Prologue: Winter is Coming with Fire and Blood


Wedded bliss, isn't that what it was called?

Robb would have words with whoever came up that idiotic expression, if he still lived.

Though you could've done much worse, His mind provides as he watches his betrothed walk down the aisle to him. He had to agree with that thought. He might've still been wedding the Frey girl.

But instead, the woman walking toward him was neither the Frey girl nor his previous wife. It was Daenerys Targaryen, the Mother of Dragons and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

It's the only way, He reminded himself. The only way to stop this war.

Daenerys held her head high, looking every inch the Queen she was.

The ceremony was quick, Robb was thankful for that. He didn't have time to let his thoughts wander to just how he had ended up wedding the last of the Tagaryens and becoming King of the Seven Kingdoms. He never wanted the Iron Throne and now he had it, all because he had to join their houses or have his own obliterated.

At least the Lannisters were gone, and their treachery with them, He'd remind himself. Daenerys had made sure of that, killing Jofferey and Cersei herself. The young ones she let go, saying she was not a monster like Richard Baratheon or Jofferey, that she would not kill innocent children for the crimes of their parents.

Then she had taken the Iron Throne for herself, and armies amassed behind her, and her claim to the throne.

Robb had shook with rage at the thought of a Targaryen sitting on the throne again, but seeing her now, equal parts fierceness and gentleness, ruling strictly, but not unkindly, he felt it was true, that she was meant to rule.

And now he was bound to her, bound to her side for however long they both should live.

And he actually wasn't too bothered by that.

It was only nine months later when she gave birth to a son, which they named Eddard after his own father, that he found that he was surprisingly happy with her.

And if the smile on her face as she cooed at their son, and then looked at him was any indication, she was too.


Dany was happy, for the first time in a long while, she was happy.

She was Queen, her husband was a kind man, she had children, and her dragons were having clutches of their own.

It didn't even bother her anymore that she no longer had her own name. She was no longer Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen. She was Daenerys Stark, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm.

If it meant having a whole brood of dark haired children, her children, who smiled and kissed and hugged her and were hers, even if they did not have her pale blonde hair nor her bright blue eyes, it was worth it. She would've given up her name a hundred times over for this chance at happiness.

Something she prided though, was that even if they did not bear the name Targaryen, they all had the blood of the Dragon running through their veins. They were all meant for greatness, and would have it.

They would have it if it was the last thing she made sure of in this world, and in the next.