The Dance of the Dragon’s came to a fast end when Rhaenyra managed to take the throne from Aegon, giving him a choose to either die by her hand or live his days at The Wall; disinherited and alone.

The snow crunched beneath his boots as he stepped out of the wooden elevator at the top of The Wall, the air feeling bitter and cold which was a testament to his situation. “Gods…” he muttered, looking out at the pale view.