Of Magic, Fire, Blood and Ice

17

Dream

It felt like a dream he had once not too long a time ago. He on a Dragon's back riding above the clouds, sharp cold wind cutting his cheeks.

A scream of elation echoed between the clouds, he later realized it was his. He had never thought he would be riding a Dragon but today not only was he high up in the clouds but that too on Balerion's back.

Almost two decades ago he thought he had lost everyone but then came Elia followed by Daenerys and Visenya.

The pain of losing Rhaenerys and Aegon never left him and Elia, they mourned for their two children. But Rhaegar's grief was greater; he had held himself responsible for their deaths and also of Lyanna and Jaehaerys. He had lost his best friend Arthur too.

Meeting Elia and his sisters alleviated some of the sadness but for a long time he could not bring himself to meet Elia's eyes. Even though she had told him time and time again that it was not his fault Rhaegar did not absolve himself. His union with Lyanna was with prior knowledge of Elia. Rhaegar had had tunnel vision when it had come to that prophecy. The damned prophecy of the Prince Who Was Promised made him believe he needed a Visenya for his Aegon and Rhaenerys.

The prophecy was his downfall. It was a miracle Elia forgave him.

Meeting Jon was like a dream. His son had not only survived but thrived too. He had made powerful allies and his chosen Rayne; she was the best girl he could ask for his son. She had given their house their biggest treasure; Dragons.

High up above the clouds Rhaegar felt free, he was finally happy with his life and free of all his troubles.

Balerion, the legend reborn, he had chosen Rhaegar as his rider. His black leathery wings were open as they sailed over the clouds.

He had thought the rumors of Balerion's size were over exaggerated but seeing him side by side Rhaegal, the previous largest Dragon all doubts were erased Balerion stood three times as large as Rhaegal.

His black scales and ruby red eyes would soon become the hero of his enemies' nightmares.

. . .

. . .

. . .

With the first breath that Balerion took a great wave of magic spread all through the world. The glass candles in Oldtown lit confusing the Maesters. Far in Qarth the warlocks felt the presence of magic deep in their veins.

Deep in the hidden mountains of the Land of Always Winter on a throne of sat a human block of ice. Feeling the wave of magic his crystal blue eyes opened.

After eight thousand years he could feel magic again, he could manipulate it.

For the first time in eight thousand years he felt powerful.

. . .

. . .

. . .

News came to them at the earliest by Varys. Jon Arryn was dead. The entire realm thought him to be dead of old age but only a select few knew the truth. He was killed by his own wife. Working with Peter Baelish she had killed her own husband; she did this all for a man who lusted after her sister.

Jon's death had many repercussions, Robert blinded with his love for the Starks asked Ned to be his hand but Ned refused saying he would like to go back North soon and that he thought himself a woefully inept replacement for Jon's post. The real reason for the refusal being that Ned did not want to be the part of the Lannister and Baratheon brigade when the Targaryens would come with their dragons to Kings Landing.