Morgana appeared once more before the statue of herself, so faded and changed over time. Seeing the version of herself was slightly poetic, representative of how she felt.
She had lost count of how long she had been in Westeros. How many years had she been traversing this plane? Doomed to love and lose again and again.
She was not who she was when she first met Aegon. She had changed. The Wizarding war felt so far from her now. She was beginning to forget details of Hogwarts that were once carved into her memory.
What was the name of the Hufflepuff that sat next to her in Herbology? What was the first potion she made? What side of his forehead was Harry's scar?
She couldn't quite remember the correct blue of the Ravenclaw ties, the smell of butterbeer, or the feeling of the quaffle in her hand.
The vividness of her youthful memories had faded just like the statue before her.
Her magic had changed. She couldn't remember the last time she needed to use her wand. She was so intuned to the world around her that she could feel all of her Dragon bond. Some were muted, one was alive and well, but fading slightly, and one... well one was just formed.
"A new bond?" Morgana whispered to herself.
She could feel Aerys, but there was another as well.
She disapparated following the bond wherever it may go.
Rhaegar Targaryen was many things.
Heir to the Iron Throne, Prince of Dragon Stone, a warrior, a poet, a kind soul. But he was also an unyielding romantic.
For years he had read the journals of old kings, he had listened to his father's crazed ramblings, he had absorbed each of his mother's whispered tales. He knew since he was a boy that the beautiful woman in the paintings hung around Maegor's Keep would one day be the love of his life.
He would sing songs to her statue and try to imagine how her voice would sound in accompaniment. He would dream of taking her hand and dancing at a grand feast. He tried to guess exactly how the dragon bond would feel.
Some described it as an insatiable hunger.
Some as a slow-burning in your veins that consumed you in passions so completely you lost yourself in your love for her.
The only thing consistent is that every king admitted that words could not do justice to the feeling of being loved by the dragon witch.
He once wrote a song about how he would one day love her. His father heard him singing and became so enraged he smashed the harp and threatened to kill Rhaegar. His father's madness peaked when one subject came into play: The dragon witch.
If anything that only spurred Rhaegar on more.
He too desired to love someone to the point of madness. There was a poetic morbid beauty to a love so true that losing it was like losing one's self.
When he was named Prince of Dragon Stone he found a secret room within its warded walls. The room held statues and paintings of her more provocative likeness. He had certainly spent a lot of time in that room. The innocent love fantasy turned into that insatiable hunger to taste her as he got older.
He hadn't even met her, but he felt he had loved her his entire life.
He sat among the flowers, playing his harp and singing so lovely. His High Valyrian floated through the warm summer air to the tune of the breeze-shaken leaves. He sang of her, the love he had yet to meet.
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The Time Curse (Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon Fanfic)
FanfictionMorgana Slytherin wanted to undo the tragedies of the Second Wizarding War. Tom Riddle had devastated the wizarding population, leaving many of her friends dead or too traumatized to live happily. But time magic is fickle... When her spell goes awry...
