𝑽𝑨𝑮𝑨𝑩𝑶𝑵𝑫

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓸𝓯 𝓘𝓬𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓕𝓲𝓻𝓮

Our histories, they tell us, Aegon looked across the Blackwater from Dragonstone, saw land ripe for the capture, but ambition alone was not what drove him to conquest. It was a dream.

Just as Daenys foresaw the end of Valyria, Aegon foresaw the end of the world of men. It was to begin with a terrible winter, gusting out of the distant North. Aegon saw absolute darkness riding on those winds and whatever dwelled within will destroy the world of the living.

When that great winter comes, all of us, Westeros must stand against it. And if the world of men was to survive, a Targaryen must be seated on the Iron Throne. A king strong enough to unite the realm against the cold and the dark.

Aegon called his dream The Song of Ice and Fire. This secret, it has been passed down from king to heir since Aegon's time. Now you must promise to carry it and protect it.

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Foul words, whispered through desperate lips. In her eyes he saw not his mother, but a woman driven mad by empty prophecies. She believed those words so, that no truth in this world could convince her otherwise. How could she hold those words so closely, despite the utter hell they called their home?

No matter the pain, no matter the horror, she'd take his hands in her own and speak of the past, a past she had no place in, a past long since forgotten, a past long since buried beneath the heat.

To be named one and the same, yet different on all levels. Her obsession poured into him, all over him, into his very core. He could not evade it. He could not ignore it. Young he was, but this was all that he had ever known. His mother, her ancient prophecies, and his name.

From my blood, come The Prince That Was Promised and his will be The Song of Ice and Fire.

And a Prince he shall be.

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"You were born. Maybe the most destructive thing you have done to the world."

-SOULBOUND-