Notes:

This story is long and builds slowly. This story follows the books closely and assumes that you have read them and that you have some knowlege of the show. The canon divergences are introduced fairly quickly, but some divergences do not change major canon events while others do. Some chapters are very short because they are bridges between already established events and events that are unique to this story. Some characters, whom I love dearly, are 100% staying with their book canon, so their stories do not pick up until 'Feast for Crows' and 'Dance with Dragons' events begin to appear in this story. The story spans a period pre-canon through the spring after Azor Ahai returns. I will attempt to fulfill and explain as many prophecies as possible.

Not everyone who died in the original story will die in this tale. That being said, after the story passes canon there will be deaths before the end.

Content warnings as appropriate for this fandom, if a chapter contains disturbing content I will put a warning in the beginning notes. I tend to not use "curse" words, sex scenes are rating appropriate.

There is one major original character, added because I wanted to explore female bastards, especially in the context of House Stark.

I update regularly and will write few notes throughout the story.

The Never-Ending Sacrifice

End of the Battle for the Dawn

8,000-10,000 Years Ago

As told by scattered tribes calling themselves free folk.

Three brothers stood with their armies beside them. Behind them a wall of ice, four hundred feet high. One brother was dressed in all black, he was the second born. The second was clothed in wolf pelts, he was the youngest brother. The third wore silver and grey furs and bore an iron crown upon his head. He was the eldest brother and King of Winter.

"It's done. She is defeated," said the middle brother.

"No, she will return. We have only weakened her," the king replied.

"But the deaths, this wall of ice, your sword..."

"She survived. Dawn has broken and her spells have faded, but she was not destroyed."

"Then it was all in vain? The death of your wife?"

"No. It was her death that allowed the sun to rise again. Her blood that wounded our foe and gave strength to the wall that will protect us. May my children forgive me."

The youngest brother finally spoke. "I will have no part in your kingdom, neither will my people. Blood magic defies the gods."

"Where will you go," the king asked.

"We will remain here beyond your wall, free of the blood upon which it was built."

"If you remain on this side you will not be safe."

"No, but we will be free."

The youngest brother then turned his back and led his people into the wilderness away from their brothers. With a sad shake of his head the king turned to his other brother.

"What of you and your men?"

He looked thoughtfully between his elder and younger brothers. "We will remain on your side of the wall. We will watch and wait for her and her creatures to return. We will guard the realms of men from this night until the end of days."

"You will be needed. Some day men will forget how dangerous she is. Perhaps they may forget the sorceress at all."

"Then we will remember for everyone."

"We must, for surely the north will not forget that winter will come again."

So it was agreed. The eldest brother would return as King of the North. The middle brother would remain as the first Watcher on the Wall. The youngest brother, unwilling to bend to the eldest, would lead his people in freedom and peril beyond the Wall.

The Prophet Vellan

About 5,000 years ago

From pieces of parchment in the library of Valyria; lost with the Doom.

In those days it shall be that the Long Night will come again. There will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world. In this dread hour a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before him. From the blood of this first hero will he be reborn. And there with him will be two others. Warriors to ride beside him. Together they shall slay the ancient evil, the Great Other. The curse shall be lifted and the darkness will never haunt the world again.

Aeneya the Dreamer

3,000 years ago

Copied from the writings of an anonymous scholar; rumored to be kept in the vaults of a prominent family in Volantis.

Blood

A river of blood covering a wasteland of snow.

Two great armies converging. A host of people from all ends of the earth. A host of monsters. Some dead bodies with blue eyes that walked and fought like mortal men. Leading them were creatures of ice.

Above them all three winged shadows, screeching and soaring in the sky. From their mouths fire, causing the hearts of men and monster to quail. Upon the back of each winged beast a warrior.

Theirs will be the song of ice and fire.

Three dragon riders born of fire and blood and ice.

One shall wield the sword of heroes. The flame of Lightbringer. He shall be Azor Ahai reborn. Of the same blood as the first hero he will be, and darkness shall flee before him.

One will wake dragons from stone. All the earth shall tremble in terror before the rider who wakes the dragons. The armies of the world will gather before and praise the Dragon Prince.

Three heads the dragon must have. Life and death and love. For the third will be a healer to bind the broken lands and peoples.

In fire and blood. When the Long Night falls again upon the world. The dragons will return and the heroes will defeat the ancient foe. There will be three. Three dragons. Three riders. Three heroes to wake the dawn.

Queen Naerys Targaryen

Around 180 years after Aegon's Conquest

"Mother?"

"Yes my love?" The queen looked down at her young daughter and smiled. She could not help but smile at her children, especially young Daenerys when she was trying to stay up past her bedtime.

The girl wore a solemn, serious expression. Upon an adult it would be regal, upon a six year old it was precious. "Will there ever be dragons again?"

Naerys sat beside her daughter and stroked her silver-gold hair. I have seen their return in my dreams. "One day they will return. It was prophesied long ago. Do you remember the words of our house?"

She scrunched her little nose. "Fire and blood."

"Our ancestors chose those words because the promised prince will wake dragons from stone. With fire and blood the prince will defeat evil and unite the realm and his will be a song of ice and fire."

"Why ice and fire?"

"No one knows. The prophecy was made so long ago that much has been forgotten."

"Will the prince marry a princess and live happily ever after?"

The Queen kissed her daughter on her head. "Of course my sweet little one. Now it is time to sleep."

The girl yawned and nodded, curling against her mother's side. It was not long before she was sound asleep. The dragon must have three heads too. No one knows why that is either. Perhaps for our house, perhaps.

Princess Rhaella Targaryen

Summerhall

259 years after Aegon's Conquest

In duty she had wed her brother Aerys. The prince who was promised will come from myself and my brother. The woods witch promised us that, but prophecies are dual edged swords and people lie. Her father believed in the promised prince. Her grandfather believed in the promised prince. So Rhaella and Aerys were wedded and bedded. Upon learning that Rhaella was pregnant the planning began.

They gathered at Summerhall when the end of her term drew near. Almost all the royal family was there. Almost all their closest companions where there. Along with a sorcerer and the last petrified dragon eggs the family had kept safe since the last dragon had died.

Her father and husband were not there when she went into labor, they were away in King's Landing. Her maids, maesters, and midwives told her that a feast was beginning in the great hall for the occasion. A feast and a funeral. Blood magic is accursed. There was to be a blood sacrifice upon a pyre when the new prince or princess was born. The King was certain that this child would be the prince that was promised. This child would wake the dragons.

Rhaella had scarcely pushed her child into the world when the screaming began. It was a loud, unearthly sound which rang out across the courtyard. The sound of a hundred voices crying out in terror. They could see the flames beginning to burst through the windows and roofs across the courtyard.

"A son," the maester told her, his voice quavering. "A prince, your grace. I am afraid we must get out before those flames reach us."

She nodded frantically. They helped her clean up and dress hurriedly. They whisked her and her newborn son outside. They found a small gathering of frightened people who had safely escaped the conflagration. Together, they watched as Summerhall burned.

There were no dragons that came to life that day. Only a newborn prince and countless deaths. Some whispered that he was the promised prince. They told Rhaella that the sacrifice was not in vain. The blood, salt, and smoke, surely that meant he was the promised prince.

They named him Rhaegar. Rhaella could only pray that the sacrifices made for his birth were not in vain. As he grew, did not disappoint as a son or a prince. He was kind, intelligent, well learned, and a good fighter. He was her pride and joy. Surely none of the pains it took to bring him into the world were mistakes. Surely he was the prince that was promised.

Years later on Dragonstone, when her baby girl was born, she could only see how flawed prophecies were. Rhaegar was dead. His children were dead. Only little Viserys and Daenerys were left. Perhaps the prophecy would be fulfilled through them. Perhaps they were just fools. The Queen died before the storms quieted that day. She would never know that the prophecies were about to be fulfilled.