Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or A Song of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones.

Summary: The Destiny of the world is forever changed when Valaena Targaryen is the first born child of Rhaegar and Elia, especially when she holds a secret thousands of years old. A soul will always find its pair.

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Chapter 1: Valaena Penumbra

Souls.

It was something people from all times sought to learn about.

Were souls real? Did only good people have one? Were people evil without one?

If Harry Potter was asked, he would say yes. Everyone is born with a soul. And sometimes when you're lucky, your soul is tied to someone else's.

Your perfect partner.

An amazing thing really. Something that everyone should wish to have. But it's not always a good thing. One time there was a true pair that was born 54 years apart, and that wouldn't have been too bad, if true pairs weren't born with only half a soul. And unfortunately, without his other half to keep him grounded, the older man went crazy and split his soul more and more thinking it was for immortality, without realizing that his soul was waiting for his other half.

But what was even worse, was that even when he had met his other half, he was not able to recognize him. He had tried to kill the baby. He mind was too far gone and what little soul he had left, it clung to that little boy's soul. And it really just went downhill from there. They fought for almost two decades before that little boy was forced to kill him. As the boy grew up and became an adult, he never settled down, never had children, was never grounded to something.

And it went on as they say, 'die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become a villain'.

Fifty years after he killed his other half, he started a war. A war with the purpose to die, but not just with the magical beings. It was with all the living creatures of the world. He broke the news of magic to the rest of the world and they responded how his other half knew they would. Scared of the unknown, frightened of all that the magical world could do, angry that they couldn't do the same, intrigued and fueled by the desire to half magic, and to get rid of it if they couldn't.

From that point on, everything went to hell. Genocide wasn't even the word, for as much as the muggles took, the magicals give back two-fold. The man gave-no, not gave, he drowned his foes in attack after attack. Every curse killed, every hex destroyed. Fiendfyre became what he was known for. That and the armies of Inferi. They started to call him the God of Death. The dragon he rode, the one he rescued from Gringotts which he called Antares the Nightbringer, they called him the Herald of Death. For when Antares, his sweet, sweet companion roared, it was heard for miles upon miles, letting everyone know what was to come. Fitting names really, after all when he died forty years into the war at the age of 117, he had met Death. Death who called him Master. Death who told him why he did what he did and why it all went wrong.

Of course, at first, he wasn't willing to hear it. Who wants to hear that the first person they had been forced to kill was the one person best fitted for them, a Soul made for them. Not to mention that his other half was another MAN! So no, he didn't accept it. He refused to, he just wanted to move on and be with his family. But that wasn't meant to be. He had obtained all of Death's items and now he had to deal with the aftermath of that.

Unfortunately, that was only the tip of the iceberg. Since he was a true pair, he would only be at peace when he died with his other half, but beyond that, his pair and he had taken the lives of hundreds of thousands of innocent people. Lives that shouldn't have ended as quickly as they did, so as punishment they could not find peace until the two had to be reborn over and over again until all the time they took was used up.

The first couple of lives were complicated. They ended up being the cause if each other's deaths more than anything else. It had taken awhile but eventually, they fell in love.

Each rebirth was different sometimes they were different genders, other lifetimes they were either both males, females or not even human at all. For instance, in one life they were both powerful dragons that live for hundred of years. In some lives they were in a world hundreds of years in the future where the human race had made cars hover off the ground and fly in the air. In others, they were in a past where they lived in fur huts, even before agriculture. In most lives, they fought and conquered in order to find each other, with or without magic. After all, what better way to find someone or to be found than to make yourself stand above the rest, to make oneself so known, famous or infamous, that people far away knew your name.

They lived hundreds of lives, thousands of years, and all the time accumulated so much knowledge, too much knowledge. Of course the vast majority of the knowledge they gained, really didn't help them from life to life. What use was crop sowing when there was no unused land left? What use was biomechanics when there were straw huts everywhere?

Sometimes they would find each other really quickly, neighbors once. One time it took them seventy years to find each other, but what do you expect when you lived on different planets? The primordial gods were fickle when it came to them. The two were favored sure, but the favor of the gods came with a price.

Because they were entertaining.

Because they would do the unexpected.

There was always a price for immortality. Every other life they lived was followed by conflict. Even when they tried their hardest stay away from it all and just stick together there was a war, or a revolution, or something that had forced them to kill. It had become much too easy to kill without remorse. The number of years they had to make up never decreased, they would be stuck like this forever. It had taken their first few lives for them to figure out that Harry couldn't die until Marvolo had been born and died first. It was a curious thing, and when they had asked the primordials why that was, they had laughed and said it was more fun that way. That they believed it was a form of punishment for Harry, the knowledge that Marvolo had to die before he could. But that didn't put a damper on their lives too much, at least they knew what to protect against for the most part.

They had also learned that only Marvolo could identify him, whether he was a man or a woman. So they had decided that in order for Harry to know it was really was Marvolo, he would either call him Harry if he was a male or Regina, from his second life if he was a female. Of course, in exchange, his other half would be called Marvolo, because Voldemort wasn't going to work, if he was a male and Cassandra is a female.

Though an upside to all this was that Harry was allowed to bring back some of the people he lost. Unfortunately, the same soul wasn't allowed back twice in a row nor was he allowed to bring someone back every life. It was great, but it would have been better if he was allowed to bring them back humans, but that was a no as well. Then there was the fact that even if he brought them back, that didn't mean that they could communicate. Sure Harry(or Regina) was able to share thoughts with them and give orders, comfort each other through warmth and snuggling, but there could never again be a heart to heart where he would be able to get advice. It was all a thing of the past.

And so time passed, thousands of lives passed by until they had finally come to the last life, Death had told them so. After this life, they would finally be able to attain peace. Unfortunately, for as happy as they were, the gods always had a different plan.

278 AC

Screams echoed throughout the Red Keep in the sunlit afternoon. Servants ran back and forth between the kitchen and her room, bringing hot water and clean towels, taking away bloody water and towels. The Crown Princess had gone into labor in the morning. Thankfully the first child of Crown Prince Rhaegar and Crown Princess Elia was almost out. Very soon the Kingdom of Westeros would know whether they would have future Crown Prince or a Crown Princess.

Prince Rhaegar and his mother waited outside of the room. The Queen leaned against the wall as she watched her eldest son pace back and forth, worry and anticipation clear on his face. But why wouldn't he be? His wife was already frail, to begin with, this pregnancy had already taken a lot out of her. Who knew what would happen with this long labor.

"Mother...do you think she's-" Rhaegar stopped mid-sentence as he watched darkness fall over the kingdom. This wasn't right, it was still mid-day, the sun was supposed to be at it's highest. Could his daughter-he looked towards his mother, what could this possibly mean?

"Mother, have the gods blessed my child? O...or could this be some sort of omen?" He looked at his mother pleading for her to answer him, but as she was about to open her mouth and tell him to calm himself, loud piercing wails cut through the air. The two looked at each other and then the doors, surely, this had to mean that everything had gone well. That the child in Elia was safely out and breathing the same air they did.

They waited with held breaths until the doors opened and the head of their Grand Maester poked out. "My Prince, My Queen come in."

He stepped out of the way and allowed for the two of them to pass through. They followed the walls to where they knew Elia laid. Only she wasn't. In her place, there was blood, so much blood that panic ran through their bodies. Elia...was she okay?

"Congratulations, Your Highness. A girl." Grand Maester Pycelle said, bring forth a bundle wrapped in cloth.

Arms shaking, Rhaegar held out them out and Pycelle slowly positioned the child into his arms. He looked down at the child and his breath caught, what a beautiful child he held. He could see little tufts of silver hair at the front of hair head, but what really captured him were the eyes. They had opened as she was placed in his arms, only open for a moment but they were a shade of purple that even jewels would be envious of. A cute nose and small bow shaped lips. Tan skin making her features pop out. Rhaegar looked up at Pycelle, the obvious question in his eyes.

"My Prince, My Queen, if I may present to you, The Princess Valaena Penumbra of House Targaryen, First of Her Name."

"Valaena Penumbra?"

"Yes my Prince, Princess Elia said her name must be Valaena. As for Penumbra, my Prince, you see it don't you? The darkness outside. The moment the princess was born the sun was hidden. It is an old name for eclipse."

"What does this mean Grand Maester?'

"I'm sorry my prince, only the gods know, and it is their decisions whether they tell you."

Rhaegar stood silent, he understood the reasoning behind naming her Penumbra. But Valaena. That wasn't what they had discussed, what made her choose this name on her own, Rhaegar did not know, but he would find out. "I see. And how is my Lady Wife?"

"She is resting my Prince. The pregnancy and labor, it took too much out of her. She will be on bed rest for a long time."

A solemn silence descended upon them. Was it some sort of curse put upon them, that the women who carry the Targaryen name would have difficulty having children? Were the gods really that cruel?

"I'm sorry my Prince, it will be a couple of years before she can bare you another heir...should I wake the Princess?"

Rhaegar shook his head, "let her rest." He looked back down at the little babe, his precious firstborn, his little girl. People had told him that even if he didn't feel much for the child during the pregnancy, it would all change the moment he held the child. But he hadn't believed them. After all, how would his feelings change so much in with just a touch? That made no sense. But here he was. And how right they were. This little girl in his arms, his little girl, his princess. She had already become the light of his world.

He brought his little girl up and touched her forehead with his. She would be so beautiful, his Valaena. She was going to have him wrapped around his tiny little fingers, he knew it, it was already happening. He lowered her and brought his other arm up and brushed it along her plump cheek. She was so soft as if even his caress of her cheek was sharp enough to cut them.

"Son," he turned his head toward his mother who had made her way to stand beside him, "Congratulations, she is a beautiful child. But my child, you will have to present her to your father."

Rhaegar's eyes narrowed, his father had become even more paranoid about him as the months passed. Aerys had started to accuse him of trying to overthrow him and put himself on the throne. Unfortunately, no matter how much he and Rhaella had tried to assure him that that wasn't the case, Aerys refused to believe them.

"Must I show her now," he asked, already concerned for his daughter, "can it not wait a few days?"

They stood in silence for a few minutes before Rhaella spoke again, "I'll talk to him. What's most important is that the little Princess is safe."

Rhaegar's shoulders relaxed, "thank you, Mother."

She smiled and nodded her head, before holding out her arms, "may I hold her?"

He held out his arms with an 'Of course' was on the tip of his tongue but it didn't want to leave. He looked down at his baby girl and looked back at his mother. Why? Why couldn't he let her go? His mother smiled softly and dropped her arms, she couldn't hold it against him. This was his first child; when Rhaegar was born neither she nor Aerys was willing to let anyone else hold him for a while.

"Do not worry about it, my child. Your father and I went through the same thing with you. When you need help, call for me." She said softly.

Rhaegar slowly nodded his head and brought his arms back to his chest. A little sniffle was heard and then a full-out wail. Rhaegar looked toward his mother, "I think she needs to feed. But mother I don't want anyone…"

"My Prince, Princess Elia is awake and wishes to speak to you. Please follow me, your highness." A servant spoke up over the wailing.

Rhaegar inclined his head and followed the girl to his wife. It was a short walk to the Princess, but it felt so long. Their hearts broke as they looked upon the paled, frail and weak woman. She turned her head to them, her glazed eyes looked over them as she moved to sit up.

Rhaella was immediately at her side, "no child, do not get up," she said, lightly pushing Elia back onto the bed.

"But my Queen, Valaena...she is...hungry." The tired Princess rasped out.

"A wet nurse will attend to the babe." Rhaella replied trying to appease her good-daughter. Not that it seemed to work. The Princess vehemently shook her head, no she would not allow anyone else to do this-the gods-the gods they whispered into her ear. She knew they did, no matter what anyone would say. The voice said her babe would bring about a-a what? Elia shook her head again, "no my Queen, no one else, I won't let anyone else nurse her."

When Rhaella's mouth moved to argue, Elia's eyes narrowed challengingly until the Queen nodded her head. Elia looked to her lord-husband and shakingly lifted her arms to hold the newborn. Rhaegar looked at her for a long moment before he walked to her and placed their child in her arms. Elia positioned little Valaena before opening her gown and guiding her bare breast to the child's mouth. She winced as the babe greedily sucked on her nipple, such vigor for one born but moments ago.

The moments ticked by until the babe finished her meal and closed her eyes, the world around her of still darkened and no interest for now. Elia tucked her breast back into her gown and gingerly set the baby against her shoulder and patted her back. The burp came soon enough and Elia settled the baby beside her. She looked at her baby for a while, such a beauty the child will be, she could just tell.

"Elia," Rhaegar whispered as to not wake the baby. She turned to look at her lord-husband, understanding in her eyes, "what are your questions Rhaegar."

"How are you? No-don't answer that."

Elia smiled softly, "I'm tired, but I'll be fine."

Rhaegar looked unconvinced but let it go. He asked the other question that was on his mind, "Why did you name her Valaena? I thought we had agreed that we would name her Rhaenys or Visenya?"

"I know."

"Then why did you not?"

Elia sighed and moved slowly to lay on her side, facing her baby, she stroked the child's cheek.

"Elia."

"I heard a voice." She said softly, looking her lord-husband in the eyes.

"A voice?"

"It told me that her name should be Valaena." Elia stated softly her eyes drifting between open and close.

Rhaegar looked around at the servants surrounding his lady-wife, "did the rest of you hear anything?"

They all shook their down facing heads, they didn't want to do anything against their Lady but, it was their Prince asking. Rhaegar turned back to her ready to ask more questions but stopped upon seeing that she had fallen asleep. He turned to Grand Maester Pycelle, questions in his eyes.

Pycelle shook his head, "she is on the milk of the poppy my Prince, her mind just imagined it." Rhaegar gave a nod of understanding.

"Valaena is a fine name. As the mother of Aegon and his sisters, she was a formidable woman. It is a strong name." Rhaella interrupted, and she had a point, Rhaegar thought, Lady Valaena Velaryon was a formidable woman who was able to keep her children in check until Aegon had decided to got out and conquer the Kingdoms of Westeros. And if rumors were true, they had still listened to her word until Valaena had moved on.

Rhaegar looked back down and took in the sight of his sleeping lady-wife and newborn. By the gods how he wished he had been able to take Elia to Dragonstone like he had wanted, but his father had intervened and put an end to that, not that that would stop him from trying again. He stroked his baby's cheek, quickly bringing his hand to his chest as she squirmed at his touch. A light sleeper it seemed.

"Let us leave," he whispered to those in the room. Other than his mother, they bowed and swiftly exited the room. Rhaegar was the last to leave, he closed the door behind him and leaned his back against it. It had finally sunk in, he was a father now. He had a little baby girl that would look up to him and depend on him.

He thought back to how he had even gotten married in the first place. Initially, his father was going to send Steffon Baratheon out to find him a bride, but the King had changed his mind overnight, stated that there would never be a woman with enough Valyrian blood and social standing to match his son. So he had decided the Rhaegar should marry the Princess of Dorne, no matter her 'filthy blood', she was the only one that could fit his expectations, Aerys announced, uncaring of the offense he was so clearly flinging at the royal family of Dorne.

Within a month the two had been wed, they were not in love but after all these months, there was definitely close enough affection to be called love.

"So you are really a father now huh?"

Rhaegar looked up and into the eyes of his best friend. He smiled softly, looking back down at the floor, "yes."

"She's going to be a beauty."

"Yes."

"We are going to be swing out swords at every man within ten feet over her."

"Yes."

"You are already wrapped around her finger."

He looked back up at his most trusted, "yes."

A girl.

She was a girl again.

She was a girl in the medieval times.

She was a girl-no a Princess in medieval times.

She was a Princess in medieval times seeing a ghost.

She was Valaena Targaryen First of Her Named and it seemed she couldn't catch a break in this life either.

The sun only shone again on the next day.