Epilogue -Tyrion

By the late Queen Daenerys I shall not weep or sigh on this day. Though winds filled of sadness mount dreadfully to this day, I will let not my grief turn into sobs. Here and now I speak to you as an old man and not your King. Yet here you stand and claim for my story. It has been five years since my sister's burial, today would be her name day. Year after year, the kingdom has celebrated it, for when she was alive the winds were filled with promise and not sorrow. She would have been nine-twenty today and Jon our savior would be thirty. He would have been a good king and a far better ruler than I. And if you insist at this time I will tell you their tale, year after year, month after month and day after day, until the day I die. Please bear witness to what happened at the wall and remind that I was a much younger dwarf in such way that my memory deceives me. The long winter had come and the nights grew longer shadowing all light and happiness, until the day when our enemies reached us with blue glittering death in their eyes. Together we fought, Jon, Dany and me, like Gods nor fearing foe or mortal wound. Fools we were. We lost a part of ourselves that day. Three dragons and three riders we were, after the battle for mankind we were only two dragons and two riders. Drogon was ripped apart from us … and Jon, our savior, at times I believed that he lived through Viserion and Daenerys. The Targaryen Queen ruled wisely and sometimes I would catch a glimpse of Jon's wisdom in her. Cry if you must for the love they shared and for their lost time together. Young people reckon love will prevail, but it is not so. Lovers part and people die it is how they lived that matters. Dany was a good Queen. At the end though, my sweet sister went mad. She trusted it deeply that Jon was alive inside the white dragon and countless times tried to take her own life to join him by living through Raeghal. In one cold dark night she succeeded, no one has seen Viserion ever since her death. Weep not for their fate, all men must die, Valar Morghulis. Daenerys, though, had the grace of knowing love for three times in her life. Jon for twice, whilst I myself found love only once. Her death still weights heavy in my small imp heart. Jon in his turn had the spirit of dying a hero and the will to save the world. He was a true brave prince, a Targaryen King in the making and he died as an honorable Stark man defending the wall. His sacrifice will probably remain unknown to most of the Westeros people, but he fulfilled his destiny. Alas, there it is their song of ice and fire. Jon and Dany the love they shared once filled this world with hope like a blue flower blooming over a wall of ice. The sweetness to taste its fragrance just once was worth a life time, a toast to that.