"You called for me, father?" Moira approached Maekar, gently touching his shoulder not to startle him. They were in the crypts of Sept of Remembrance, stood before statues of King Viserys and Aegon.

There were to spaces between them, meant for Maekar and Alicent, and after Aegon's statue there were the spaces for Maekar's children and grandchildren.

"One day, you and I will be gone, but a memory written in a book by a Maester," Maekar whispered, but Moira could hear him. Her sapphire eye glowed brightly as she stared up at her father. "I will not let our line die by some witches curse."

"You can't leave Westeros now, father, we're at war," Moira said softly, her gaze shifting to Aegon's statue.

"I won't, but you can," said Maekar. Moira's gaze snapped back towards her father as he pulled his dagger out of his belt. The same dagger that killed Aegon. He looked at it for a moment, before flipping it, catching it by the blade and holding it out towards his daughter. "Go on, hold it up to the candle."

"From my blood will come the Prince That Was Promised, and his will be the Song of Ice and Fire," Moira read the inscription.

"Aegon tells of a male heir, but the true translation tells no gender," said Maekar, pushing the blade towards her when she tried to hand it back. "Our histories... they tell us that Aegon looked across the Blackwater from Dragonstone, and saw a rich land ripe for the capture, but ambition alone is not what drove him to conquest. It was a dream."

"And just as Daenys foresaw the end of Valyria, Aegon foresaw the end of the world of men. Aegon saw absolute darkness riding on those winds. And whatever dwells within will destroy the world of the living."

"What're you saying, father?"

"I have seen it in my dreams, I have seen the face of what the North call death," Maekar said softly, his eyes holding a deep pain. "When this Great Winter comes, Moira... all of Westeros must stand against it. And if the world of men is to survive, a Targaryen must be seated on the Iron Throne."

"A King or Queen, strong enough to unite the realm against the cold and the dark. Aegon called his dream "The Song of Ice and Fire." This secret... it's been passed from king to heir since Aegon's time."

"I am not your heir," Moira said, twirling the blade in her hand.

"This war may bring an end to my son's if you do not hurry and kill this witch," said Maekar. "Take Ryoko with you and leave at sunset, I have already sent word to Vaes Dothrak that the daughter of Khal Maekar is on her way, and if so much as hair is pulled from her skull, I'll break every rule in that damn city."

"Do you truly believe I'm capable of completing this task, father?" Moira asked, desperately seeking the confidence she needed. She was skilled with a sword, she was trained by Maekar and Ser Criston, but she had never had to use it before.

"I do," Maekar confirmed, pulling Moira in for a tight hug. "You were named after my mother and I, you know?" Maekar chuckled. "When you were born, I could fit you in the palm of my hand. I held you up in front of the Lord's of the Kingdoms and I said "this is my daughter, if one of you dare brings her harm, I will end your bloodline!"

Moira chuckled tearfully, hugging her father tighter to her.

"You were meant to leave the nest one day, my little dragon," Maekar sighed, kissing her temple. "I just wished it would never be under these circumstances."

"I'll make you proud, father," Moira nodded, stepping back.

"I know."

—————

Princess Aliandra Martell sat on a cold stone floor within the confines of Dragonstone, her heart heavy with worry and fear. Her once vibrant spirit had been replaced by the weariness of captivity. She clutched her three-year-old daughter, Daenerys, tightly in her arms, seeking solace in the innocence and warmth of the child. Cradled beside her was her two-month-old son, Oberyn, a tiny bundle of hope in the midst of despair.

She knew her father and father-in-law will come for them. Maekar had promised before Aegon's death that no matter what, she was a Targaryen now.

A lone tear ran down her cheek as she thought of Aegon.

As the heavy wooden door creaked open, Aliandra's heart raced in her chest. She knew who was about to enter, the infamous and menacing figure of Daemon Targaryen. He strode into the dimly lit chamber, his presence exuding an air of authority and danger.

Daemon's piercing gaze fixed upon Aliandra, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and malice. He took a deliberate step towards her, his voice laced with a threatening undertone. "Princess Aliandra, widow of Prince Aegon. I have come to inquire about your father-in-law's plans and alliances. You will speak, or else..."

Aliandra's eyes met Daemon's, her expression defiant. She held her children even closer, a protective instinct surging within her. She knew the consequences of her silence, but she would not allow her loved ones to be used as leverage against her.

"I will not betray my husband's memory or jeopardise the safety of my children," Aliandra declared, her voice steady, though the tremor of fear was evident.

Daemon's features twisted into a sinister smirk, his patience wearing thin. "You underestimate the lengths I am willing to go, Princess. Your defiance will not protect you or your children. Remember, their lives hang in the balance."

Aliandra's grip on her children tightened, her resolve unwavering. She met Daemon's gaze with unwavering determination, refusing to show any signs of weakness. "You may threaten us, but I will not yield. My loyalty lies with my late husband and our family. No amount of intimidation will change that."

Daemon's eyes narrowed, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. He took a step closer, his voice dripping with menace. "You are a fool, Princess. Your stubbornness will only bring you and your children more suffering. Think wisely before you make your next choice."

With those ominous words, Daemon turned on his heel, leaving Aliandra and her children alone in the darkness. The weight of his threats hung heavily in the air, but Aliandra remained resolute.