A White Dragon's Legacy - Prologue. (Patreon)

Viserys Targaryen, the Red Keep – Seconds before his Death.

"Aemma... my love," whispered the king, in what was evidently his final breath of life, followed by the whisper of the voice that had tormented him for decades.

The voice of his beloved wife was calling him toward the light.

"Aemma... Aemma!" shouted Viserys desperately, trying to reach the voice of his beloved wife.

An overwhelming sensation of flames invaded the former King of Westeros, an unbearable pressure in his chest, while Viserys felt as though an invisible force were pulling him.

"Viserys... Viserys... Viserys!" said his wife's voice, which sounded closer and closer, now only a few meters away.

"Aemma! Aemma!" cried the King as the light became so bright that it was impossible to see, the pain in his chest becoming unbearable, but Viserys was accustomed to pain.

And to see his beloved Aemma...

He would endure anything.

The stubborn king released a roar as the light threatened to burn his very essence, his steps never faltered and he simply continued onward, enduring pain and agony.

And then...

Viserys Targaryen awoke.

"AHHHHHHG!" screamed the monarch, awakening in desperation upon some kind of... stone platform. Valyrian runes and dragonglass pillars glowed softly around him, while his disoriented mind struggled to calm itself.

"Aemma! Aemma!" shouted Viserys out of his mind, while a pair of masculine and... familiar hands helped him regain his bearings.

"Easy, son, easy, the worst has already passed," said a voice he had not heard in years.

Viserys focused his gaze upon the man holding him, gasping as he found himself face to face with none other than Prince Baelon Targaryen.

His beloved father.

"Kepa..."

Prince Baelon smiled calmly, his gaze both happy and sad at the same time.

"I am glad to see you, son. It has been a long time," said his father, helping him to his feet.

"Where are we? We are dead, aren't we? Where is Aemma? I heard her... I..." said Viserys desperately.

"Easy, Viserys, everything will be explained. Come, son, they are waiting for us," said Prince Baelon with the most forced smile Viserys had ever seen.

Yet the king followed his beloved father without question, leaving behind the strange chamber with the platform and entering an immense and luxurious corridor.

The walls were completely unlike anything he was accustomed to. Truly, this place was the strangest he had ever seen.

"Kepa, what is happening? Is this the afterlife? What happened to us?"

But Prince Baelon did not answer. He simply continued onward until they arrived before an immense double door.

It was made of wood and stood at least ten meters tall.

Truly titanic.

"Please behave yourself, son. I know that... what you are about to see may come as a true shock, but... everything will be explained," said his father as he pushed open the heavy doors, revealing a colossal hall.

Everything around him was luxury.

Enormous pillars shaped like dragons.

Yet the architecture was not Valyrian, but...

Entirely unfamiliar.

Something never before seen.

At the far end of the room, Viserys stared in amazement as a colossal mural dominated the entire chamber.

It was shaped like a tree, with dozens of extremely familiar names emerging from one particular name.

Aegon I.

The clever king quickly deduced what it was.

It was a family tree of House Targaryen.

Yet any thought regarding the mural vanished when he heard a painful feminine voice.

One he had missed greatly throughout his entire life.

"Visi, my love, I am glad to see you."

The breath left the former monarch as his gaze fell upon his beloved mother.

The mismatched eyes of Princess Alyssa greeted him.

Her warm face and maternal smile instantly shattered the mature man.

"Muna..." he whispered in a trembling voice, while a sensation in his chest threatened to overwhelm him, and without thinking he threw himself into the arms of his beloved mother for the first time in decades.

Princess Alyssa's arms embraced Viserys tightly without hesitation.

"My beloved son, my sweet boy," whispered the princess, while tears threatened to emerge from her eyes.

Until the tender moment was interrupted by an old and familiar voice.

"Take a seat, Viserys. We must continue," said the voice of King Jaehaerys, as powerful as he remembered it.

But Viserys did not care about the order.

He simply continued embracing his mother for what felt like hours.

"I have missed you so much, Muna," said Viserys, while his mother's hands caressed his face.

"Come now, Visi, we must continue," said Princess Alyssa as she took her beloved son's hand and slowly led him toward the center of the room.

Where, to Viserys' astonishment, familiar faces awaited him.

His grandfather and grandmother looked at him with very different expressions, Alysanne with her characteristic smile, while Jaehaerys looked at him with disappointment and barely concealed fury.

"You have finally arrived. It is time to see the damned disaster you left behind with your stupid actions," snapped Jaehaerys I, shocking Viserys with surprise.

Quickly, both his father and mother came to his defense, like the fierce dragons they were.

"Do not dare speak to him like that. You are the least qualified person here to speak of mistakes made in life, as all of us present can clearly attest," snapped his mother, silencing his grandfather and giving Viserys enough time to look around.

There were... more Targaryens than Viserys had ever seen in his life.

The king vaguely recognized Aemon Targaryen, his father's brother, who was looking toward Jaehaerys with barely concealed contempt. He was also able to recognize those who could only be Princess Viserra and Princess Gael, quietly speaking together away from everyone else. His Aunt Gael held a small bundle within her arms.

And then...

Viserys' gaze focused upon another part of the room, causing the breath to once again leave his lungs.

There she was.

His beloved Aemma in all her glory.

Beautiful and ethereal.

Cradling within her arms what could only be his son Baelon.

"Aemma..." whispered Viserys, while attempting to walk toward where his family stood.

Only to be interrupted by a cold feminine voice filled with hatred and utter contempt toward his presence.

"Stay away from my daughter, you wretched cockroach!" shouted a voice unknown to Viserys, shocking the former monarch.

"We all saw what you did! What you ordered that damned maester to do to her... if you ever go near her again..." threatened the furious Princess Daella, while embracing her daughter with the ferocity of a dragoness.

Viserys came to an abrupt halt, feeling terrible regret and guilt for his horrific actions.

"I... I..." he tried to speak, but the words simply failed him.

"Just stay away from my daughter and my grandson," snapped the princess, causing Viserys to frown as his own temper began to surface.

He had missed his wife and his son.

And he would not allow anything or anyone to prevent him from reuniting with them.

Viserys opened his mouth to speak...

When it happened.

The central table within the immense hall illuminated, causing a huge crystal sphere to slowly rise into the air, lighting up little by little.

"Take your seats. It has begun," ordered King Jaehaerys, staring at the immense sphere with almost obsessive attention.

Something that, Viserys noticed, everyone else around him was doing as well.

"What is happening? What is going on?" demanded Viserys in confusion.

At least until his father took him by the arm and guided him toward one of the seats.

"You will know soon enough, son. Sit down and... be strong. You are going to need it."

Viserys did not understand his father's words.

At least not in that moment.

Alas, fate was cruel...

And soon he would find out.

The consequences of his weakness...

Were about to begin.

Rhaenyra Targaryen, Somewhen, Somewhere.

"AHHHHHHHG!" screamed the Realm's Delight as she quickly brought her hand to her chest, utterly terrified and horrified.

The Queen began breathing rapidly, completely disoriented, at least until a sweet familiar voice called for her attention.

"Nyra, my love... everything is alright... it is over now, easy!" said the voice of her beloved mother, whom Nyra had missed...

So much.

"Muna... Muna..." said the exhausted woman, unable to hold back her tears, all the frustration, pain and agony that Rhaenyra had endured throughout her life emerging now that she was safe within the arms of her beloved mother.

"Muna... my children... my little ones," whispered Rhaenyra, clinging to Queen Aemma with all her strength.

The queen embraced her daughter just as tightly, comforting her without hesitation.

"Easy now, my love. They are all here. Brave Lucerys, gallant Jacaerys and fearless Joffrey. They are all waiting for you, my love. Come..." said her beloved mother softly, helping Rhaenyra to her feet.

Rhaenyra looked around with complete astonishment.

"Where are we? The last thing I remember was... the dagger, my chest... and Sunfyre," she whispered, trembling at the mere memory of the execution Aegon had condemned her to.

Queen Aemma smiled gently before responding.

"All suffering has ended, my love. You will suffer no more... they are all waiting for you. Your father, your brother Baelon, and all your little ones," said the queen with a radiant smile, filling Rhaenyra with immense relief.

Everything...

Everything was finally over.

No more damned Throne.

No more blood.

No more suffering.

Only...

Peace.

The Dragon Queen tightly took her mother's hand as the two walked through an immense corridor until they reached a vast hall filled with more than familiar faces.

"MUNA!"

"RHAENYRA!"

The overwhelmed queen was literally tackled by all of her little ones, making her laugh with immense happiness.

Tears threatened to emerge from her eyes as she looked around her.

And all she saw were Targaryens.

Old and young alike.

Rhaenyra's heart tightened with regret as she watched her nephew Jaehaerys playing with little Daenerys, completely happy and innocent.

Rhaenyra looked directly toward Princess Rhaenys, who stood holding the hand of who could only be Prince Aemon, surrounded by Laena and Laenor.

All three nodded toward her in greeting.

On the other side of the room, Rhaenyra looked with absolute contempt at the damned kinslayer, who stood apart from everyone else, his arms crossed and looking at her impassively.

The challenge in his gaze was more than evident.

Merely looking at him made Rhaenyra's dragon blood threaten to emerge.

"My beloved daughter, it is all over now. You are... you are safe," said her father, embracing her with a strength that King Viserys had not possessed since his youth.

"Kepa? What is happening? Where are we?" asked the confused queen, observing how everyone around her looked at her with various emotions, pity and disappointment being the most common.

"And Daemon?" asked Rhaenyra, causing everyone to fall silent.

After all, her husband had died before her.

The news of the duel between Caraxes and Vhagar had reached the entire realm, and if Aemond was here, then her husband should be here as well.

Everyone present exchanged hesitant glances for some strange reason, causing Rhaenyra to frown in annoyance.

"Where is Daemon? I desire explanations regarding certain... actions," she snapped furiously.

And the answer came from the person she least expected.

Her half-brother Aemond.

"Use your damned brain for once in your life, you stupid cunt. You are in a place where all dead Targaryens reside, and if our uncle is not here..." said the last rider of Vhagar in a cold tone, yet one filled with reason.

"It is because he defeated you and lived to tell the tale, brother," said Rhaenyra in a vindictive tone, enjoying the way Aemond frowned with fury.

Until her father intervened.

"ENOUGH! YOU ARE DAMNED SIBLINGS! ARE YOU NOT SATISFIED WITH THE DAMNED DISASTER YOU CAUSED?" shouted Viserys, glaring at both of them with overwhelming fury, causing both Rhaenyra and Aemond to back down.

At least for the moment.

"Where are we, Kepa?" asked Rhaenyra, still clinging to her children and mother.

Her question made King Viserys sigh heavily.

"That... is a long story. But take a seat, daughter. This... will take a while."

Rhaenyra frowned and obeyed, although she felt her father was exaggerating.

How wrong she was.

Baelor "Breakspear" Targaryen, Somewhere, Somewhen.

"Uncle Baelor!" shouted his beloved nephew.

Gone was the small and cheerful prince, replaced instead by the infamous King Aegon V, the Unlikely.

"It is good to see you, Egg," said Baelor with a radiant smile, happy to witness the reunion between his brother and his son.

"Oh look, Aegon V the idiot! The one who burned Summerhall, hahaha!" laughed his nephew Aerion maliciously, looking at his younger brother with obvious amusement.

Aegon did not hesitate to respond, looking directly at Aerion.

"At least I was not the mad fool who drank wildfire thinking it would turn him into a dragon," mocked Egg, causing more than half of the hall filled with Targaryens to laugh loudly and making Aerion frown in fury.

"ENOUGH, BOTH OF YOU!" roared his brother, silencing the entire hall.

Beside him, his father Daeron laughed softly and looked at Maekar with pride.

"He always had strong lungs. Ill-tempered and stubborn since childhood. He would always cry whenever your mother tried to leave him in his cradle, hahaha," said his father with amusement, watching as Maekar attempted to control all of his children.

Without evident success.

"The ancestors are looking at us with suspicion," said Baelor cautiously, observing how Jaehaerys, Baelor and Aemon continued to stare at them with frowns upon their faces.

"I understand that your mother's family gave them quite a beating. I imagine seeing House Targaryen and House Martell united must have been... difficult," said King Daeron with amusement.

"It is something that never should have happened. I cannot believe my descendants mingled with Dornishmen of all people," snapped King Jaehaerys with evident indignation, causing both Daeron and Baelor to roll their eyes.

His father was about to respond when the great tree, as everyone had begun calling the mural displaying the family tree, moved once more.

The crown that had previously rested upon the name of Aegon V passed to his son, Jaehaerys II.

At the same time, the sphere illuminated once more, displaying the coronation of Aegon's son.

Who apparently was not going to last very long, considering the... sickly condition he appeared to be in.

And although Baelor had the courtesy not to say anything, the rest of the Targaryens of old were not nearly so merciful.

"That Jaehaerys looks as though he is about to break apart. He can barely stand. How in the hell is he supposed to rule?" asked Daeron I, utterly incredulous at the pathetic sight of the current Targaryen monarch.

"Silence, for fuck's sake. We need to see where this leads. The political situation is terrible, our House is weak. There must be no discord and no lowering of our guard," said King Jaehaerys I, his full attention focused upon the events unfolding.

And Baelor agreed.

The entire hall watched in silence the... frankly pathetic years of King Jaehaerys' reign, until his expected death caused the crown to pass to the next name.

"Aerys II," said his brother Aerys, looking curiously toward the sphere.

"I am sure he will be a king every bit as wise as you were, brother," said Baelor with a smile, causing Aerys to return one of his own.

The closeness between the brothers was more than evident.

To the obvious envy of many of their ancestors.

Alas...

It seemed fate was cruel.

And everyone watched as little by little, Aerys Targaryen transformed into the most infamous king of the entire Targaryen dynasty.

"What in the hell is he doing? Damn it, they are going to get him killed!" snapped Princess Rhaenyra, shaking her head as she watched the foolish king burn alive anyone who contradicted him, many times without trial.

"We are fucked, truly fucked!" snapped Baelon Targaryen with a heavy sigh, while Viserys I attempted to comfort him.

The rest of the family watched helplessly as Aerys II descended into madness.

They witnessed the disaster of Duskendale and how a handsome and promising king slowly descended into little more than an animal.

They watched Prince Rhaegar, promising and intelligent, his Dornish wife, the questionable actions at Harrenhal, and finally the culmination.

The point where everyone knew perfectly well that House Targaryen had gone completely to shit.

The execution of Lord Stark and his heir.

"We are done, there is no way to save this" whispered his father with a heavy sigh, knowing that the execution of Rickard Stark could only mean one thing.

War.

House Stark rose in rebellion, alongside Houses Baratheon and Arryn, and although it was an idea everyone detested, nobody could truly blame them.

"Damned traitors! They should all burn for this treason!" snapped Aerion furiously, pacing like a caged dragon.

Only to release a cry of pain when a golden goblet struck him directly in the face, courtesy of Princess Daena, the mother of Daemon Blackfyre himself.

"Shut your damned mouth, idiot. A Lord of the Realm and his heir were executed, and not just any Lord, a bloody Stark, the one kingdom we were always warned never to provoke. First the idiot prince runs away with the Stark girl, and to top off the entire damned situation, that animal calling himself king executes her father. We are fucked, very fucked," she snapped fiercely.

Causing a large portion of those present in the hall to nod in agreement.

The Conciliator had his face buried in his hands, while the Good Queen gently rubbed his back.

The faces of everyone present were filled with consternation.

All of them knew that without dragons, they would never be able to stop the Northmen.

The sphere showed everything.

How Eddard Stark, the Quiet Wolf, descended with all the ferocity and lethality of winter, exterminating every last man of the army commanded by the inept Connington.

They watched as the Tullys changed cloaks, smelling the blood of the wounded dragon.

And finally, they witnessed the fall of Prince Rhaegar at the Battle of the Trident.

"Rhaegar fights with ferocity and skill. A great warrior," said King Viserys I.

Causing Daeron I to snort and respond.

"But Robert is a demon. This fight is over," he said with certainty.

Only to watch as the stag's hammer smashed into the chest of the last dragon.

Nodding to himself.

"But the damned stag did not leave unscathed," said Maekar with satisfaction, watching with pleasure as a very wounded Robert Baratheon had to be assisted back to his tent, incapable of even holding his own hammer.

At this point, everyone knew exactly what was going to happen.

Rhaegar was the last hope.

And with him dead...

The House of the Dragon was doomed.

"The Lannisters changed cloaks. What a surprise," snapped Rhaenyra Targaryen, looking with contempt toward where Aegon II sat eating and drinking in complete tranquility, truly paying no attention to his half-sister.

They watched the sack of King's Landing.

They watched the siege of the Red Keep.

And they watched as Jaime Lannister drove his sword into the back of the beast, who apparently wanted to burn the entire fucking city.

"Well, at least there is one knight who honored his oath," snapped her nephew Egg, looking upon Aerys' corpse with immense satisfaction.

At least...

Until the scene changed.

Showing the bloodied bodies of Princess Elia, as well as little Aegon and little Rhaenys.

At the same time, their names faded from the family tree.

And with them...

The tree itself.

It was official.

House Targaryen was dead.

Without heirs.

Only a widow and an infant remained, and the infant probably would not survive much longer to be honest.

The reign of the dragon was over.

And everyone in the damned hall fell silent, incapable of processing what had happened.

The flame of the family tree had gone out.

The dragons guarding the tree simply extinguished themselves.

And everything around them began to feel...

Simply cold.

"It seems we have reached the end," said Baelor with mixed emotions, while everyone else remained silent.

Nobody knew what the hell to say.

There were simply no words.

The rebellion had been justified.

And House Targaryen was...

Officially...

Extinct.

Until...

"Oh... what is that?" said little Daenerys, pointing toward the mural.

Causing everyone present to look quickly.

Sighing with relief and hope as they watched a new branch emerge from the name of Rhaegar Targaryen.

A small branch.

But alive.

Allowing the guardian dragons to breathe once more.

It was...

Erratic and weak.

But there was life.

And there was also a name.

"Aemon Targaryen, the White Dragon," read Baelor aloud for everyone present.

The faces of each and every one of the Targaryens of old lit up as the sphere illuminated once more.

And a new image began to be projected.

Some expected King's Landing or perhaps even Dragonstone...

But what they received instead was...

"Winterfell? What the hell are we doing in Winterfell?" snapped Aerion in disbelief, only to let out a grunt as Maekar struck him.

The image changed, now displaying an unknown young man.

He dressed like a Stark and looked like one as well, possessing black wavy hair and gray eyes.

Quite handsome, judging by the looks and sighs that many of the Targaryen maidens had released merely from seeing him.

"Oh, by the Gods... they certainly did not make them like that in my youth," said Queen Helaena, staring at the frankly handsome young man with hearts in her eyes.

"So... this is Aemon Targaryen. He carries the bearing of a King, but what in the hell is he doing in Winterfell?" asked Viserys I.

And the answer came from his father, who had already taken his seat and devoted his full attention to the new story.

"That is what we are about to discover. It seems a new adventure is beginning."

And Baelor knew his father was not mistaken.

The journey of the White Dragon...

Had begun.