Story cover for The Price of Fire by averillaratargayen
The Price of Fire
  • WpView
    Reads 4,067
  • WpVote
    Votes 59
  • WpPart
    Parts 38
  • WpHistory
    Time 15h 40m
  • WpView
    Reads 4,067
  • WpVote
    Votes 59
  • WpPart
    Parts 38
  • WpHistory
    Time 15h 40m
Ongoing, First published Jun 13
"There are things beneath the skin of the world that do not breathe, but hunger. 

They move in silence, cloaked in myth, hidden in the folds of time and shadow. Their names have been lost, buried beneath war and fire, their worship long forbidden. But they endure.

In forgotten places-beneath mountains, beyond the reach of moonlight-a cult thrives in secret, ancient as the first spilling of blood. 

They are not men, nor wholly beast, but something colder, older, something that drinks from the living to remember what it means to feel alive.

Most believe such creatures belong to stories, whispered to frighten children. But stories have roots. And when the world is distracted by dragons and thrones, the dead find space to
rise."


•



The Dance of the Dragons had come to an end, with the greens victory. And whilst one holds a secret, it seems the fight is not yet over.

"Leave one dragon alive, and the fire never dies."

•

ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO GEORGE R.R MARTIN & HBO STUDIO
All Rights Reserved
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These Ashes Between Us | A. Targaryen by favblondie1
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Born in the heart of fire and blood, Saera Velaryon, the eldest daughter and heir of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, was a child beloved beyond measure-a princess draped in adoration, raised to believe the Iron Throne was her birthright. The realm called her *Saera the Spoiled*, for she had never known a world where she was not treasured. But war does not spare even the most cherished. When the Dance of the Dragons erupts, the realm fractures between Black and Green. Prince Aemond Targaryen, the one-eyed rider of Vhagar, stands at the forefront of the war, a blade in the name of his mother, Queen Alicent Hightower, and his brother, King Aegon II. A warrior forged in anger, ruthless and unyielding, but was his sword ever truly theirs to start? Aemond harbors a secret-a devotion that undermines the very cause he supposedly fights for. For all his wrath and violence, his heart has been lost to Saera since childhood, bound to her by longing, by fate, by a love neither of them dared to name. When duty and desperation forced them into an marriage before the war broke, their union was meant to be a bridge between Green and Black, a political bond to quell animosity and resentment. But beneath the weight of war and betrayal, behind closed doors and whispered confessions, *love*-unyielding, undeniable-has already taken root. Their love is a treasonous thing, a flame burning between two sides sworn to destroy each other. And in the end, when the blood of kin stains the realm and dragons fall from the sky, Aemond must make a choice-his family or his wife, his crown or his heart. For what is duty when weighed against devotion? And what is a throne when set against love? _ "And then the storm broke, and the dragons danced."
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