prologue

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[ THE  ASHES  AND  BLOOD ]

Before Viserys Targaryen married Aemma of House Arryn, who bore him a daughter, Rhaenyra Targaryen, he had previously had a wife to whom he had given his heart completely. Lyanna Stark was born as the third child (and last to survive infancy) of Lord Cregan Stark and his wife, Lady Myriah. A year after their wedding, Princess Lyanna was locked in birthing chambers and forced to give birth to her first child. The pain that accompanied her throughout the birth was numbing and took over her entire body. In the last seconds of her life, Lyanna pushed the baby out of her, and moments later she sank back into the pillows, her eyes fluttering one last time.

When Viserys reached the birthing chambers and saw the state of his beloved wife, he howled loudly and clutched at his heart. Behind him, the guardsmen rushed forward to catch their prince and save him from his impending fall, but he rushed forward and fell to the ground, touching his beloved's face with his hands. She was cold, and her eyes were fixed on a single point, the earlier fire gone from them, leaving only coldness.

She was dead. Viserys was devastated. Lyanna was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, to have many children and live to a ripe old age to watch their grandchildren and great-grandchildren play. Unfortunately, the gods had other plans for them, and Viserys chose to accept their will and not oppose them, too afraid of their wrath directed at him.

"My prince," the maester's soft voice brought him back to reality. Viserys slowly lifted his head, looking at the aging man who had spent most of his life in the Citadel, and now stood before him in blood-stained robes, holding a child in his arms, crying silently. "You have a healthy daughter." he informed the young man, whose eyes widened.

"A girl?" the maester nodded. At the same time, the well-known Princess Alyssa Targaryen, the mother of Prince Viserys, his younger brother and the child who was now in the princess's stomach, burst into the chamber. "Show me the baby," she commanded in a soft voice. Viserys buried his face in his beloved's dark hair again, while his mother cooed happily to the baby and the new Targaryen. "What's her name?" she asked looking at her son.

"She's dead," he choked out as he wrapped his arms around Lyanna Stark's lifeless body, his body shaking with sobs. Alyssa's heart sank at the sight of her broken son. She knew how much he loved the Northern girl, and she knew that now that he had lost her, his heart was broken. "I know it hurts, my son. But Lyanna Stark has passed away giving us this wonderful girl. I also know that your wife wouldn't like to see you broken. You must overcome the pain and take care of your daughter. She needs you, Viserys," she said gently.

Alyssa's eldest son looked up at his mother and the baby she held in her arms. The girl moved her little limbs and Alyssa smiled softly at the baby, then looked at her son. Tears streamed down his face, but he found the strength to get up off the ground and get closer to the two most important women in his life. He held out his arms for Alyssa to carefully place the baby in her father's arms. The girl began to move under the golden blanket in which she was wrapped a few seconds after being cleaned by the midwives. Viserys pulled her closer to his chest and looked at her gently. He could already see the little silver hairs on her head, the little nose she had inherited from her mother, and the plump cheeks. And when she opened her eyes to look at her father, Viserys sucked in a whistling breath. She had blue eyes like clear sky, exactly the same as her mother had. At the sight, Alyssa and Viserys' hearts clenched again.

"What is her name?" Alyssa asked again, placing a hand on her eldest son's shoulder. Viserys looked at his mother, who nodded to him, then shifted his gaze to the face of his daughter, the only remnant of his dead wife. "Daenerys of Houses Stark and Targaryen," he announced, and bells could be heard ringing outside.

Seated in the Small Council, King Jaehaerys I Targaryen, also known as the Old King, listened carefully to the complaints of the lords about the actions of petty criminals in the Realm - they took advantage of the fact that the king was too old to ride his dragon, Vermithor, and could no longer instill fear among the criminals who took to the streets of King's Landing. The deliberations of the Small Council continued until all the gentlemen heard loudly ringing bells. The king looked out the window as the sun began to set, and he knew it was a day of mourning. Seated beside him, Prince Baelon Targaryen looked at his father as he stood up and left the room, the prince joining him only two seconds later. The members of the Small Council rose from their chairs to give the king and prince a proper farewell, and as they both left, the lords sank back into their chairs and began planning another marriage for Prince Viserys, who had just lost his wife.

When the King reached the birthing chambers, he was greeted by the sight of his family gathered around the bed where Lyanna Targaryen of Winterfell, a wonderful wife and mother, was still lying, her body half covered by a white sheet. Her face began to lose its natural color, her eyes were closed and covered with two gold coins. Prince Baelon immediately approached his pregnant wife and two sons. The youngest of the princes, Daemon Targaryen clung to his mother's side and sobbed silently as everyone watched as the grand maester bent over the prince's dead wife and pulled a white sheet over her face.

"May she rest in peace," King Jaehaerys said softly, bowing his head as everyone else joined him. After a short prayer to the gods, the King of the Seven Kingdoms looked at his eldest male grandson, who was still staring at Lyanna covered with a white sheet, his daughter safely placed in his arms. "May the gods never lose sight of Princess Daenerys Targaryen, The Princess of Ice and Fire," he added, causing everyone's eyes to go to the newest Targaryen. Prince Baelon bent down and picked up his youngest son so he too could look at his niece, but he didn't want to. Not when that child had taken Lyanna from them.

Meanwhile, in the North, the Starks received a raven from the maester, who notified Lord Cregan Stark and his wife of the death of their youngest daughter. Lady Myriah's pained scream could be heard even in the courtyard where her eldest son was training with his younger sister. Brandon looked toward the tower where the scream had come from, and soon after that mourning bells were heard in Winterfell. Arya Stark fell to the ground, sobbing loudly into her brother's chest as he pulled her body into his muscular chest. Their sweet little sister is dead. She died giving birth to her only child - a daughter whom Prince Viserys named Daenerys Targaryen. Born of ice and fire, the firstborn daughter of Viserys Targaryen and the future of the Realm.

THE ASHES AND BLOOD. . .daemon targaryenWhere stories live. Discover now