Fire and Blood

In his dreams he is a dragon, flying high above the world. He is free. He opens his eyes to the feeling of chains binding him, heavier than iron.

Chains of obligation, honor and blood. Voices whispering inside his head, causing a dull pain in his temples. They speak of fire and blood and war.

The story of the ancient house Targaryen, of the birthright that was taken from him.

He gives his sister away without a thought, the prize for winning an army. He does not hear her pleas, as the shadows of the dead scream for vengeance. I'm sorry I have to do this to you, he wants to say, but his word are lost among the cacophony, his own wishs insignificant against his duty. He is bound in an invisible web, tangled up in love and hate and the longing for a home he barely remembers. Sometimes, in rare moments of painful, cold clarity, he realizes what is happening to him. He knows then that the voices tell him of his own madness.

In his dreams he is a little boy again, face flushed with excitement and shining with the innocence of youth. His brother throws him into the air, higher and higher. Rhaegars face is serious, but his eyes are filled with mirth. Fly, little brother, he whispers, fly like a dragon.

A/N: After watching the first episode of the new series, I just had to write a story. Please tell me what you think. (Reviews are like chocolate. They make me happy.)