"They used to say Targaryens were closer to gods than to men, but they only said that because of our dragons. When the last dragon died, our House's glory died with it. Or so our ancestors, in their weakness, chose to believe. But the last dragon never died. It crawled inside our bloodline and slept. Now it's waking up. It's the itch beneath our skin, the voice in our skulls, our dreams at night, and the hard, scalding truth I feel when I'm inside of you. My dear sister. My mirror. My fucking altar of Fire and Blood. We shall be the rebirth of the House of the Dragon. You and I, Aerea- conflagrated into one being, meant for glory, since the moment of our birth."

He had such dangerous hands, that rarely even touched a weapon. When the death of a good lord shatters the realm's fragile peace, the King's scattered bastards remain - living, breathing secrets. Two bastards of a stag crown find their fates entwined with a realm's ambitions by the very blood that has always marked them as outsider. He could not deny nor downplay it. her ambitions were alarming. a bastard child who can be nothing could also be everything. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ game of thrones oc centered fanfiction. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ sandor clegane and petyr baelish as love interests.