The next morning, Saesha awakes to the sound of horns far below her room. She finds her husband absent from the bed, his side quite cold. After donning a robe, she finds herself at the window staring down, watching her vassals scurry about. For some reason, she thinks of Brynden, burning ants as a child through the Grand Maester's magnifying glass.
Is this what our ancestors did, sister? Or was there more grace in their power?Suddenly, a man bursts in wearing her houses's livery. "My lady! We must ascend to the top! Your husband is already awaiting you!"
Now she is sprinting up stairs. So many stairs. They never seem to stop. The tower never seems to end.
Finally, they reach the last door. It is ugly, covered in freshly carved runes. Not Valyrian. Before she can properly look at the designs, she is lead roughly through the threshold.
This room is vast, and encircled by windows so her husband might view his vast dominion. In the center, near the black throne, are four men Saesha has never met, and never will. The other four towers rise up in the distance, like four more fingers outstreched to claim the Heavens. There... past the other towers... tiny lights... It must still be night. Against her better judgment, she turns to face the sun.
Whether via the logic of dreams or memories of his great skull above the Iron Throne, she recognizes the Black Dread as it soars between the towers. On his back rides a man she cannot clearly see, but knows to have the same face as her brother Daemon. The horns calling to action has ceased, or perhaps she is simply too far above to hear them.
"They have fled. Or betrayed me. A small trifle. We will rebuild, and have more sons." She feels something like a hot branding iron touch touch her belly, pressing her into the grasp of her husband. Managing to tear her eyes away from her certain doom, she turns to look at the man holding her.
"After all, what is dead may mever die..."
Her husband looks out the window, as though testing his theory. Balerion hovers outside the window, her brother Daemon screaming in High Valyrian, as he points Blackfyre at her.
"DRACARYS!"
The four men by the throne leap forward to shield Saesha and her husband, but is it a futile gesture as they are transformed to ash by the power of old Valyria. Yet even as the remains of his fly in their faces, the old man, wreathed in flame sometimes keeps speaking, his hand latched to her belly.
"Forty years I toiled on this place!" Screeched the mad king, never quite burning up. "Three archmaesters I set to erecting my legacy! I biult in tears and blood and shadow and stone, girl! These things do not burn!"
When the flame finally takes her in the dream, it is painless.
*****
The next morning, she awakes to the sound of horns far below her room. She finds her husband absent from the bed, his side quite cold. As she grabs a robe, she notices the burn on her stomach. It looks and feels as though she must have recieved it years ago. Ihe handprint's fingers encircling her womb.
Suddenly, a man bursts in wearing her houses's livery. Saesha recognizes him as her husband's brother from her wedding. Nyles. His left eye is torn while blood drips down his side. "My lady! We must descend to the bottom! Your husband will be joining you soon!"
*****
The next morning, she awakes to the sound horns far below her room. She finds her husband by her side. Reflexively, she grabs hold of his figure. Instead of the strong body of Belric, she grasps a ragged, boney form. She smells ash as she ceases her cuddling.
"What is dead may never die," mutters the charred spectre of Harren.
Saesha finds herself trying to pull away, but cannot. His sons are there too, holding her down with their hot hands. "The child is mine, Targaryen whore! Blood begets blood, does it not?"
*****
The next morning, she awakes to the sound of horns far below her room. She finds her husband absent from the bed, his side still warm. As she grabs a robe, she notices the burn on her stomach. It looks and feels as though she must have recieved it years ago. Ihe handprint's fingers encircling her womb. It is a few moments before Saesha believes she is quite awake.
(King Harren's Revenge- Black of hair, black of eye, black of heart. You're his favorite. Result: TAILS. Roll Result: Minor. Saesha suffers a Light Wound)