The next few days flew by in a haze. Aegon had remained at her side every minute of the day except for when she was called by the king. The king called on her so often that rumors had begun to spiral. In one, people believed she was the king's bastard daughter. In another, she was his mistress. Even after being assured of her status as a noblewoman, rumors continued to build. It was nothing Morgana was not already used to.
While the young witch enjoyed every moment of her time with the King and Prince, years of isolation had made her social battery suboptimal. She occasionally found herself wandering to gain a moment alone. To avoid the constant sneers of court ladies, she wore a hooded cloak on her little adventures, covering most of her face and her identifiable black hair.
The beauty of the day had drawn her outside, she felt magic in the garden where she found a large tree. The locals referred to it as a godswood and she could see why. Old magic flowed through its branches, stretching up to the sky.
She smiled, sinking her own magic into the bark. She felt nature's magic hum back in delight. She remembered doing this to the whomping willow back at Hogwarts. Though she wouldn't describe herself as homesick, Morgana found herself comparing almost everything to England as days passed.
"What are you doing, my lady?" A voice was heard, startling the girl out of her reminiscence.
Morgana saw yet another Targaryen examining her. He was tall and slender, his hair reminded her of her Uncle Lucius'. He wore an eyepatch that only added to his overall impressive aura. He held a sternness that looked out of place on his young face.
She had assumed this was the elusive Prince Aemond, Aegon had told her so much about. A majority of the elder's ravings were unpleasant but she was able to distinguish a few non-biased facts about the one-eyed prince.
"Enjoying the day, my prince."
Aemond stalled a bit at her voice alone. It was flighty and a bit dreamlike in its peaceful tone. He couldn't see her face under the hood, only a pair of ruby-red doll-like lips. When she finally did pull her hood down, Aemond felt his heart stop in his chest.
He was certain she was the most beautiful woman in the seven kingdoms.
"You must be Aemond. Your brother spoke of you. A majority of it was negative, though intended to be humorous I'm sure. I am Lady Morgana Slytherin." Morgana introduced.
Aemond was slightly startled by the blunt way the lady spoke. Most were very cordial and attempted to please the royal family, but the concept seemed foreign to the strange beauty. It was then the name clicked in his head. His own mother, Queen Alicent, had been raging about the 'whore' Aegon brought home.
However, as he looked at her now, he for once understood Aegon's decision.
Something deep within his called out to her, begging for her attention. Aemond would always put duty before pleasure, but he could understand why throwing away duty seemed appealing this once.
"GANA!" Aemond heard the strangely sober voice of his elder brother call out through the garden. His one good eye found Aegon, walking towards them. It was strange to see the disappointment of a prince so steady on his feet. His hair looked washed, no sweat clung to his face, and he looked significantly less sickly, all in all, Aegon looked like a new man.
The illusion was broken as he dramatically flopped onto the grown, resting his head on Morgana's thighs as she instinctually began combing her fingers through his hair. "Oh my poor darling, forced to endure the boredom of my brother's company. Don't worry love, I'm here now." He pouted, reaching up to run the back of his fingers across her high cheekbones.
"I thought you had lessons this morning."
"Who can sit through lessons when I have my very own little angel waiting for me," Aegon teased, "I'm going to burn this hood... It's a crime to hide such a lovely face."
"Are you not to be married in two days?" Morgana asked, expressing genuine confusion.
"He is," Aemond answered for him, causing Aegon to huff in indignation.
"To your sister, right? What was her name?" Morgana asked.
"Helaena... Do you find our Valyrian customs of marrying siblings queer, Morgana," Aegon asked, trying to determine her stance on the subject.
"Not particularly. Many of my ancestors married siblings or cousins. My grandparents on my father's side were siblings, in fact, trying to keep Parseltongue in the family and all. I was also going to marry into a throuple of a brother and his two sisters, so I suppose I can't really speak on the queerness of Valyrian customs."
Her words seemed to catch their attention.
"The fuck you mean you were going to marry?" "What is Parseltongue?" Aegon and Aemonds voices clashed together as they questioned her.
"Parseltongue is a gift of the House of Slytherins. It means we have the ability to talk to snakes and apparently dragons... Yes the day I met you, Aegon, I was due to marry." Morgana explained.
"You can speak to dragons?" Aemond asked in awe. His mind filtered through the hundreds of stories of female dragon speakers assisting Targaryen kings. Historically, almost every Targaryen king had an onyx-haired female at his side.
When a dragon speaker emerged they always held a high seat of power. It is said that the gods have tied the fate of the Targaryens to their dragon speakers. They were powerful and deadly as the dragons themselves.
A painting of Aegon the Conquerer's Dragon witch was said to hang in one of the hidden rooms of Dragonstone, though Aemond had never seen it himself. There are three known facts about the Dragon speakers, but nothing more.
1. They are always onyx-haired females.
2. They are only seen full-grown and never stay for long.
3. They are devastatingly powerful.
The first time in recorded history that humanity tasted the full power of a god, was during the final battle with Dorne during Aegon's Conquest. The Dragon Witch arrived at the end of the battle and within the hour, the Dornish had surrendered.
One maester wrote: "One does not know true fear until they stand opposed to a dragon witch. If the Targaryens are closer to gods, then their dragon speakers are the god makers."
In other words, Dragon witches were as nightmarish as they are revered. They say only kings are blessed with a Dragon witch.
After Aegon the first died, the crown was handed to his weak-willed son Aerys. King Aerys never had a Dragon witch at his side, his younger brother Maegor however did. Against the line of succession, Maegor became king, all due to the witch at his side.
Now it seems it would happen again.
Aemond watched as a jealous Aegon questioned the witch. She smiled at him so softly still playing with his hair even after he had sat up in a fury.
Though his mother had always wanted Aegon on the Iron Throne, Aemond could never picture his brother as king. Even now as he watched the man pout in order to receive a kiss on the cheek from the lovely witch, Aemond could never see his brother as a functioning adult, let alone a ruling monarch.
"Would you mind proving your... Parseltongue ability?" Aemond cut off Aegon's rant, bringing the grey-eyed witch's attention back to himself.
With a confused nod. Aemond led both Aegon and Morgana out of the red keep and towards the coast.
Vhagar was much too big to be kept in the dragon's keep and was often left to her own devices. The moment the witch saw the familiar dragon she lifted her skirts and began running, "VHAGAR!"
The princes watched in horror as the small girl sprinted down the rocky terrain toward the enormous beast.
"MY LADY!"
"GANA NO!"
Vhagar turned her massive head, spotting her familiar old friend. She stood her eyes wide with excitement as she chirped and bounced with delight. Morgana kept running until she threw her arms wide, embracing Vhagar's massive snout.
The boys watched in awe as Morgana hissed at the dragon, making strange snakelike noises that seemed to make sense to the old beast of Valyria.
"Oh, my dear friend!"Morgana squealed happily as Vhagar nudged the little witchling.
"The last of my comrades, the last of the ways of old. My how I've missed you, speaker." There was a distant ache in Vhagar's words that expressed her mourning. Vhagar had lost Balerion, Meraxys, Visenya, Baelon and Laena. Her old heart had been broken time and time again, but the dragon carried on through the ages.
Now faced with the familiar hiss of her friend, Vhagar felt less alone. Even her latest rider, Aemond, did not fill the gaps.
"You seem tired my friend... I understand that more than most... the guilt of being the only one left standing. But I am happy you are here. I am happy to see you."
Tears filled Morgana's eyes as she kept a loving hand on Vhagar. Though Aegon the Second had been a great comfort to her, the witch still felt the agony of being ripped from her loved ones' arms. Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys were all dead. As was Balerion, her first friend in this strange world, and Meraxys. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Luna, Neville, Draco... Every other person she knew and loved was out of reach. So she truly did understand the Dragon's broken heart.
"Do you... know Vhagar, my love?" Aegon asked. Standing at a good distance away from the great beast.
"Yes. She was once ridden by my fiance Visenya... Though it has been a long time since I've seen her." Morgana answered as if this wasn't earth-shattering information.
Aemond's quick mind went to work immediately.
All of the dragon speakers looked the same. She never stayed long and only ever appeared as an adult. Morgana had mentioned being betrothed to a brother and his two sisters. Was it possible that all of the Dragon witches of history, were on in the same?
An immortal all-powerful witch tied to the Targaryen line.
A true goddess.
"Fuck."