Sister's Keeper
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Chapter 55: The Gods Intervention
Meereen
It has been three days since the poisoning. Daenerys continues to be by Alysanne's side not leaving her alone. The Blue Graces and apothecary were treating her. The antidote was still in the process of being made. The poison the Warlock's used was rare in Meereen. So, they were not adequately trained in making the antidote. As time went on, Ser Barristan, Missandei, and Tyrion tried to keep the peace in Meereen. The city was still unaware that their Queen laid dying at the top of the pyramid. Although, there have been questions on why Viserion was wailing in agony. Rhaegal and Drogon trying to ease their brother who senses his rider's pain.
Daenerys had fallen asleep. As she slouched over, head resting on the bed while holding her sister's hand. She never let go, in case her sister does wake up. A peculiar dream clouds her mind as if it were happening now. During the night, a shadowy apparition entered the room. Its forms resembled a human dressed in dark robes, it's hood up and veil masking the person's face. The entity glided over to the bed, hovering over the unconscious woman. Lifting its skeleton hand, it gently cradles Alysanne's face.
"Alysanne Targaryen," it spoke, it's voice impossible to tell if man or woman. "Long you live in suffering. Long you live through anguish. In those time, you aided others over yourself. You have done all you can and deserve your place in the Fathers golden hall."
The Stranger lifted its veil, revealing its face that of a skull and eyes shining bright like the stars. The God of Death tucks a strand of hair off of Alysanne's face.
"When the dream ends, you'll be with your family again," The Stranger whispered, then sung a hymn. "Wither and decay… End this destiny. Break these earthly chains and set the spirit free. The spirit free..."
The God of Death leaned forward, pressing its teeth along Alysanne's lip as if it was a kiss. When the entity pulled back, an arduous sighed escaped her lips. Her chest deflating for the last time, never to rise and fall again. The Stranger stood up, turning away to collect the next soul that needs release. Just as the Stranger reached the window, the god stopped facing Daenerys as its eyes turned red.
Daenerys gasped, waking from her nightmare. She shook her head, rubbing her eyes, not expecting such a dream. Once more, she was not one for religion. Not to the same degree as her sister or previous family members. Never feeling like the gods have done anything for them. After wiping the sleep from her eyes, she stared at Alysanne.
That was when Daenerys noticed Alysanne wasn't breathing. No weak laborious breaths, nor her chest expanding and deflating. Scared, she placed her hand over her sister's face feeling not a single breath.
"No…no…no. Alysanne, please, you can't die." Daenerys pleaded as she crawled in shaking her sister's corpse. "No. No. NO!"
A sob escaped her lips as she held her sister. Her wails echoing through the Apex, as Ser Barristan, Tyrion, Missandei, Grey Worm, and Daario barged into the room. The warriors drew their weapons, thinking it was an attack, only to find Daenerys sobbing in despair as she held her sister. Ser Barristan came over, placing a hand on Alysanne's neck, feeling no signs of a pulse. He looked up at the others with a frown, shaking his head. Missandei gasped covering her mouth, Grey Worm tensed not sure how to respond to this, Daario bowed his head, and Tyrion…he knew this was going to happen, but deep down he hoped it didn't.
Ser Barristan moved over to Daenerys trying to separate the Khaleesi from her sister.
"Daenerys," Ser Barristan said. "This isn't Alysanne. She is gone."
"I can't let her go. She can't be dead. She promised to take me home," Daenerys sobbed.
"Let go and hold onto me," Barristan advised as he took hold of the Khaleesi, and guided the Queen's body down.
Daenerys cried, clinging to Ser Barristan who held her. Tyrion came over to the bed, grabbing the sheets and adjusted it to cover the late Queen. An agonizing roar could be heard follow a loud on the Great Pyramid. Viserion forced his head inside the room through the balcony amber eyes looking around, trying to find his rider. Everyone stepped back afraid what the dragon would do, seeing him sniffing the air, and curling the scaly lips to reveal its teeth. Only to stop at the bed seeing Tyrion attempt to cover Alysanne's remains.
Viserion shook his head, shaking violently as he tried to enter more. However, due to his size, his shoulders got stuck by the balcony. The dragon roar and snarled desperate to reach his rider. Everyone covered their ears from the loudness, trying to avoid the destruction of the dragon. The Unsullied rushed in about to attack when Daenerys jumped off, stopping them.
"No, wait!" she yelled, standing in between.
She knew what Viserion is going through. Maybe not the same extent, but to lose family and grasping that they are gone.
"Daario, bring Alysanne to Viserion," She ordered.
"Daenerys..." the Sellsword caution.
"Do it!" she snapped.
Daario sighed as he walked over to the bed, carefully picking up Alysanne and carried her over to Viserion. The dragon stopped, pulling back some until the sellsword placed the remains before him. The golden dragon stared the body, gently nudging it to get a response. Like he used to do as a draglet and toddler days. No response, no sound of protest. Hearing no breathing, the sound of her heartbeat or anything. Viserion shook his head and gave another deafening shriek. Once more people covered their ears. The dragon opens his mouth, flames illuminating which everyone feared until the dragon pulled his head out of the room breathing fire while flapping his wings in despair.
Daenerys sobbed as Rhaegal and Dragons shrieks and roars joined their brother in mourning.
"We better prepare for the funeral," Tyrion finally spoke.
He walked over to the Unsullied advising they collect the body. Just as a few of the Unsullied came forward, Viserion's head shot back in, almost biting the men. A warning growled rumbled in his chest, eyes narrowing that threaten anyone who dares come near Alysanne.
Tyrion came over to Daenerys.
"Your Highness, we must make preparations before the body decays," Tyrion advised.
Daenerys shook her head, still comprehend her sister was dead.
"I know how you're feeling," the dwarf said, resting a hand on her arm.
Daenerys pulled her arm back, "How would you know how I am feeling. You murdered your own father. My sister was taken from me. All because I brought the dragons back. And now she's dead!"
"This is not your fault," Daario tried to reason.
"It is," Daenerys said. "If I had only listened."
Everyone did not know what she meant. Wondering if this happened before the Targaryen Campaign. The sound of footsteps could be heard as the doors open, revealing the high red Priestess, Kinvara and two of her priests standing beside her.
"Valar Morghulis," Kinvara greeted.
"Valar Dohaeris," the Unsullied replied.
"Kinvara," Tyrion said surprised. "Why are you here?"
"I came to help. The Lord of Light told me in the flames that Alysanne Targaryen was dying." Kinvara said.
"You're a bit late," Daario muttered.
"I am on time," Kinvara said. "Alysanne Targaryen is the one who was promised. From the fire, she was reborn to remake the world and defend for the living in the Great War."
"Can't do that if she is a corpse," Daario countered.
"The fires of the dragon are the purification, and I offer my services in her resurrection," Kinvara explained.
Daenerys walked over to her, "You can bring her back? How?"
"If the Lord of Light allows it," Kinvara corrected. "But I must warn you, she will not be the same. For when one dies and is resurrected, a part of their soul is lost in the darkness."
The Mother of Dragons paused, taking the Red Priestess's warning. She looked at Viserion, who was mourning. Was she willing to take the risk to bring back her sister? Can she live with herself again and allow blood magic to resurrect the dead? The last time she attempted to use blood magic, was when Drogo died. Mirri Maz Duur tricked her, bring Drogo's body back to life but not his spirit. It cost her Rhaego and her fertility.
Kinvara rests her hand on Daenerys's shoulder, "I assure you; the Lord of Lord does not have a price. My Lord sees if the fallen is worthy to complete his cause. For the night is dark and full of terrors. The terrors your sister saw in the House of the Undying."
She had to make the decision. All her life, Alysanne has been protecting her. Raising her, guiding, loving, being sister, and mother all the time. Now it was time to make the decision. She didn't want to be the last Targaryen. She won't allow it. She faced Kinvara.
"Do it. Bring her back."
"Your Highness," Ser Barristan objected. "You mustn't…"
"I don't care! I want my sister back, and I will have her back!"
The Small Council was baffled by this.
Kinvara nodded as her ruby in her necklace glowed softly.
.o0o.
Alysanne's POV
Something grabbed me by the leg, yanking me awake. I gasped, sitting up seeing a corpse of the Undying Ones crawling onto the bed and over. I scream from the top of my lungs, kicking them away. I tried grabbing the dagger that was kept under my pillow, except it wasn't there. I always slept with a knife, ever since sailing to Astapor, I always had a knife underneath my pillow. More of the Undying grabbed hold, their cold, dry hands pinning me down. I screamed, trying to break free. One on top hovers over my face as his hand grabbed it roughly. His mouth elongated, exposing his blue tongue and blacken teeth. My eyes widen in fear thinking this was the end.
Just as I think it would be the end, a sword was stabbed through him. The Undying One shrieked then vanished in a puff of smoke. Two men killed the other four and turned to face me. I panted, covering myself with the blanket discovering I was naked. I was utterly confused, as if two lives, two memories were being fused into one.
"Easy, deep breath," one of the men said, as he sat next taking my arms.
My eyes adjusted to the darkness to realize it was Jorah. I pulled back, "No, this must be a trick. You aren't here."
"Alysanne," Jorah said.
"No, last I saw you, you left to find Dany. You left to find a cure," I yelled.
"You remember," Jorah sighed in relief.
"Breaking the ring must have broken the seal that suppressed her memories," the second man guessed.
"Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?" I demanded.
"You were poisoned," Jorah explained. "The Warlocks put you in a sleep-like death, as your mind was trapped in the dream and steal your life."
"Steal my life?" I asked.
"Your fire," the second man explained. "You were born of magic, your fire immunity, and ability to communicate with the dead. They wanted that magic so they could resurrect the Undying Ones. The Shadow-binder known as Quaithe linked Ser Jorah's mind to yours. However, they put a strong charm that prevented you from remembering your true life. He had to find the cursed object that binds you to the Veil of the Living and the Dead or try to make you remember."
I stared at Jorah, touching his face in which he leans into cradling my hand, "So you're not an illusion?"
Jorah shook his head, "Not for the past two days."
"Why didn't you say anything?" I asked.
"I tried, but the magic made it difficult," Jorah answered. "I'm sorry, Alysanne, but I have failed you."
"Failed me? How could you have failed me?" I asked.
Both men paused, then looked at me.
"I was too late," Jorah explained as he took my hand. "The crystal Quaithe gave me…I misread the colors."
"No, that was not it," the Mask Man said. "The Warlocks and the Undying Ones tried to accelerate the draining process. The moment we destroyed the ring, they finished her life force."
I comprehended their words then stopped looking at them, "Are you saying…I'm dead?"
The Mask Man nodded, while Jorah looked down ashamed. The news felt like someone stabbed me in the stomach. No…no, I can't be dead. I can't abandon Daenerys or my army or Viserion. By the seven, Viserion. The separation…what if he goes feral and wild, destroying Meereen? I grabbed my head, yanking my hair while shaking it. This can't be happening.
"Mama?" a soft scared voice called out.
All eyes turned to the door where the little boy stood. My heart ached, for the past few days I thought Joren was my son. Except he wasn't, he was an illusion. The Warlocks used my deepest desires against me. My desire to have a family. I burst into tears, unable to look at Joren after realizing the truth that it was all a lie. A lie that killed me.
The Mask Man went over, escorting the boy back to his room. Jorah and I remained as he held me in his arms. I tensed, pulling away, remembering he had Greyscale. Jorah guessed what I was thinking and rolled his sleeve, exposing clean skin.
"I'm not contagious, not in this dream at least," Jorah assured, as he hugged me again.
"I'm sorry, you shouldn't have come." I cried clinging to his chest.
"I've sworn to protect you, fight for you, and kill for you. No matter the cost," he murmured.
"Why?" I sobbed.
Jorah lifted my chin to look at him, "Because I love you. Not because you are a Queen, but because you are the woman I love."
Before I could say anything, he placed a gentle kiss on my lips. I was still overwhelmed, unable to kiss him back. Once he finished, he pulled back with a sigh.
"Let's get you dressed," Jorah advised.
I nodded as I got out of bed and went over to the wardrobe to put on some fresh clothes. I didn't bother with a corset, as I put on a small cloth, skirt, and tunic, using a cincher to keep the attire together along with a pair of boots. My Targaryen sword was in the corner of the room, which I grabbed, securing it to my hip. We left the room in search for the Mask Man, wondering where he went when we came upon a woman wearing a red mask stood in the hall where Joren's room was. She nodded to the Mask Man before going inside.
"What's going on, who are these people?" I asked.
"Spirits," Jorah answered. "They're on our side."
The Mask Man came over to us, "It's best we leave her and join the others. See if there is another way to get Ser Jorah back to his body."
Jorah tensed, "What?"
"Your body is still alive, Mormont. You do not belong here. Only the dying or the dead can roam this realm." The Mask Man explained.
Jorah shook his head, "I'm not leaving her."
"Jorah- "I started.
"Alysanne, the Greyscale has already reached my chest and back. I'm dying either way." Jorah said. "Anyway, Quaithe said that if you died, we both are trapped here."
I bowed my head ashamed feeling like this was all my fault.
"We must go to the Temple of Valyria. Hopefully, the others can figure this out," the Mask Man said.
"The boy?" I asked.
"Rhaena will be watching him," The Mask Man answered with a small smile.
Rhaena… that is a Targaryen name, I thought.
I nodded. Even though Joren was an illusion, he felt so real. The Warlocks were cruel in meddling with my deepest desire, messing with my motherly instincts. I am entirely done with magic. The only type of magic I will accept is the Valyrian magic of the Dragonlords. Since the only magic that is used, is through the connection between dragon and rider. Spells that give the command to the dragons to obey.
The Mask Man lead us out into Braavos and secretly through the streets beneath the shadows. Avoiding the Unmasking Festivities as a precaution of any remaining Warlocks are about. As the Stranger states, even if my body was dead, my fire still burns that they will try to take it. Apparently, as the men destroyed the cursed object, the Undying Ones prevented it by their attack this evening. Neither of them expected them to attack.
We journey through the alleys and small bridges until arriving at a small temple. Braavos was known for a hundreds of different gods. Of religion. The Temple of the Moonsingers is the foremost of these, being the faith of the slave women who prophesized the creation of Braavos. There were other temples as well, from the Lord of Light, Lady of Lys and others. There were numerous, yet, less numerous even some forgotten faiths still have temples deep in the heart of the city. One is the temple of the Valyrian Gods. Ser Willem never allowed Viserys, Daenerys, and I to go see the temple, fearing it would draw danger to us. It was small, not like the one in Meereen. Still the statues of the dragon gods in their armor. In the center was a fire pit where it was believed it used to hold the fire of dragons through the centuries until it went out. Now, as we enter, the flames were ignited along with other people in the exotic architecture hall.
Everyone in the room wore clothes of red and black. Some fully dressed in the Unmasking while others simply wore red masks with dragon resemblance. All having white hair of shades between gold and silver. Even their eyes were in different shades of purple. I was utterly confused, wondering who these people were. All eyes stared at us, speaking in hush whispers.
"Who are they?" I whispered to Jorah.
"Spirits," Jorah softly replied. "Or so I've been told."
One of the Spirits came forward to us. He wore a dark crimson overcoat and black tunic. A red cloak hung over his shoulder as the pin was a rondel engraved with a three-headed dragon. His Mask hidden his face, yet his purple eyes were a shade that reminded me Mothers.
"Um…do I know you?" I asked.
"No, never in person even though you have heard of me," the man said. He turned around facing the others. "Remove your mask. She is one of us now."
Everyone nodded as they removed their masks, revealing their faces. Again, none of them I could recognize. The last person to remove their mask was the one who has been helping Jorah. He was hesitant, as he took off his hat and scarf, delaying the reveal until unmasking himself. My heart stopped, feeling like death came for the second time. There stood my own brother, Rhaegar.
"I wish our reunion could have been under different circumstances, sweet sister." Rhaegar greeted.
My body shook and fists clenched. So many emotions rushing through my veins. I don't know what happened. It was a blur as I lunged forward, punching Rhaegar in the face. Another attempt, as I lifted my fist to punch him when the man from a moment ago restrained me. Rhaegar stood there, rubbing his jaw.
"You bastard!" I yelled. "How could you! Was she worth it? Did our family mean nothing?"
Rhaegar sighed, "I deserved that."
"That you do, my great-grandson," the man restraining me said.
Great-Grandson? I thought. I faced my captor. "Aegon?"
"Aegon the fifth," he clarified. Seeing around his head was a golden band, declared to be his crown.
Analyzing the room, some wore crowns, others in armors, and few in Braavosi attire with some jewelry that signified their status of a Targaryen. These people were my ancestors.
"I think she is going to faint," one woman said.
Jorah rushed over, grabbing me as he held my balance.
I grabbed my head, "I've truly gone mad."
Laughter echoed through the halls from that statement.
"If you were truly mad, we wouldn't be here," Aegon V chuckled slightly.
I stared at Jorah, wondering if he knew of this. Based on his overwhelmed expression, he didn't. Here stood my ancestors; unfortunately, I don't know most of their faces. I've never seen their actual portraits or statues. Illustrations in books don't give them enough credit than an actual portrait. I looked around to see if there were other familiar faces, any of my direct family other than Rhaegar. Sadly, Mother was not here. Hiding my disappointment, I stared at Rhaegar, who stood there ashamed, avoiding eye contact. There were so many questions I want to ask him. Many he needs to answer for why he did what he did. A rebellion during our father's reign was bound to happen, except why did Rhaegar ignite it. Why did he kidnap Lyanna Stark when he had a wife and family?
"Rhaegar, what happened?" Aegon V asked. "Her fire was still blazing when you destroyed the cursed object. Ser Jorah and Alysanne should've woken in the real world."
"The Undying Ones were extinguishing her fire at the same time Ser Jorah was destroying it," Rhaegar explained.
"Then shouldn't we be in the Father's golden hall?" The woman from earlier said, who had a circlet in the shape of a dragon on her head.
"You're right, Rhaenyra, we all should be back in our place in the Seven Heavens," Aegon V agreed.
"Unless a living soul is still in the veil," another woman said. All eyes turned to a woman who stood by the Silverwing goddess statue. She was a small woman, slim of waist and slight of frame. With a long neck, a fair complexion, a high forehead, and high cheekbones. She had blue eyes and honey-colored curls.
"Good Queen Alysanne," Rhaenyra introduced.
My eyes widen when seeing my namesake. One of the amiable Queen Consorts of Westeros.
"A living soul in the veil," Queen Alysanne repeated, then turn her attention to Jorah. "His body still lives. Until the Stranger claims him, this dream remains open."
"Can there be a chance to resurrect her?" Rhaegar asked.
Queen Alysanne stared at him, "Possibly, as long as the living doesn't destroy their bodies, there can be a chance for both of them to survive."
The Targaryen's nodded. Jorah and I stood there confused, not understanding what they are talking about. How can one resurrect the dead? Then my thoughts came to blood magic.
"No, no blood magic, I will not return as a hollow corpse. Not like Drogo." I argued.
Jorah tensed, understanding what I meant. Drogo was resurrected from the dead, even then he was either a living vessel with no soul, or his spirit was trapped in his body.
Queen Alysanne turned to me, resting her hand on my shoulder, "Don't worry, child. This is not blood magic, but fire magic. Until your sister figures that out, you must wait."
I was about to argue then closed my mouth.
"Come, let me show you what will happen if you don't return to the living," Queen Alysanne murmured, leading the way to the giant brazier that took form of a dragon's head. "Fate is not set in stone. Although there are prophecies and legends, destiny and coincidences, it is never confirmed. If you remain here, the world shall fall under darkness."
"The long night, Visenya told me about it," I said.
"Yes, the Night King is only pure evil, he wants to vanquish history," Queen Alysanne explained. "However, there are more evils in the world. Some are born evil, while others are driven to it."
I stared at her, confused, "Who would be driven to darkness if I die?"
A sad smile fell upon her face as she faced the fire. "Your sister."
Dany? I thought baffled.
"Gaze into the fire, and you shall see," Queen Alysanne said.
The Targaryen's came forward all staring into the flames. Jorah and I were confused as we did so, when an image appeared, a vision, of Daenerys riding on Drogon burning King's Landing to the ground. Burning hundreds if not thousands of people. Women, children, and elderly consumed by fire or slaughter by the Dothraki and Unsullied. The vision changed to the ruins of the Red Keep. Daenerys stood at the top of the steps addressing her army. Ashes falling from the sky as if it were snow.
"Blood of my blood. You kept all your promises to me. You killed my enemies in their iron suits. You tore down their stone houses. You gave me the Seven Kingdoms!" Daenerys said and summon Grey Worm. "You have walked beside my sister since the Plaza of Pride. You kept her promise to restore House Targaryen's name. You are the bravest of men, the most loyal of soldiers. I name you commander of all my forces, the Queen's Master of War."
The Unsullied stomped their spears. Grey Worm though hardened face nodded in appreciation,
Daenerys then return to the army, "Unsullied. All of you were torn from your mother's arms and raised as slaves. My Sister, Queen Alysanne had liberated you. Now…you are liberators! You have freed the people of King's Landing from the grip of a tyrant! But the war is not over. We will not lay down our spears until we have liberated all the people of the world! From Winterfell to Dorne, from Lannisport to Qarth, from the Summer Isles to the Jade Sea! Women, men, and children have suffered too long beneath the wheel. Will you break the wheel with me?"
My eyes widen for I no longer saw my sweet sister. Instead, I saw a tyrant. A stranger filled with rage and hate. All the lessons I have taught her gone.
"If you remain dead, then this will be the fate of the world," Queen Alysanne said.
"Your death leads her to madness," Rhaenyra added.
This was overwhelming, too much to comprehend. I then stared at Rhaegar, who held sadness and guilt. A chain reaction of mistakes over and over again, leading to the birth of madness. Some Targaryens are born mad while others are made. Excusing myself, I went outside to breathe needing the fresh air. I leaned against one of the columns and slouched to the ground hugging myself. Several minutes later, Jorah came over as he sat down next to me.
"After all this, I don't think I can ever go back to being a cynic," Jorah murmured.
"Couldn't agree more," I mumbled. "To be dead, seeing my ancestors, and discovering a possible future Daenerys may fall into. It goes against everything I created. One cannot rule them all. She will be Queen of the Ashes."
Jorah took her hand, "Not unless you are there to prevent it."
"Jorah, I'm dead. What is dead can never come back," I softly cried. "The only reason we are still in this damn dream is because you're still alive."
"Forgive me, I was too late," Jorah sighed.
"This is not your fault, it is the Warlocks," I cried. "You did everything you could to deceive them while trying to save me."
I sighed, resting my head on his shoulder, "I never thought I would die this way. Not by poison at least."
"You should've passed from old age with your children surrounding you," Jorah said.
"And you in my bed with my arms around you," I added.
Jorah sighed once more.
Rhaegar soon came out, "May I have a moment?"
Jorah looked at me in question which I nodded. He stood up, leaving us alone in private. Rhaegar sat down across from me. It was strange how much we resembled each other from the hair, eyes, and other features. As if we were twins, except he was twenty years older than me.
"What little memories I had of home; you were in them. Along with Mother, Viserys, Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon," I said, which he winced when I mention our family. "Viserys always praised you were good at killing, but I remember you being talented, a scholar, a musician. A good King when the day comes. I remember that promise you made me. That when you are King, you would've made a better world, that the family curse would never fall upon me. Everyone told me, you were decent and kind, gave money to the poor…and you raped Lyanna Stark. You dishonored her and took her away when she was betrothed to another. Our cousin Robert. You were married to Princess Elia Martell, a wonderful woman who almost died twice to give birth to your children. Do you know what the Lannisters did to them? What Gregor Clegane did to them?"
Rhaegar only stared at me.
"From what I've been told, Rhaenys was stabbed in her bed," I said, eyes watering and throat clenched. "Stabbed countless times until her heart was blood itself. Aegon, sweet baby Aegon, ripped out of Elia's arms and head smashed into the wall. And Elia…she watched her children being murdered, until Ser Gregor raped her with the blood of her children on his hands, and cut her in half. Their bodies presented in the Throne Room covered in Lannister cloaks. Did you ever think about them? Did you ever think about the consequences? Father… I understand…but your family did not deserve to die like that. Our own mother shouldn't have gone through the stress when she was carrying Dany. Viserys wouldn't have fallen into madness if the world hadn't rejected him. I wouldn't have been raped and abused by him. And Dany…she would've had a home, a family. Did you ever think about us? Or was it lust and spite?"
Rhaegar looked down ashamed, "I was a fool to believe in the prophecy. All the signs stating I was the reincarnation of Azor Ahai. Our grandfather believing in the Wood Witch that our parents' bloodline would bring the princes that was promised. And then…I thought it was my son. Thinking that the prince who promised is the same as Aegon the Conqueror and his two sisters. My son needed two sisters…:
"You needed a Visenya," I growled.
"Elia was considered barren after Aegon's birth. Or at least that is what Maester Pycelle believed. Any more pregnancies and she would have died. I couldn't risk her life. But I needed…no not need…I wanted a third child. All I could think about was preparing the Seven Kingdoms for the long night. Have father abdicated, become King, so when the Long Night does arrive, Aegon would be ready."
"So, instead of having a bastard with any woman in court, you chose a betrothed woman. From all the women who were willing to be your mistress, you've chosen the Warden's daughter of the largest kingdom in Westeros. The Starks and the Targaryens were allies for hundreds of years, and the Baratheons were our cousins. Had you no shame?"
"I do hold shame, and I must live with it," Rhaegar said. "When I promised a new dynasty to House Targaryen only to be its downfall. And now, you and Daenerys are the ones to pick up the pieces. Or this case…our sister…becoming what all Targaryens are feared to become."
I took a deep breath.
"I hated and loved you throughout the years. When I learned the truth about the war. How it originally started. How it was you who ignited it. My big brother who sings and dances with me, who read me stories was the cause of it. And to hear that it was your obsession to have three children breaks my heart and wonder if you were truly mad."
"People question that with Baelor," he tried to joke.
I shook my head, "That is not my point. You destroyed House Targaryen because of a woman. You had a family, and that selfish decision destroyed our family. All because of a prophecy that a Wood Witch foretold."
"You don't believe in prophecies?"
"Prophecies are mere riddles. A game to trick the mind into believing in. An excuse to act upon without retaliation."
"You earned your name," Rhaegar sighed. "Will you ever forgive me?"
"I don't know," I said, standing up. "In time maybe, but right now…I can't. Answer me this, was she worth it? Was Lyanna Stark worth our family's extinction?"
Rhaegar stood up, "I don't know anymore."
I turned my gaze inside the temple where our ancestors socialized amongst one another. Generations talking to generations or more excellent and fair rulers, knights, and women who made a difference in history. People who made a difference for Westeros. My attention then turned to Jorah, who leaned against a column in a corner as one ancestor tried to hold a conversation with him. He was bewildered, trying to grasp who he was talking too. My heart stirred, thinking about the past few days in the dream. The chances we could've had if I had abdicated. Let alone the risk of rescuing me from death.
"The things we do for love," I murmured.
"Agreed," Rhaegar said. "Never thought you would be with a Mormont. I intently had plans to match you with Quentyn Martell or one of Lord Mace Tyrells eldest sons. What do you see in him?"
I continue to watch Jorah, "Redemption and sacrifice. He treats me not as a Targaryen, but as myself. Believes in me when others wouldn't."
"Maybe he will make a good king consort," Rhaegar complimented.
I scoffed slightly trying to imagine Jorah uncomfortable from all the attention. Then the thought came that if Jorah returns to the real world, he would still be suffering from Greyscale. Mentioning the disease has reached his chest and back. If Daenerys and the Small Council find another way to resurrect me…it doesn't resolve the matter that I would still lose the man I love. Sighing, I walked over to Jorah rescuing him from the haunting.
.o0o.
Meereen
Alysanne's body was laid on a bier in the Audience Hall. Four Braziers lit at each corner while the ceiling chandeliers were not lit. The chamber seeing a bit dark, yet this was how Kinvara wanted it. In a place of power in Meereen. Daenerys stood by her sister, combing her fingers through the long locks. The Small Council was apprehensive by this. None of them had experience with magic. All believed it was best to let Alysanne have a proper funeral.
She leaned down, kissing Alysanne's forehead, "Forgive me."
Kinvara entered the audience hall with her two priests. "It is time."
Ser Barristan came over to Daenerys, "I beg you, your highness, don't do this. Let your sister rest in peace."
"She spent her life saving me, I will save her," Daenerys whispered. "If you don't want to be here then leave."
Ser Barristan hesitated, Alysanne stated clearly, she is one of the Seven. She was not a worshiper of the Lord of Light, not wanting to associate herself with the dark arts. Magic is something that should not be messed with. Death is something that should not be messed with. As Kinvara stated if Alysanne is resurrected, …she won't be herself. A part of her would be dead. The question being which part.
The two stepped off the bottom platform of the stairs and joined the others. Tyrion wasn't at ease, wondering what sorcery that will transpire. If Varys were here, the Spider would openly argue about this. Daario was curious. Meanwhile, Grey Worm and Missandei stood praying for a miracle.
Kinvara walked over to the bier where the bodies head was. She removed the small braids and adjusted the hair to fall over the edge. Next, she started stripping away the black gown before walking to one of the priests who held a basic filled with herbal water. The Red Priestess took a sponge and started washing the body, cleansing it. Once that was done, Kinvara was handed a golden chalice. She brought the drink to the Alysanne's lip gingerly giving the potion that will purify from the inside. Placing the cup aside, she was handed a pair of shears and moved over to the head. Kinvara brushed a few strands smoothing out the curls before she can to cut. Daenerys tensed, yet bit back her protest.
"Zyhys oñoso jehikagon Aeksiot epi, se gis hen syndrorro jemagon," Kinvara chanted, cutting more locks and tossing them to the brazier.
She finished cutting the hair, putting the shears aside and was handed a golden pitcher. Kinvara slowly poured water down the freshly chopped hair, combing her fingers in to cleanse the scalp while saying, "Zyhys yperzys stepagon Aeksio Oño jorepi, se morghultas lys qelitsos sikagon."
Finally, Kinvara moved to the side, resting her hands on the dragoness's chest. Amber eyes stared intensive, almost illuminating in the dim room. She leaned forward some whispering the spell. "Hen syndrorro, oños. Hen ñuqir, perzys. Hen morghot, glaeson."
Over and over, Kinvara chanted the spell filled with much determination. The two priests came over, placing a hand on Alysanne's feet joining in the incantation. The room started to become hot, the air dense, making it uncomfortable to breathe. The four braziers fire growing brighter, rising up to the ceiling. Until Kinvara started, exclaiming the spell, her ruby illuminating so bright.
"Zyhys oñoso jehikagon Aeksiot epi, se gis hen syndrorro jemagon!
Zyhys perzys stepagon Aeksio Oño jorepi, se morghultas lys qelitsos sikagon!
Hen syndrorro, oños! Hen ñuqir, perzys! Hen morghot, glaeson!"
The flames roared like magic engulfing the platform blinding the Small Council in what happened. They turned away, covering their faces, and then there was silence. The Audience Chamber was dark. Only the candles that surrounded bier continued to lighten the dark room. Kinvara removed her hands along with the two Red Priests. They stepped down from the platform and towards them.
"It is done," Kinvara said. "Now it is the Lord of Light turn to decide."
With nothing else to say the R'hllor faith left the chamber. Daenerys blinked a few times trying to grasp in what just happened. Immediately she ran over to the bier where the body lied. Sadly, Alysanne's body remains there, dead. The Mother of Dragons stood watching silently begging for her sister to wake up. Nothing happened. Daario came over, wrapping a caring arm over Daenerys and lead her out. Ser Barristan glanced at his Queen and sighed following the princess. Missandei was the next person to leave, as well. Grey Worm walked over to the bier, instead of saying goodbye, he took his position guarding the body.
Tyrion, who also remained, came over disappointed. A part of him had hoped this would work. He believed in Alysanne, seeing her as the exact ruler for the realm. She did not care about power, she cared about order. She cared about the people. And she cared about redemption. A good Queen taken away yet again. Being considerate, Tyrion went over to the table to grab a sheet to cover the body. Just as he returns stopping at the head to cover her, eyes that were thought to be forever closed snapped open.
Alysanne gasped, taking first breath of her second life.
What do you guys think?
The hymn the Stranger says if from Tangle Series. The Moondrop Hurt incantation.
Translations to the Resurrection prayer:
Zyhys oñoso jehikagon Aeksiot epi, se gis hen syndrorro jemagon. =We ask the Lord to shine his light, and lead a soul out of darkness.
Zyhys perzys stepagon Aeksio Oño jorepi, se morghultas lys qelitsos sikagon. =We beg the Lord to share his fire, and light a candle that has gone out.
Hen syndrorro, oños. Hen ñuqir, perzys. Hen morghot, glaeson. = From darkness, light. From ashes, fire. From death, life.
Remember, High Valyrian does not use gender pronouns.
Thanks for reading and please leave a review!