Morgana appeared once more at the foot of her own statue, she felt less dizzy than she had the first two times 

Her marks were once again white as snow, signifying a restart of the clock. She had spent weeks almost months with Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys, but only days with Aegon ii. That meant that the clock varied wherever she was and she had no idea how long she'd be there for. 

Twice to love and lose was painful enough. She wondered if she stayed there long enough could she run out the clock? Could she wait it out, skip whatever her next doomed love would be? Or would the markings stay white until she fulfilled whatever she was meant to do here?

But then she felt it... 

Her magic hummed to life with a desperate rage. She felt a physical weight of anger she had never felt before. Her steel grey eyes closed, trying to focus on where her magic was telling her to go. Her eyes snapped open once more and she knew she was headed to war. 

She wordlessly transfigured her dress into her Auror uniform, black and deadly and ready for battle. She took a stone off the ground transfiguring it into her recognizable silver serpent's crown. The same one that was carved in stone, sat on the head of her marble counterpart. 

She didn't yet know what she was here for but she knew one thing, a lot of people were about to die.

The markings on her wrist were already beginning to fade grey, she would not be here long, a few days at most. But her senses warned her that she was here for battle. There was an already established bond drawing her in, telling her whoever was at the other end had met her before. 

She felt his pain, his torment, his humiliation. She felt him cry out to her down the bond and she knew he felt it come back to life, whoever he was. 

She apparated where her magic was telling her to go and prepared to go to war for a man she had not yet met. 

Tywin Lannister was at a loss. The people of Duskendale had kidnapped his friend and king, Aerys Targaryen. He stood outside the city gates an army at his back and yet if he wished for the king to live he could not approach. 

Tywin was the hand of the king, a damned good one at that. He was known for his fantastic strategies and political cunning and yet he had no idea what to do in this situation. 

He had no idea how to proceed.

The Lord Hand felt her presence before he saw her. The field of warriors and the people of Duskendale grew unnaturally quiet as they felt an ancient rage in the air. With a crack like lightning, she appeared, standing tall at the front of his army. 

The sky itself darkened under her anger. Her black onyx curls blew in the wind that had not been there moments prior. She was dressed in black, and though no armor clung to her curves it felt as if she didn't need it. All eyes fixed on the familiar serpent's crown that rested on her head and in that moment every one knew, the war was won. 

Because the Dragon Witch had just joined the fray, all should fear when the serpent goes to war. 

Tywin's eyes widened. He had not seen Morgana since his youth when she was with Aerys. Aerys was always obsessive about her, refusing to let anyone so much as look at her. But the few conversations he had with the ancient witch made one thing clear, she was not one of them. 

She was no mortal, she was bound to no king nor god, for she was her own ruler, her own god. She was peaceful and kind until she wasn't. 

All men fear what they do not understand and none could possibly understand the connection between a serpent and a dragon. 

Her eyes met his and he felt a pressure in his head, a searching feeling that was not his own. She seemed to have found what she was looking for as her rage had amplified tenfold. The earth itself seemed to suppress under the weight of her wrath. It was at that moment Tywin Lannister knew no members of the House of Darklyn would live to see the sunrise.

Morgana wanted to be good, and she tried to be good, but at the end of the day Morgana was a Slytherin with a dark magical core, and someone tried to take from her. 

She pulled the stick from her cloak, an object that could create both miracles and untold destruction. She held it to her throat as her voice echoed through the silent city. 

"Citizens of Duskendale... Your Lord has condemned you to death. I pray whichever gods you fear have mercy on you, because I most certainly won't... As for you, Lord Darklyn... I am going to retrieve what is mine, you are going to die, but how quickly you meet death entirely depends on you. The end result will be the same regardless so make your choice. Release Aerys now and I shall make your demise quick... Though not painless." 

Her words were hauntingly emotionless. Not loud, not angry, just the ineffable promise of someone who bothered to play with the mortals for a time. 

"We fear only the gods, witch! We do not fear you." The lord screamed out from behind his walls. Walls that everyone but him seemed to know would not protect him against the god before him. 

"Morgana!" Tywin called out, breaking from his stupor to join her side. 

"Tywin, I presume? I have not met you yet. Time is strange, I never seem to meet anyone in the right order." She still held a face of indifference but her glowing silver eyes demonstrated the true depth of her rage. 

"What do you plan on doing?" Tywin asked. 

"They think me a monster... I intend to prove them right." 

For a moment, Tywin worried for the enemy. With that, she turned her attention back to the city and in the blink of an eye, with the thunderous clap of lightning, she was gone.

She stood on the tallest tower inside the city walls. The prideful lord's son called out to her in terror begging for her to be reasonable. The people below begged the vengeful god for mercy, but she found non within herself. 

Her voice echoed through the air so that even the king's army could hear, "Warning you all was my mercy. You torture my king and then ask for mercy when vengeance comes...In spite of your hypocrisies, I have asked that you get. out. of. my. way. and give me what is mine. But you have failed to do so and you have exhausted my limited patience. I do hope you understand that even now... what's about to happen... this is me being reasonable. You say you do not fear me... You. Will." 

Her magic spread through the air, golden and glowing and angry. 

"Crucio usque ad Mortem!" 

A spell of her own devising. A combination of two of the unforgivable curses: the cruciatus and the killing curse. A mixture of Red and green creates a golden horror. 

Torment to death. 

The people screamed in agony, tears of blood streaming down their faces. The sky went red and the earth shook beneath their screaming. To die of pain is the most unforgivable fate. The King's army also stood in horror, hearing the cries of the people. Some began crying at the display, never had they witnessed such complete destruction. 

The Dragon Witch calmly walked down the stairs, humming amidst the screams as people writhed in agony until their hearts inevitably gave out. 

She followed the bond, making her way down the stone stair toward the dungeon. She stepped over the guards corpsed as she cast a wandless Alohamora. The door swung open revealing a white-haired man chained to the walls. There were patches of his beard ripped out, blood clung to his sweat-soaked skin. His muscles spasmed every once in a while. 

He lifted his head, hearing the door open. Purple eyes met grey and his soul returned to him. "Morgana?" He whispered to himself, praying that she was not another illusion. 

No... He knew she was not an illusion. Because even in his previous hallucinations where she was at his side, his mind could never conjure up the true feeling of the bond. Not even his imagination or madness could replicate the real thing. So as he felt that void fill once more, as he felt his soul hum, finally reunited with its other half, he knew she was there. 

"Hello, Aeyrs." With a wave of her hand, the chains on his wrists released and he collapsed into her awaiting arms. He clung to her, taking in the familiar scent of lavender and honey, and his heartfelt restored. 

His hold was possessive and a bit maddened. She set him down muttering a few healing spells. He felt the pain fade as her fingers combed over his body. He shivered under her touch melting under the contact he had longed for since his youth. 

Aerys was an old man now, but she remained ever youthful, ever-present, and oh so fucking beautiful. He was afraid to reach out and touch her face, his hands felt too unclean to taint her perfection. 

His wounds stitched themselves back together his broken fingers mended under her magical touch. His hesitation to touch her evaporated as he saw the grey marks peaking out from under her sleeve, taunting him. He grabbed her shoulders, his absurdly long fingernails digging into the black leather of her sleeves, "You will not leave me again. I will not let you." Aerys hissed, his joy turning to rage in a moment. 

Her face remained calm and caring as she took his hands in hers and helped him stand. He was fully healed now, but still weak. He leaned on her small form for support. 

Suddenly as if the flick of a switch, his madness returned and his own fantasies became his reality. In his mind, he was no longer an old man, he had not been tortured, in fact in his mind they were still at dragonstone, basking in the summer sun and making love on the sand. 

One hand gripped her hip, the other her soft face, he kissed her, just like he had a thousand times in his youth. Morgana almost cringed at the vile taste of his tongue, but the bond within her stopped her from pulling away. He pushed her against the stone wall, clammy shaking hands refamiliarizing himself with the curves of her body. None could replicate the feeling of having Morgana Slytherin beneath him. 

He kissed down the length of her neck, one hand gripping her silky onyx hair as other gripped her thigh trying to pull her closer. 

"Aerys." She whispered breathlessly, trying to grab his attention. He looked at her once again returning to the present as he met her silver eyes. 

He was not on dragonstone. He was not eighteen and sane anymore. He was old man, a king, a "mad king". His hands slide back to her waist, allowing her to step away from the cold stone wall. He might of changed since then but she had certainly not. 

She was the same and she was still his. 

He did not care for his sister-wife Rhaella, nor his son Rhaegar. If burning them meant a few minutes more with her, he would give the order without a second thought.

But the markings on her wrist her darkening quickly and he knew she would be gone soon. His grip on her tightened as she led him out of the dungeons and back into the light of day. Always his savior, his Morgana. 

Tywin watched in awe as Morgana carefully led Aerys out of the city gates. The screaming was silenced as all lay dead in the quiet keep. After a moment of quiet, the king's army cheered seeing their king saved by the ruthless dragon witch. 

Tywin saw the way Aerys touched her, publicly displaying their affection with slightly inappropriate placement. Just like when they were young, he held her in a way that claimed her as his. His hand placement served as a threat to all that looked at her. His hand was placed slightly too low on her back, pulling her so close it looked as if they were attached. 

Memories of Aery's obsessive nature resurfaced and Tywin began to worry because he too saw the dark grey markings on her wrists. She was going to leave very soon and Tywin had no idea how Aerys would handle the separation again. 

"I am happy to see you safe, my king." the Lannister said, pushing his own concerns aside for the moment. 

"I want them dead, Lannister. I want them to burn." Aerys spat, holding Morgana ever closer to his chest. 

"They are all dead..." Morgana said drawing Aerys' attention onto herself, not that it was a particularly hard task. Aerys smiled a manic, mad kind of smile as Morgana told him what she had done. He was about to kiss her once more when he saw those horrible fucking black veins crawling up her neck. 

"No... NO! NO! MORGANA! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME! I'LL BURN THEM! I KILL THEM ALL IF YOU DO! PLEASE NO!" Morgana didn't hear the rest as the curse pulled her once more through time.