Prince's Angel

Dreams, Desires and Cold Reality

That night, Seraena dreamt of fire- again.

She dreamt of fire rising to the sky, tongues of flame licking the full moon.

She dreamt of ice, frosty-blue hail and snow, so freezing and thick it blocked the skies and buried the land beneath, within countless layers of snow and ice, thicker than a castle wall.

She dreamt of Rhaegar in his armour of red and black, black plate with a dragon, red as blood, decorated with rubies. His indigo eyes were warm and he smiled at her. 

She heard his voice: 'Love guides us,' and 'The dragon has three heads.'

Suddenly, a cloud of fire burst and turned green, an impure, terrifying poisonous green as dangerous as the Killing Curse, if not more. The fire rose, threatening to engulf the Red Keep. 

She dreamt of her three eggs, one the colour of fresh buttercream streaked in gold that gleamed. One a deep, lush green, flecked with bronze that flickered and ran whenever she turned it, the other black, a deep black as a sea at midnight, with scarlet ripples and swirls, undulating and moving throughout.

The three eggs were laid in three cradles, the babes moving, swaddled in soft cloth and secure.

She dreamt of the figure of a woman dressed in the finest silks and Myrish lace, a graceful crown upon her head, a dragon on her shoulder. Its scales were molten gold. Its cry was a shrill screech that grew into a roar that engulfed the land.

Then, the fire was back; green and choking, and the ice, the ice which stung and stabbed her, worse than any Valyrian steel blade. They threatened to choke her, to weigh her down, to burn her and kill all those she loved. 

The fire on one side, the ice on the other, the sound of voices like crackling ice amidst the shriek of the dragons and the chanting of Belaegor's red priests, Seraena knew they were coming, coming closer...

She saw the Iron Throne, dark, sickening, menacing and threatening, unlimited power. Madness personified. It rose, towering in the air, the shadow causing darkness to all. And within the towering, dark, grim monstrosity, a man was seated within, gaunt and hunched, a heavy crown of red-gold upon his head, its points three dragon heads with jewels for eyes. His hair and beard was long, straggly, unkempt and matted, his fingernails grown long, like talons, but Seraena recognised Aerys. 

He grasped the arms of the throne, blood seeping from the cuts on his fingers, gained by the throne itself, dripping onto the floor, down the steps to mingle with the blood pooling down there. Blood which she saw in horror and terrible fear, that flowed like a river to the sea... An ocean full of blood, and an island of corpses and ash.

She was surrounded by them. And then the flames were back, the cracking ice and snow. And she swore she could have seen eyes so blue they shone like stars amidst the sleet and ice. 

Seraena was surrounded by islands of corpses, seas and rivers of blood, and mountains of ash. She was surrounded by piles of corpses, corpses which she saw in horror, began to shudder and move, and pull themselves to their feet, reaching for her and all those she cared about.

The ice and fire rose.

A fevered glint was spotted within Aerys' eyes, a wild, evil, maniacal glint within his feverish lilac orbs. 

"BURN THEM ALL!" He shouted as Seraena jolted awake.

The next morning, Seraena awoke, somewhat sore. That was predictable. She did not know if she felt more sore the second night or the first, but she knew conception would surely follow. She was still haunted by her dreams, terrified, especially as it was the same dream. But she had other worries than visions in the night.