Magic, Power and Glory (Game of Thrones)

Epilogue

All of my 280 years I have been told that I am lucky to be able to live for so long. Mortal men do not understand. They do not need to think about out-living everyone they love, or where they will go when they are 100, but look no older then 35. I think the idea of forever entices them, but they do not see the truth.

I will die soon, but I came to terms with that when Brandon died. Out of everyone who had survived the war, he was the one to die first. The one who was kind-hearted and truly deserved to live forever was the one to die first. I suppose it is another of life's little ironies.

He was 68, and that is a good lifetime for those who have seen as much war as we have, but it is still too young. I remember the way he wheezed while trying to hold on, but the sickness was killing him. He held my hand as he died, and squeezed it before his hand went limp, and I knew he was dead.

Brandon's last words had been for me, as no one else could see him or they may die of sickness. His children, grandchildren, and wife all got to say their goodbyes, but not on the day of his death. Only I was there, and the words he told me are burned into my memory.

"Valyria, do not forget me," he had rasped. "You are the good in this world, and you need to continue to be that. Be there for your descendants, and be there for everyone who needs you. I am scared to go, but I am ready. Goodbye, Valyria. Goodbye, my dearest friend."

Once he wheezed out those words, he gave in and let the sickness take him from the world. I had sobbed and killed three people in an uncontrollable rage that came before my tears. His death still hurts, but it was not the one that hurt me the worst.

The day I lost my best friend had hurt a lot. His death affected me so long that I was in Winterfell for a full turn of the moon before returning to King's Landing and mourning for another week. My heart had felt less whole, and I felt like I was not the same person.

Daenerys died next, and at that point she was like a sister to me. I cried, but not as long as I cried for Brandon. She had married the sellsword Daario Naharis for love, which had angered a few houses. Their children had been pretty, but none of them as beautiful as most Targaryens.

Daario had been in a battle, but when he returned he was heartbroken. He had gone into the streets of King's Landing, started a riot, and then gotten himself killed. Not only did I have to apologise and make peace with my people, but he had turned his children against me for a time.

Rhaegar has married Daenerys' eldest daughter, Rhaelle. They had a son and a daughter, named Aerys and Shaera. As Shaera was the eldest, she succeeded Rhaegar on the throne, and had to marry her brother to keep the Targaryen line pure. It disgusts me, but it is as much a tradition as naming Stark children Brandon.

Lyanna married Monterys Velaryon, and she bore him four children named Jaecarys, Brandon, Monford, and Robert, despite their age difference. They were all attractive children, which I am sure my children were happy about. I did not like the idea of Lyanna marrying a man more than ten years older than her, but it was her own idea so I allowed it.

Eddard married Margaery Tyrell's daughter, who I had not known about at the time. It turns out that she was with child when we made our peace terms, but was not showing yet. Her name was Cersei, and she gave my son a single daughter named Elia.

I had a second daughter with Aegon, who's name was Jocelyn. She wed Lucion Lannister, who was the same age as her. They had three children named Catelyn, Jeyne, and Liana, and they were just as pretty as her. Jocelyn had Stark features, apart from her eyes, which were purple flecked with grey.

My fifth child was named Rickard, after the grandfather I never met. He was more Targaryen then his other siblings, apart from Rhaegar. He had the looks of a dragonlord, and so did his children to Hunter's third daughter, Cassia. They had children named Benjen and Jon.