Chapter Text
In the hazy realm between life and whatever lay beyond, three young figures stood together, their faces etched with disbelief and sorrow. The air hung heavy with an otherworldly silence, broken only by the faint echoes of battles fought and lives lost. Shadows draped like heavy cloaks over the indistinct horizon, casting everything in a surreal half-light.
Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey Velaryon, once heirs to the last of the mighty houses of the remnants of old Valyria after its doom, now found themselves in the presence of a being older than time itself—the god of the UnderWorld, Balerion himself.
Balerion, a colossal shadow amidst shadows, regarded the three brothers with eyes that seemed to pierce through their very souls. His presence radiated a palpable weight, a gravity that seemed to bend reality around them. The ground beneath their feet felt insubstantial, like mist swirling around their ankles, as if they stood on the threshold between existence and oblivion.
"You have met your fates," Balerion's voice echoed like distant thunder, carrying both weight and inevitability. "Yet fate is not always unchangeable."
Jacaerys, his youthful face marred by un-cried tears at the memory of Vermax's demise at the hands of the Triarchy and the fate of little egg dawning on him, found his voice first, whispering. "I have failed you, Mother."
"You did," Balerion affirmed, his tone neither condemning nor sympathetic. "But failure should not be the end."
Lucerys, haunted by the clash between Arrax and Vhagar that had claimed his life, clenched his fists and snarked. "Oh!!!, and how is this not the end?"
Balerion's gaze seemed to thunder with a hint of something ancient, perhaps even amusement. "The tapestry of time is not easily rewoven, but it can be influenced by those such as myself."
Joffrey, the youngest and most recently departed, swallowed hard, remembering his ill-fated attempt to tame Syrax during the Storming of the Dragonpit. "What do you mean?"
"You will be given a chance," Balerion intoned, his form seeming to shimmer as if caught in the ebb and flow of existence itself. "To alter the course of your history. To forge a new path, but under a few conditions."
The brothers exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them. They had always been united in life, bound by blood and the shared weight of their House's destiny. Now, facing the harbinger of death itself, they found a renewed resolve.
"The reason you lost is because, you and your kin forgot who they owed their dragons and survival to. It was me!! who gave you protection and became your patron when Aragorn: your first ancestor claimed the ancient morghul and bought the wrath of my king and brother Arrax upon himself."
But Balerion did not stop there, he went on to say. “it was me who begged my sister and wife Tessarion to send a vision of the doom to your ancestor Daenys” then he took a deep breath and said "yet.... you all forgot your gods, abandoned us! Do you know what happens to gods when they are forgotten? They fall into an eternal sleep... you mongrel fools!!!!” Balerion thundered, and the existential plane was silenced as a whole.
Then, with dramatic flair, Balerion continued, "But being the forgiving lord I am, I shall help you right the wrongs done to you and send you back on the condition that you shall open a temple for the fourteen flames in the Dragonmount of Dragonstone and begin our worship till the end of time. For you will need our blessings to survive the long night with the help of the promised prince."
Jacaerys sucked in a sharp breath at that revelation. His reaction did not go unnoticed by Joffrey and Lucerys. "So, we lost against the long winter in the north?" Jacaerys asked, seeking clarification.
"No," Balerion replied solemnly. "Humanity itself defeated the long winter, but not as foreseen. It was not the promised prince(ss) who plunged Lightbringer, but an insignificant individual. Later, the promised prince(ss) was killed by their beloved to satisfy the masses, forever remaining the last Targaryen of this world."
Jacaerys erupted in despair. "DO YOU MEAN ALL OF THIS SUFFERING WAS FOR NOTHING, THAT OUR DEATHS WERE FOR NOTHING!!!!" His outburst surprised Lucerys and Joffrey, who had never seen their level-headed brother in such anguish.
Balerion, with a sadistic gleam in his eye, posed a chilling question. "Do you wish to see what happened to your family after the Dance ended?" Barely able to nod, the brothers were forced to witness the brutal fate that befell their deceased family: Daemon's sacrifice, Rhaenyra's death by Sunfyre, their own deaths, Baela and Rhaena's marriages and heartbreaks, Aegon's melancholy, the death of dragons, the suffering of their descendants through the Blackfyre rebellions, Aerys's madness, and finally, Daenerys's tragic demise. All three fell to their knees in pain and agony, breaking down before the god of death.
After they settled, Lucerys, with darkness lurking in his eyes, asked, "What can we do?"
Balerion explained, "I will send you back to the exact moment when the Blacks and the Greens came to be and changed your destiny. I shall also bless you with one boon each and along the way I shall be blessing you with dreams for guidance. Discuss amongst yourselves and come to a conclusion on what you wish for."
The three brothers looked at each other and began discussing their desires. Joffrey pondered aloud, "What do you think we shall be asking?" Jacaerys, ever the strategist, suggested, "First, Our dragons must grow swiftly, Vermax is beloved, but a mighty, full-grown mount would undeniably bolster our claims." Lucerys sarcastically interjected, "Speaking of legitimacy, we should ask for our hair to silver before we reach our majority."
"Agreeable" Jacaerys agreed. "We should also ask to be born just a year apart, so this time you both would not be leaving me behind to do as you pleased," Joffrey grumbled. Jacaerys and Lucerys laughed and agreed.
Once they had finished discussing, they approached Balerion with their conditions, which he instantly agreed to, and he gave them a blessing of his own, postponing Viserys’s death and granting them more time until the Dance of Dragons, for which they were grateful.
"I agree to your conditions," Balerion stated, "and I shall ensure that you shall have mighty mounts one way or the other to add legitimacy to your claims. Do well, little ones, for the future of your world and House Targaryen depends upon you."
With those words echoing in their minds, the brothers felt the ground beneath them dissolve into mist. Their forms blurred, merging with the essence of the realm beyond life, and they vanished from Balerion's realm and presence, thrust back into the currents of time.