Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire.
The Three Heads
"Talking"
"Thinking"
Daenerys
At first, Daenerys thought she was dreaming. She dreamt of the Long Night, fighting the wights and the Others, pushing back their coldness with dragon fire, steel, and dragonglass. It was a confusing mess, only now there seemed to be no end to it.
Then, the dream changed. She was back in the Red Keep's Great Hall, standing before the Iron Throne. The Hall was quiet. Moonlight gently poured through the windows. She could see the doors but only just. Where there wasn't light, shadows rested. The Iron Throne towered over everything, even her. But she wasn't deterred.
"You've done well, for yourself and our family."
Daenerys spun back around, hand reaching for Dark Sister. It hadn't left her side since it had been recovered and gifted to her. But it wasn't there now.
A man stood across from her, the Iron Throne laying in between them. From his silver-gold hair and purple eyes, she knew he was of Valyrian descent, like her. But there was something else about him, something that felt familiar. She didn't know what it was. "Who are you?" she demanded.
The man smirked, amused. "I know I'm not wearing my crown or holding Blackfyre, but it shouldn't be that hard to know who I am." He glanced at the Iron Throne. "After all, you sit on my creation."
It was a simple sentence, one that could've been interpreted in many different ways. But it also revealed who he was. Daenerys stared at him in shock. "You're Aegon the Conqueror."
"And you are Daenerys, the Mother of Dragons."
She straightened her back at those words. She could not be weak before him, not before the Dragon. "I am. Why are you here? This is my dream, is it not?"
"It is. But a little leeway should be considered when an ancestor wishes to talk."
That could be, but this was her dream. For all she knew, she was simply talking to a figment of her imagination. "If you wish to speak your piece, do so and be done with it."
He was unimpressed by her words, yet not insulted by them either. "Forward and honest. Good. It is nice to see some traits have come through."
Many lords and rulers she had met would bluster and object to how Daenerys spoke. Yet her ancestor (if it wasn't a figment of her imagination) liked it. "What do you mean by that?"
"You speak as I do, with no need for fanciful or pretty words. When you speak, you speak plainly and men listen. And that's not all. You are not content just to sit on the throne."
"I've brought the Seven Kingdoms back under our banner," she said. "The people, lords and smallfolk, need to know this." And she needed to know her realm. If that meant she would go out to different places instead of ordering the people to come to her, than that was what she would do.
His smirk morphed into a smile, a proud one. Daenerys was uncertain why that smile made her happy. Was this the feeling one would get when they've done their father proud? "As you should. You've been told my words, haven't you?"
"A king should never sit easy." That was a harsh lesson she had learned in Essos. She remembered it well when she came to Westeros. "I might've restored our House to its proper glory but that could all be taken away tomorrow if we are not careful. We must remember that, always."
Aegon nodded. "Good. Be sure that your descendants take that lesson to heart."
She couldn't look him in the eye after that. After what happened with Rhaego, even though she had taken men to her bed, her womb had never quickened. She was the Queen, and she would probably never have children. That was what led to the compromise between her, Aegon, and Jon.
Her ancestor noticed how she looked away. "Dany, look at me," he told her. His voice was warm, caring, the kind she vaguely remembered Viserys using on her.
But it wasn't the warmth that got her. It was the name. "Daenerys," she answered, putting strength in the name. "Dany was a girl in Essos who realized too late how much trouble she was causing. That is not the name of a queen." She was Daenerys, First of Her Name.
Again, he was proud. "You have family, and they will have children. Those will be your descendants, your heirs. Love them as they were your own and teach them how to lead and rule."
"I already plan to. Now, would you like to tell me more of what I already know?" Since this had to be her imagination, it would make sense her ancestor would tell her things she already knew. It was no less what she told herself.
He shook his head. "No, I'm done. Still, I came to you for a reason. For all you've done, House Targaryen deserve some small reward. I'm simply here to show you that reward."
The words didn't make that much sense to her. "And what would this be reward?" she asked.
"Someone would like to meet with you. Someone who you've met before."
She followed his gesture to the shadows. There was something moving in them. As it came closer, the moonlight revealed it to be a person. She couldn't tell who it was, but she did feel as if she knew who it was. An uncertain hope grew in her. "Viserys?" she called out.
"No," Aegon said. "Your brother has seen what you've become and while he is proud of you, he is ashamed of what he became before his death. So he gave someone else the chance. Someone who never had the chance to tell you many things."
At first, she thought she would see the Mad King. But when the moonlight revealed a woman, graceful and strong, with her own eyes looking back at her, she was stunned. She knew this woman. She didn't know how but she knew her in her heart.
In that moment, Daenerys the queen was gone. Only Dany remained. "Mother?"
Queen Rhaella Targaryen smiled with a mother's warmth and held out her arms. Seconds later, they were filled with a joyful girl. "My Dany," she said as she stroked her hair. "I'm so proud of you."
Aegon, First of His Name, faded into shadows as mother and daughter talked. What they had to say only needed to be shared between them.
Aegon
There were moments when Aegon had to remind himself that he wasn't Young Griff, that he was Prince Aegon and a member of House Targaryen. Yet, sitting here in this garden, with the flowers' scents hanging in the air, Young Griff and Prince Aegon were at peace together. He could rest against the tree's trunk and enjoy the night.
"This is a nice place. A pity I never got to see it completed."
He turned at the voice. A woman sat close by, wearing a black-and-red dress that left her shoulders bare and hinted at her legs. She was a Targaryen. Her hair and eyes gave that away. For a moment, he thought it was Daenerys sitting there. But Daenerys never wore her hair so loose and freely. "Who are you?" he asked. He didn't notice Blackfyre anywhere in sight.
"I'm Rhaenys Targaryen, my child."
He frowned. "My mother was Elia Martell, not you."
"Yes," she agreed without problem. "But her husband was descended from me, as were all the kings before him, with one exception. So, I see you all as my children."
It was that easy declaration that made him understand who she was. "Rhaenys, sister-wife to Aegon I."
She smiled happily and clapped her hands. "Very good."
"This is a dream, isn't it?" How else would he meet with an ancestor of his? The garden should've been a tip-off. Last thing he remembered he was asleep in his own bed with his wife.
"Or something more. But why focus on that?"
"Then what should we focus on?" he asked her.
"You. People think you should be king because of your heritage. You tried to prove that when you came to Westeros with the Golden Company. You tried to be that when you met your kin."
"I'm not the king," he said. "That was part of the compromise." Daenerys would rule and the firstborn would be her heir. Strange as it might've seemed, he wasn't bitter about it.
Rhaenys smiled. "I know. Just like I know what you showed initially was nothing more than a mask. You much prefer to be a part of the crowd, to share in their joy. You have no qualms talking to the smallfolk, hearing their troubles and seeing if you can resolve their problems. You enjoy reading and listening to songs, especially new ones." Her words were happy, with some pride mixed in. "You're much like me in that aspect.
The smile made him proud. "Glad to know I'm not the only one who likes the finer things in life."
"Most people tend to think of wine, food, and women when they say that."
"Most people are fools. Wine goes stale, food turns rotten, and women grow old. The written word stays the same, as does the feeling of success shared between men for a job well done. That is what I see as the finer things." It was why he considered himself to be Daenerys's second Hand. While Tyrion Lannister advised on the realm and its lords, he informed her of the city and what its people thought. He was even starting to consider the idea of King's Landing having someone on the small council.
Rhaenys beamed with pleasure. "That is who you are, Aegon. Never shy away from it. Be a leader when you must. Be a warrior when you have to be. But never forget what you believe in."
"I was already planning to." Despite her status as his ancestor, he didn't need her to tell him what he already knew. "Did you come here to reassure me, or for something else?" A particular thought came to him, which he banished instantly. Not only was she his ancestor (and dead), this was a dream. Some things were a little too strange, even if that dress could tease a man.
"Both, actually. Someone wanted to meet you and I chose to lead her here." Her smile was equally sad and happy. "She's missed you for the longest time."
A strange hope bloomed in his heart at those words. "Is it…my mother?" He looked around, hoping to see her. But Elia Martell wasn't there.
"No. Even though she wedded your father, Elia was a Martell. As such, we have no command over her."
His heart faltered at that, as did his hope. "But then, who is it?" A sudden weight crashed into his chest, stunning the breath out of him.
"Why, who else but my namesake?"
Purple eyes looked down at bright brown ones. He knew those eyes from a distant memory. "Rhae?" he asked.
His elder sister smiled, brightening up her face and the garden. "Hello, Egg. You got big," she declared.
Aegon couldn't help but stare. "You haven't changed." She was still a child.
"Of course not. Why would I?"
He had no answer to that. What could he say to that? "I…I…?" Any apology he could've thought didn't seem enough. So instead, he enveloped her in a hug. "I'm glad to see you again, Rhae."
"Me too," she said. She looked at the book beside his side. "What are you reading?"
He noticed the book too. How long had that been laying there? "It seems to be a book about dragons," he remarked. "How about I read it to you?"
"Okay!"
Together, brother and sister sat beneath the tree and read the book. Their ancestor faded away into the tree's shadows.
Jon
He sat before a fire, Longclaw in his hands. A whetstone laid close by, waiting to be used. But he wouldn't. He had used the whetstone already, when that fire had started dwindling down to embers. Now it was alive once more, burning as if it had been freshly set ablaze. More than that, Ghost was nowhere in sight. This had to be a dream.
He noticed the woman next. She sat on another log, braided hair resting against an armor-covered shoulder. Her armor was exquisite but also well-worn. She had fought in it before and knew how to properly move. There was no weapon on her, but Jon knew it wouldn't have mattered.
"So, this is where you end up," she remarked. "Alone in the wilds, away from your kin." She looked at him with purple eyes blazing. "If my sister or my brother could see you, they would wonder why their descendant was such a craven." Disgust could not have rung clearer in her voice.
He met her fire with ice. "And why should I care what a shade of a woman would think?" If she was surprised, she hid it well. "You're dead, Visenya Targaryen."
"That may be, but I am a head of the Dragon, like you. I didn't shirk my duty to my family and the realm."
"Neither have I."
Her eyes were just as accusative as the finger pointing at him. "Then why aren't you in King's Landing, ruling beside the other heads?" she demanded.
His answer was simple. "They do not need me. Daenerys has loyal men to guide and serve her while Aegon has the ear of the smallfolk."
"You are the sword. You are meant to lead their armies."
Jon scoffed at that, infuriating her. "What point is a sword in peace?"
"You are a fool if you think that peace will last. Another war, another rebellion will break out. It's an undeniable fact of life."
He knew that fact all too well. "If there is to be another war, and my services are needed, I will serve how and where I can. But I will not lay the foundations or be the cause of this supposed war." This time, he was the one who leveled the accusing glare. "Unlike you."
A furious expression spread across her face as she rose. "You dare!?"
"I dare," he answered, ice-cold. "Tell me, Visenya Targaryen, did you ever love your sister?"
"Of course I did."
"Then why did you not support her grandchildren when her son died? Why did you retrieve your own son and crown him?" He did not wait for her answer. "You wanted your own blood to control the Iron Throne."
"No," she denied. "Our House needed a strong leader in time of crisis. Aenys was weak, indecisive."
"And did you know his son would be the same? Maegor could've served as Hand, guiding his nephew against the Faith. Instead, a crown was put on his head and he became a kinslayer several times over. And he ended with nothing but tyranny and a title that people remember instead of his house. The realm nearly put to flame because of him, and you.
"You say that I am craven because I did not stay in King's Landing. I say that I hold faith in the compromise, but I know there will be lords and ladies who would support my child over Aegon's, regardless of who was born first. I will not be a part of that. Aegon's line will rule. Mine ends with me. That is my duty, to give to Westeros by staying away from the Iron Throne."
Visenya was still angry but there was a mournful tint to her anger. "That is not who you are supposed to be."
"It's who I am. Unless you have anything else to say, begone." His dreams were bad enough without ancestors haunting them.
The sister-wife of Aegon the Conqueror did not move from her spot. She trembled with anger while her hands clenched, wanting to strike him. "I should do just that. But that is not why I am here." Her words were tight, almost forced out between her lips. "I am here because it has been decided you deserve a reward. There is someone who wishes to speak with you." She looked out past the fire.
Someone was in the shadows, moving through the trees. "Who is it?" Jon asked, taking hold of Longclaw.
"Someone who wishes to say what he couldn't."
It was cryptic. He had no time for it. "Name him, here and now," he commanded.
Visenya answered. "Your father."
"…It seems that even in death, the Targaryens can command their Wardens of the North to appear." It might've sounded like a jest, but he held a hope that he would see Lord Stark.
Seeing that hopeful look on him made Visenya scowl. "I don't speak of Eddard Stark."
"He raised me, taught me how to swing a sword, how to lead. He is the only father I have known." That was a truth he would hold to his heart until the day he died.
"And what of your true father, the one who sired you?" The shadow moved a little closer to the fire, revealing some details.
Jon scowled hard. "I have no words for Rhaegar Targaryen, nor do I wish to hear his." The shadow froze at his declaration. He took the whetstone in hand, looking it over. "Send him away and leave yourself. I tire of this dream."
Visenya stared, unable to believe what she heard. "You would deny him this chance to speak?" she demanded.
"Aye. He has nothing I wish to hear."
"He is your father!"
He stood up so fast, it took a moment for her to realize Longclaw was pointing right at her face. "He is not my father. He is the man who ran off with Lyanna Stark while he was already married and a father. Aerys might've been the Mad King, but Rhaegar was the one who plunged the realm into war because he didn't think! Because of him, I lost an uncle, a grandfather, a sister, and my mother while two of my kin were forced to flee and another hidden away. That is Rhaegar's legacy to House Targaryen and that is how I will remember him. His words mean nothing to me." Longclaw swung out over the fire, the point directed at the shadow. "Leave and trouble me no more. Not unless you can command the dead of House Stark to appear."
The shadow faded away before it could be revealed. So did Visenya Targaryen.
The ghosts reunited amongst the shadows of Dragonstone. Rhaenys saw Aegon's smile. She knew it well. "I take it you're happy with your successor, brother?" she asked.
"I am," he declared. "Daenerys is the Dragon reborn. She will lead Westeros into a new age, a better one." She had his determination, his strength, and his willingness to listen.
"And Aegon will be there to help her," she assured him. "He'll tell her what people will think and how they will act." He would also be there to lighten her mood with a song or a jape if need be.
Aegon was ready to make a little jest about his namesake when he noticed Visenya had stayed silent. "Visenya, what's wrong?" he asked. "Did you go see Jon?"
She looked at him and Rhaenys. Tears started to well up, threatening to leak out. Rhaenys was surprised by the sight. "Vissy, what's wrong?" she asked, using her old nickname. She had never known her elder sister to cry.
"…Did I truly fuck things up so badly?" she asked them both. Their silence announced their bafflement. "When Aenys died, when I brought Maegor back, did I make things worse?"
Aegon and Rhaenys were still baffled. Visenya had always been the confident one between the three, the one who never doubted. "What happened?"
"I talked with my successor. And he is my successor." She smiled with a strange mix of bitterness and happiness. "He didn't back down when I accused him and accused me in return. Said it was because of me that Westeros nearly fell to ruin. And the more I think about it, the more I can't help but wonder if he was right."
"No, don't think that," Rhaenys told her. "You did what you thought was right, Vissy. You always have." It was that confidence she could depend on and what she loved about her sister. If she had been doubtful, all she had to do was look to Visenya and her confidence.
But even though the words meant well, she had her doubts. "I could've been more supportive of your son, Rhaenys," she said. She had tried, but every time she looked at Aenys, she was reminded of his mother. And that hurt too much. Aegon wasn't the only who mourned Rhaenys when she died in Dorne.
She wasn't sure who hugged her first, Aegon or Rhaenys. She leaned into the shared warmth all the same. "What's happened has happened," Aegon said. "It does nothing to think on it. What we can do is watch as our children take the future in their hands." They have always known that to be true. "At least they enjoyed their reward, small as it might've been."
Rhaenys nod in agreement. Visenya didn't. "He refused his." Again, they looked at their elder sister in bafflement. "He didn't wish to see Rhaegar, nor hear his words. He wanted nothing to do with him. And again, I found I couldn't blame him."
"Were there any Targaryens he would have listened to?" Rhaenys wondered. "Maester Aemon?"
Aegon shook his head. "Aemon had no words for him." At the time, he had thought nothing of it. But now, he remembered the maester looking quite proud. He knew who Jon had become and stood behind it.
There was nothing they could do about it. Visenya knew it now. The Seven Kingdoms might know Jon to be a son of Rhaegar, but he didn't consider himself to be a Targaryen, not where it mattered. To him, he would always be a son of House Stark.
Three people awoke the next morning. The two in King's Landing woke with a happy feeling and smiles on their lips, cherishing the dream that came to them in the night.
The one in the Riverlands woke with a new sense of resolve: even though they had dragons again, Targaryens were still human and were beholden to human desires, even if those desires could send the realm crashing down around them. Which meant he would not allow such a thing to happen.
He continued north, carrying his duty with him. He did not know if he would see Daenerys or Aegon again. Perhaps that would be for the best.
End
Author's note: Thank you for all the reviews you've sent me.
If the books are going where I think they're going with this whole Three-Headed Dragon prophecy (which could be turned on its head and burned to ash), and if the ratios have to the same as before, then it's Daenerys who'll take the Conqueror's spot while Jon and Aegon take Visenya's and Rhaenys's respectfully. One woman, two men, it's the only way I see it happening.
After the Long Night, with the Targaryens taking back Westeros, they ran into the next problem: who would sit the Iron Throne. Daenerys is a woman and infertile, Jon is a bastard, and Aegon's backstory could be doubted. It's grounds for the next war and they couldn't afford that. So, they came up with a compromise: Jon and Aegon would swear fealty to Daenerys, and she would rule. Neither of them would be the heir. Instead, the first son to be born would be said heir. And yes, I said son. They've already got a Queen. They're not going to push it by making equal primogeniture the law.
At this point, the lords would agree, say it was a good idea, and then immediately start focusing on a war of the wombs. Jon realized this might be the case, as well as realizing that this would be another round of Aenys and Maegor. So he left King's Landing without even trying to look for a bride (something I'm sure would upset many a lady). Aegon was married and sire children, the heir would be happy, and there would be no fighting in House Targaryen.
Now, at this point, the story diverges in my head. On one path, Jon keeps to the plan and lives out his life away from King's Landing and House Targaryen, staying in the North and possibly beyond the Wall. Aegon's children will hear about him but never see him. In the end, their children will start to think that their granduncle is just a legend.
But on the other path, Jon finds a surprise waiting for him that forces him back to the south, because of his honor and his willingness to uphold the compromise: a son born during the Long Night and now old enough to have a true name. It would certainly upset what everyone thought would happen, and there would be arguments. But said son would still become the heir. After all, Daenerys, Jon, and Aegon all agreed on the first son, not the first trueborn son.
I like to think that when people die, they are greeted by their families and friends. So when Viserys died, I have no doubts his family, the sane ones, would take him to task for what he did and ended up becoming. Give them a couple of years and I'm sure he would've seen the light, regretting what happened. Of course, going by that same understanding, the Targaryens had a field day when Aerys showed up.
Jon's disdain for Rhaegar comes from what he had known growing up. To him, Rhaegar was always the man who kidnapped Lyanna Stark and raped her. Even as he learned it might've been different, how it was possible the two loved one another, he could acknowledge it. But it wouldn't have changed a thing. He had been raised to be a dutiful son and became a man of the Night's Watch. Rhaegar had a duty to the Seven Kingdoms and to his own family. Yet he threw it all away and ran off with another woman, sending the realm into war.
Yeah, Jon's not going to have nice words for him if they ever meet. It would've best to stop it before it happens.
I'll see you all next chapter!
