In the dark corridors of the keep the Targaryen lineage rules Westeros once more. The mother of dragons flurish in the warmth of the people while her brother spend his time by himself.

He was seated on his bed in his chambers. He gently ran a hand through his newly-weded wife's hair, you. His dear younger sister.

"I have made many wrong doings in my life" he spoke. "But this, this I will not regret" he said as his lips touched your forhead.

A moment passed and he gazed down upon you with fond eyes. "My treasure"