious amethyst.
Valyrian no doubt.
She looked so much like Rhaenys, a bit taller perhaps and skinnier. She seemed too young and fragile to be sitting in such a mighty throne but her eyes were filled with a deep magic, something that intimidated Aegon himself.

The dragon of wool was on her right side, his scales were knitted with deep blue threads, mixed with silver, his eyes were two buttons of a pale purple colour. The dragon had a golden chain around his neck with a small sigil in red with a black dragon at its centre. He looked fierce, if he had not been the shape of a giant toy, Aegon would have thought he would breathe fire at any minute. And yet, he felt out of place in many ways, not real in comparison to the people made of flesh and bones next to him.

On the left side there was a creature with a wolf face.
It was an eerie image.
His body was the one of a man just like Aegon’s, not much taller. He was dressed all in black, like a crow, with a sword tied to his side. Just like him, the sword had a wolf shaped head.
He had red eyes and his fur was white as a ghost.
For the first time in his dream, Aegon became afraid of something, of him. He took a step back and saw something on the creature’s hand. 

He was holding a blue rose.

Aegon had seen that symbol before somewhere, in another one of his dreams. He had a vague memory, when they were travelling through Dorne. He dreamt of a bloody bed filled with blue roses.
It was all connected.
It had always been.

Suddenly a thunder broke the painful silence that fell over them. 

A dragon, bigger than any Aegon had seen before appeared. It was red, almost as much as Rhaenys’s dress that afternoon. Red as wine and blood.

It had three heads.

Aegon woke up covered in cold sweat. He looked at each of his sisters, completely bare, one on each side of him, just like the two creatures protected the little girl.
“Lēkia, skoros iksis ziry?”. (Brother, what is it?).
Visenya muttered, still half asleep.
“Nothing, my love. I just have found a much needed clarity”.

Four days later Sir Orys returned with the copies of their maps. They had a meeting the same afternoon he returned. For some reason they all dressed in armour, it felt appropriate perhap, for they were going to talk of battle. Even their grandfather, who did not know what awaited him at that meeting, wore it. There was something in the air, heavy and unspeakable. War and conquest.

Aegon caressed the table in front of him with care.

“When did you order it?” His grandfather asked.
“Right when we came back, before father disappeared. A carpenter from Driftmark, someone who makes your ships”.
He knew that sent a shiver right to his grandfather’s spine. If he had been able to make that without him even noticing, what else could he be plotting.
Aegon liked that. If he was going to be king of the West, he needed people to obey him and to know what they were capable of.

It was a wooden table, carved with an extraordinary craft, it was made from one solid piece of wood and it replicated perfectly well the map of the so called Seven Kingdoms.
Aegon could feel and touch every mountain, every river, every coast and most importantly every ancestral house that was going to try to stop them.

He looked at his sister Visenya on his left, Rhaenys on his right, Sir Orys at the door preventing anyone from entering or getting out and the Lord of the Tides with a terrified look on his face.
Aegon took a deep breath.

“Shall we begin?”.

Chapter Text

It was the happiest day for King Torrhen, for his wife had given him a healthy baby girl. After five sons, who were his pride but also the reason for each and every one of his headaches, finally he had a girl.

“How are we going to name her?”. His wife whispered, still exhausted from birth, she was covered in sweat and her face was all red from exhaustion.
Poor thing, how much he loved her. There was not a more beautiful woman in his eyes at that moment. Only perhaps their daughter.
“What were you thinking, my dearest?”.
“Well, I was hoping we could name her after my late mother Alys”.
“Then Alys she shall be. Princess Alys Stark”.

He ran downstairs like a young boy, he felt like a young squire again, that little boy who was all shy meeting his fiancée and now she had given him a daughter.

Oh what a blessing.
How fortunate he was.

“Roose, send my command to all of my bannerman I want the bells of every seat in the north to ring the bells to welcome our new princess”  The servant smiled, nodding softly. Everyone seemed to share his joy.

One of his ministers, his brother in law, Lord Brandon Karstark waited for him in his private chambers. He was alone, that was odd but the old king thought that perhaps he only wanted news of his sister.

“It is a girl, Brandon! Finally! After those five beasts I have. Her majesty the queen is absolutely fine, she will be in good shape in no time”.
“I am more than glad to hear that, however, I have not so exciting news”.
“Why today from all days…” The king whispered.

He was getting too old for that, he only wanted to sit back and raise his daughter, was that too much to ask? Weren’t the ancient gods too cruel with him for not giving him one whole day of leisure?.

“What is it now? It better be important to not be able to wait till tomorrow”:
“It is, sire. Your brother, the lord commander, is here”.

For all the gods old and new. His brother never brought good news.

Black wings, black words could also be applied to the watchers on the wall. His brother in particular. 
He had left to serve in the far north when he was barely a toddler, after their parents died. Torrhen did not miss him, not a day, he was as cold as the ice there, he seemed to have mimicked his surroundings well.

“What does Osric want now? If some of his cadets have run away again, it is his problem. I will not send men to follow those crows around any more. The night’s watch should worry about itself".
“No sire, I am afraid it is much more grave. Three moons ago he sent some ranges north of the wall, he said it was routine work but the lads never came back. A moon back, they saw something approaching the wall, it was one of the boys, half his body at least, something had destroyed him, from the inside out limb to limb. I am sure he could describe it in much more detail”.
“Oh I am certain of that. Go on”.
“He sent more men, three experienced rangers to find out what happened, only two returned, they said to have been attacked by their own men, they said they turned into something evil, something unspeakable. The Lord commander did not tell me more, he said the rest only his majesty could listen to”.

Torrhen’s mouth suddenly went dry. There was no more joy, no place for celebration.

“Where is him?”.
“In the library, sire”.

He could not believe it, he had heard stories of course, more than whispers but they seemed legends, so far from them. It had been a thousand years since something like that happened.
His brother was a sight to see, much younger than him and yet he looked elderly with his hair all white and his face full of old scars.
“It was about bloody time. What took you so long?”. Dressed all in black, always ready for a funeral, Torrhen used to joke. In that moment he was frightened of even looking at him. 

Him and his crow’s uniform.

“I just became a father”.
“Again? How many more pups you intend to have? Isn't the good queen too old for this shit?”.
“It is none of your business and you better hold your tongue when speaking of my wife!. What is this nonsense you have told my good brother in law?”.

The Lord Commander took a deep breath, he was sitting by the window, looking outside with a sadden look.

“Speak Osric!”.
“I went back to the place where the two lads were attacked. Last week. Me and five of my most experienced men. They tried to refuse, they were terrified to say the least. At first I thought they were being frightened little cunts”. He seemed to doubt what to say next. “It was an ambush, a fog surrounded us. I took four of my men and ran back towards the wall, we were not far. They had never attacked this close…”.
“Osric… brother.. What did attack you”.
“We have a horn, father explained this to you, right? To warn each other of the type of danger ahead of us. One of the other men blew it, I do not know if it was one of the poor lads, they got lost in the mist, I could hear their cries, then the horn, then silence”.
Torrhen poured two cups of drink, he was starting to suspect he would need it.
“Yes, father did mention it, a hundred times at least. One blast for returning ranger, two blasts for wildlings and then no one has used three blasts in a thousand years”.
“But you know what they mean, don’t you”.

Three blasts of the horn marked the unknown.
The Others.

“They are coming, brother”.

White walkers.

Chapter Text

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57465580/chapters/146202382