Chapter 8: Wrong Side of the Coin

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Morgana appeared once more at the foot of her own statue, she felt less dizzy than she had the first two times 

Her marks were once again white as snow, signifying a restart of the clock. She had spent weeks almost months with Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys, but only days with Aegon ii. That meant that the clock varied wherever she was and she had no idea how long she'd be there for. 

Twice to love and lose was painful enough. She wondered if she stayed there long enough could she run out the clock? Could she wait it out, skip whatever her next doomed love would be? Or would the markings stay white until she fulfilled whatever she was meant to do here?

But then she felt it... 

Her magic hummed to life with a desperate rage. She felt a physical weight of anger she had never felt before. Her steel grey eyes closed, trying to focus on where her magic was telling her to go. Her eyes snapped open once more and she knew she was headed to war. 

She wordlessly transfigured her dress into her Auror uniform, black and deadly and ready for battle. She took a stone off the ground transfiguring it into her recognizable silver serpent's crown. The same one that was carved in stone, sat on the head of her marble counterpart. 

She didn't yet know what she was here for but she knew one thing, a lot of people were about to die.

The markings on her wrist were already beginning to fade grey, she would not be here long, a few days at most. But her senses warned her that she was here for battle. There was an already established bond drawing her in, telling her whoever was at the other end had met her before. 

She felt his pain, his torment, his humiliation. She felt him cry out to her down the bond and she knew he felt it come back to life, whoever he was. 

She apparated where her magic was telling her to go and prepared to go to war for a man she had not yet met. 





Tywin Lannister was at a loss. The people of Duskendale had kidnapped his friend and king, Aerys Targaryen. He stood outside the city gates an army at his back and yet if he wished for the king to live he could not approach. 

Tywin was the hand of the king, a damned good one at that. He was known for his fantastic strategies and political cunning and yet he had no idea what to do in this situation. 

He had no idea how to proceed.

The Lord Hand felt her presence before he saw her. The field of warriors and the people of Duskendale grew unnaturally quiet as they felt an ancient rage in the air. With a crack like lightning, she appeared, standing tall at the front of his army. 

The sky itself darkened under her anger. Her black onyx curls blew in the wind that had not been there moments prior. She was dressed in black, and though no armor clung to her curves it felt as if she didn't need it. All eyes fixed on the familiar serpent's crown that rested on her head and in that moment every one knew, the war was won. 

Because the Dragon Witch had just joined the fray, all should fear when the serpent goes to war. 

Tywin's eyes widened. He had not seen Morgana since his youth when she was with Aerys. Aerys was always obsessive about her, refusing to let anyone so much as look at her. But the few conversations he had with the ancient witch made one thing clear, she was not one of them. 

She was no mortal, she was bound to no king nor god, for she was her own ruler, her own god. She was peaceful and kind until she wasn't. 

All men fear what they do not understand and none could possibly understand the connection between a serpent and a dragon. 

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