The Time Curse (Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon Fanfic)

Chapter 30: Claiming the Dragon Witch

"I do." My nephew answered. I remember the look of adoration in his eyes as he did. He loved Morgana, he was in love with her. 

"Then by all the power in me, I name the King Aegon Targaryen, sixth of his name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. Conqueror of Essos and the Free Cities. Breaker of chains... All Hail King Aegon!" 

It all went by much fast after that. City after city bent the knee until the whole of Essos belonged to us. My Nephew was named the second Conqueror, and my sister was the mother of dragons. 

And like the first, Aegon had married once for duty and once for love. 

It had only taken a week for Daenerys and Aegon to approach Morgana and ask her to marry them. She smiled and kissed them and agreed. However, the Dragon witch requested they wait to marry on Dragonstone as she was meant to marry centuries ago. 

In the presence of her magic, our dragons grew more and more each day. After two months of her hissing conversations with them and feeling their magic with her own, Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion were big enough to ride. 

The feeling of mastering the sky was unlike anything we had ever experienced before. We were meant for the heavens, the blood and fire in our veins sang with each beat of their mighty wings. 

Daenerys gave birth to Rhaegar Targaryen during the night after our first flight. 

That same eve, her mount, Drogon laid three eggs. Morgana brought one and placed it in the cradle of the young prince Rhaegar. She smiled down at the babe saying that there was no Dragon witch bond at all between herself and the new prince. She whispered old Valyrian lullabies new to our ears and told of traditions long forgotten after the dance of dragons. 

When Prince Rhaegar was only three months old, we turned our sights and our swords west. 

Morgana led us up the stone stairs at Dragonstone. She told stories in the halls of our ancestors and our history not recorded in books. She showed us Visenya's favorite place to have a picnic and our Father's favorite places to swim. The look in her eyes was distant as she recounted tale after tale. 

She was the last relic of a long-dead reign. 

I was reminded of my mother's words, days before Daenerys' birth right here on Dragonstone.

"There is a tale, passed down through the Targaryen line of a Dragon Speaker. An immortal witch with hair as black coal and eyes, grey as steel. She appears every few decades only to fall in love and disappear before any dragon can sink its teeth in and take her to wife. It is said that she is an omen, of what no one knows. But one thing is certain, no dragon could resist the witch's charms." 

I watched history happen. I watched as my sister and nephew accomplished what a dozen generations of Targaryens failed to do...

It was dusk, the sky a mix of gold and red as we stood on the rocks. Rhaegar slept nuzzled in my arms as I watched the proceedings. 

They were dressed in traditional Valyrian wedding robes, crowns resting upon their heads. Daenerys's hair was braided in a style different to Morgana's and I couldn't help but wonder if there was meaning behind the strands. 

Morgana whispered instructions to the giddy pair. 

In the Old Valyrian custom, Morgana led them to cut each other's lips with a fine blade of dragonglass. Magic swirled around them as Morgana cut through Aegon's bottom lip and then Daenerys'.