targaryen » d.m [2]

prologue

❝ Every time a Targaryen is born, the Gods flip a coin. ❞

The winds were harsh, blowing everything that was on its way, followed by the sharp, cold ice that pierced her skin like daggers.

She sat frozen on the Throne, watching the Others inch closer on their undead horses. The snow-covered Throne alone was cold enough to prevent her from taking any action... She could feel her heartbeat slowing, her soaked clothes making her shiver, her flesh turning purple and Death welcoming her with open arms.

"What do you want?" She muttered, her tears turning into ice.

'Somebody...'

"What do you want!?" The girl screamed louder.

The Others galloped faster towards (Y/n), making her stand up from the Throne. If she could run past them, she could make a run towards the gate... However, nothing but the white abyss of snow would be awaiting for her outside.

All they had to do was stretch her arm to take her. Letting a cry of desperation, the Last Targaryen stood up from the Throne making a run for the gate. She dared not look back, but the galloping of the horses were not far. All she had to do was reach the gate and 'hopefully', she'll be able to lose them.

'Help...'

Finally reaching the exit, she completely regretted it. As she stepped out, her legs sunk in the snow, almost covering her waist.

Death almost felt relieving.

With one arm, she clutched the egg, and with the other she helped herself through the snow. She blindly moved, feeling numb by the stinging ice. The cold wasn't kind to the weak.

It felt miles before her body gave in. (Y/n) was mentally and physically tired. Her back hit the cold bed of snow as the blanket of frost started to cover her body. The egg rested on her side, never letting it unprotected.

Her eyes were almost closed, letting the flakes kiss her lids.

She couldn't do anything when she heard the churning sound of steps circling her.

Barely conscious, she felt the egg being taken from her arm. With the strength she had left, she opened her eyes to see the Others examine it.

With stoic expressions, they looked at each other, disapproving.

The Night King intently stared at the egg, his grip getting tighter and tighter. (Y/n) wanted to scream, to tell it to stop, but the egg shattered into countless stones.

A cold hand was wrapped around her throat, making the knot that tied her life together almost snap. The egg was fake, those blue eyes angered, wanting the real one. How..? Who had the genuine one..?

'Get it over with,' she thought, too drained to speak, 'kill me.'

A smirk appeared on his white skin. Carelessly, he threw her, a piece of flesh ready to be discarded.

They walked away after giving her one last look, and rode their horses away from her.

(Y/n) Targaryen faced the sky blindly. Her mind was blank, she couldn't think, it was too much effort.

Finally, she closed her eyes.

Her heartbeat ceased.

"This is what will happen." Many whispers sounded in her mind.

"You were looking for a purpose in your life, you found it."

"Do you understand?" The whispers grew stronger in her head. If she was going to die, she wanted to die peacefully, not with voices within her.

A plethora of flashbacks sped in her mind, so many they were unable to identify each one of them resulting into a bright burning light, as her last second of life ended.

"Now you know what you need to do."

Nothing but white vastness could be seen, as there was no life left in that place.