When We Die

by th3val3

Summary:

Rhaenyra Targaryen has already lost two children to the Greens and her fury is felt in every corner of Dragonstone. She nearly took Daemon's original idea to burn the whole city to the fucking ground, but where was the satisfaction in that? No, She wanted to hold the executioner's blade.

Whilst stewing in her rage a foreigner arrived at the castle-turned-fortress, Lady Vanesha of Asshai Priestess of R'hllor. She had heard of how the Queen of Westeros had lost her throne and came with a solution...a deal come from a promise made long ago by one Visenya Targaryen.

All Rhaenyra needed to do was believe in what she already knew, in the fire, in her blood, and in the light.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Notes:

This is a very short taster/very short prologue to a story I may potentially write more for depending on the response I get!

Please read the end notes lovelies! I know this is stupid short.

What happens when we die? Do we simply cease to exist? Perhaps our souls scatter across the universe. Is there an afterlife? Can we watch on as the generations pass and our families grow and fade? Can we watch as our legacy vanishes and others take our place? Kinder, Gentler, Crueller, Mad.

Can we learn from our mistakes?

King Maegor Targaryen the Cruel was found dead on the Iron Throne by Queen Elinor Costayne one morning in the year of 48 AC. He had lingered behind after a war council finding his way to the throne room only to be discovered in such a gruesome display left many wondering. Surely a servant or maid would have seen something, should have heard something, for what had happened was not something someone would sit silently through.

Perhaps one of those spies Maegor despised so much had heard. If they had, they did not speak about it. No rumours came from any of the traders of secrets, and no mistress or master of whispers heard anything beyond speculation.

They found the king with slashed wrists and his head thrust back with a sword pierced straight through his throat. The blood was seeping out of every minuscule wound on Maegor's body. It seeped into the throne and dripped off the blades, now shining in that deathly crimson.

As a ruler, he was not well-liked. They knew him as cruel, after all. Known for massacring the faith, one of the very pillars of the seven kingdoms, it was no surprise to Maegor that he would have enemies.

He simply believed they would have to die. He hated rats, after all.

The night of the war council, the king was on edge, convinced something was coming. The cupbearers and servants on the council could recall his temper from the night, quick to anger and rash. After many a glass of wine, the king ordered the council away so he may be alone–left to brood in the throne room from all accounts.

Yet before the council left, the King had one last thing to say. It was the last thing he ever said. A riddle come from the mouth of an extraordinarily drunk man.

“You may not recognise me at first, but I assure you it’s still me. I always come back.”

Notes:

So I saw a video edit on TikTok of course (by @luc3rys if you want to check it out,) it was about Rhaenyra aka. Maegor with teats and somehow that inspired me to potentially write a fic where we get a resurrected Maegor the Cruel.

I know he was a HORRIBLE person but like it says in the tags "Canon Divergence," being dead can change you, ya know?

Anyway I love the idea of writing a Red Priestess, I understand they aren't all from Asshai and it was only really said that Melisandre was but I love the idea of there being a red temple in Asshai, (the shadowlands beyond even), where they practice and learn magic and sorcery alongside being the Priests/Priestesses of R'hllor. Who in this fic will essentially be the main god, seven be damned.

Okay! If you are interested in potentially getting this fic please let me know so I know that if i decide to write it that it wont fall on its ass lol.

I might write one anyway :D

Val3