#‘every time a Targaryen is born the gods flip a coin: madness or greatness’

[bitter-post-millennial]

Don’t you dare cross out twink; tell it true.

Still genuinely do not get the anti-Green, anti-Black stuff and the arguments over who is actually the Bad Guy here. None of these characters are supposed to be saints. They can be bad people and/or do bad things and you can still love them anyway because they are not real. Why tf do you think Light Yagami is so popular despite being a narcissistic, sociopathic twink murderer??

[scarlet-star-witch]

yay... can you write one where you've heard all the nasty rumours about the Targaryens, especially how cruel they can be sometimes, but Aemond proves you wrong. He is sweet, kind, and compassionate towards you. You know he's not like that around other people, so you ask him why he acts different towards you.

Hope you like the request.

This took way too long for me write, but I hope this is what you were looking for!

Warnings: implied smut and a whole lotta fluff

WC: 3.2 K

~~

They say the Gods flip a coin when a Targaryen is born. Greatness or madness were the destinies that followed the otherworldly family. 

Closer to Gods than men, they would say. Quick to anger, that burned hotly, destroying those in its ruthless path.

That was all she knew of the Targaryen family. 

It was the only warning she had before she was shipped off to King’s Landing to marry the one-eyed prince. 

She knew nothing of her betrothed except for his reputation that gleamed nothing but anger and a fiercely cold nature. She didn’t want to listen to rumors, but she couldn’t help but feel apprehensive to meet the man of mystery that was Prince Aemond.

The night they first met, she had approached the table of royals, curtseying politely, her heart racing as she met the gaze of her betrothed for the first time. 

She smiled, hoping to start off on the right foot, but his expression never changed, beholding her as if bored, as if unmoved by the knowledge that she would soon be his wife. His disinterest seemed to confirm every fear she had. It left her shaken, the picture of a terrified woman at the altar who could barely meet the gaze of her new husband. 

The night of their wedding, she was terrified, practically trembling as he took her to bed. 

She had shut her eyes and prayed for the seconds to pass quickly. 

It had been awkward, stifling and uncomfortable, but it wasn’t awful. The pain was momentary and he didn’t take her like a mindless beast who only sought his own pleasure as she had been warned some men were known to act by her kind maids. 

Aemond only ever had gentle touches to give her. 

It was by no means the passionate love she had read about in books she hid from her mother, but she was at least grateful she bore no marks from a husband who only had anger to bestow upon her. 

Over the months together, they didn’t spare many words for each other. 

The Prince was polite and cordial, but their conversations never went any deeper than small talk that amounted to nothing important. 

She often found herself wondering if he even tolerated her, let alone liked her, but as the weeks passed and he stayed by her side, lingering in their chambers together, joining her for walks in the garden, did she begin to soften her opinion of him, no longer fearing his presence as she had in the beginning. 

Almost daily, she would spot him, his face impassive, almost hardened, but the moment he saw her his expression would lighten, a small smile growing as he approached her. 

He would always greet her politely and offer her his arm.

“Tell me about your home.” He asked her out of the blue one afternoon as they lounged under the shade of the Weirwood tree. 

She looked to her husband nervously, feeling exposed under his gaze that portrayed an undeniable curiosity. 

“What would you like to know?” 

“Anything you would like to tell me.” He answered with a smile that brought one to her own lips. “I will gladly take anything you are willing to give me.”

Her breath caught in her throat, surprised by his words, so brazen, so unlike the man she had thought him to be. 

Before she could speak again, Ser Criston approached the pair and she watched as Aemond’s easy expression shifted so suddenly, his face now drawn tightly into a scowl. 

“My Prince, your mother is expecting your presence in her solar.” Ser Criston reminded him.

Aemond barely spared a moment of attention to the Knight, his hand squeezing hers as if in apology for the interruption of their time together.

“She will have to wait, Ser Crsiton. I am with my wife.” 

She knew that was a moment she would not soon forget, for it was the first time she felt as though her husband cared for her, the first time she realized he didn’t loathe their arrangement. 

There were moments, too many to count now, when she couldn’t help but wonder if he longed to be closer as she would feel his gaze on her, seeking her out no matter where they were. 

At every festivity, in the midst of crowds and countless lords pushing their way to bestow well wishes onto the royal family, it never failed that she always found Aemond’s eye, his attention focused solely on her. 

Her favorite would be the moments of quiet connection in the solace of their chambers. Her eyes would wander from the book she read to land on him, barely catching a glimpse of his face before he would quickly look away from her, as if not wanting to get caught admiring his own wife. 

It always left her breathless in ways she couldn’t explain, in ways she couldn’t make sense of. 

Despite the slowly growing bond, she felt lonely in her new home without her family, without a great love to lean on. 

Music was her only escape from the isolation. She often found herself in the grand hall, hours before the festivities were to start, dodging the servants that readied the tables, just to hear the musicians practice. 

They always spotted her and, as the months dragged on, no longer looked at her in annoyance, but would smile politely and play, as if just for her, enjoying their one woman audience who seemed to hold onto every note as if it meant the world to her. 

They indulged her in the many questions she asked about their music and their instruments, letting her have her moment of reprieve. 

At every feast, as she sat by her husband’s side, her gaze would remain on the band, admiring their work others in the room steadfastly ignored

One night, as she took in the music with tranquility, a gentle hand lay over her own, startling her out of her daze. She looked over at her husband with wide eyes, confused yet surprised by the gesture. 

“Would you like to dance?” 

She froze for a moment, taken aback by his question, but finally nodded, too surprised to answer with words. 

He took her hand in his, his touch soft, as if she were made of glass, as he guided her to the floor with the other dancing couples. 

They faced each other and Aemond wasted no time in laying his hand on her waist, bringing her in closer to him. 

She felt nerves creep through her as they danced. She could feel his eye on her as they twirled, as he brought her back into his arms, as he held her close. 

Finally gaining the courage to meet his gaze, she found his eye held nothing but light, a look of contentment watching her carefully. 

A flutter unfurled in her chest, a feeling she had never felt before. The way he looked at her made her cheeks heat and she could’ve sworn she saw him smile, as if he knew what he was doing to her. 

She couldn’t help but wonder if his touch was supposed to make her feel so cared for, if he knew it was making her melt. 

A part of her desperately hoped he did. 

~~

Aemond had been ready to write her off completely, to resign himself to the fact that he was to marry a spoiled girl who would cower at the sight of him. 

He’d had enough of meeting Ladies who flinched or outright winced at the sight of him and his scar, that whispered they could never lay with, let alone marry, a man with such a deformity. 

But the moment he met her, as she met his gaze with little hesitation, as she smiled his way, a gleam of hope in her eyes, did he feel as though his entire world tilted on its axis. 

It wasn’t until her smile faltered, her eyes averting from his shyly that he realized he hadn’t returned her smile, had only stared back at her as if disinterested. 

He had cursed to himself, close to letting Aegon smack him for being so hopeless. 

He could plainly see her fear on the day of the wedding, had whispered apologies he didn’t think she heard as he took her to bed for the first time, had tried his best to assuage her nerves, yet he knew it was because of him, because of that first damned look that he ruined everything before it even began.

 He longed to reach out to her, to apologize for his abysmal first impression, but he found he couldn’t muster the words, or the courage. 

So he settled for admiring her from afar, entirely discontented by the distance but unsure of how to bridge it. 

He spent his days with her, his mind torturously blank, no words coming to him to at least try to begin a bond with her, his sweet wife that never looked at him as though he was a deformed monster as the other ladies in the Keep had. 

He had no idea how, or that he was even capable of such a connection, but he couldn’t help but feel lighter in her presence. Knowing such a sweet woman who never had a harsh word to say about anyone, especially him, left him longing to bestow every praise and sweet nothing upon her. 

He never considered himself to be swayed by such romantic ideals, but whenever he was face to face with his wife, he found himself wishing he had spent more time perusing through the books of poetry in the library rather than the history tomes. 

He wished he had the words to tell her how absolutely magical he found her, how her smile lit any room she was in, how he wished he could bathe in her warmth, how much he appreciated that she looked at him so differently than any other lady in the court had. 

He found himself seeking her out any time he was not with her. 

“Have you seen my wife?” He asked a member of the White Cloaks, becoming desperate after having no luck finding her in the gardens or with Helaena or his mother. 

“There is a feast tonight. Your Lady wife is known to spend time watching the musicians practice. My best guess would be to look for her there.”

Aemond’s brows furrowed at the answer. 

“The musicians?”

“Yes, my Prince. She seems quite fond of them.” 

His stomach twisted at the realization there was something his wife was so obviously delighted by that he had no idea of and he quickly made his way towards the great hall, spotting, not his wife, but a group of musicians assembling their instruments. 

“My Prince.” The lead conductor bowed to him politely when he noticed his presence. “I am glad to see you, we were just discussing your Lady wife and we would appreciate if you would speak to her about her presence here as we prac-”

“You will allow her to watch.” Aemond interrupted the man, looking at him sternly, as if daring the man to defy him. “You will indulge her with your practice. You will answer any question she poses and if she deems it a want, you will let her play your damn instruments.”

After his warning, he began to watch his wife, smiling to himself as he noticed the look of delight in her gaze as she watched the musicians perform. 

It took weeks to build the courage, but one night as the band played and she watched with eagerness, he asked her to dance for the first time since their wedding. 

That night, he had never felt so nervous as he danced with her, but he felt closer to her than ever before. 

That night, she seemed to feel it too as she looked at him with a desire he had never seen from her before as they retreated to their chambers for the night. 

That night, he made love to her. He touched her so softly, reveling in her beautiful moans and cries of his name. He felt as though he was a God as she felt her touch on him, as he felt the sting of her nails in his back as he thrusted into her with a desperation so unknown to him. 

It was the first time they felt so connected to each other. 

As they lay with each other, their hearts slowing their rhythm from their peaks, he held her in his arms, not yet ready to lose the feel of her touch just yet. 

“Tell me about the music.” He asked softly. 

She laughed softly, the sound like heavenly bells to his ears. The knowledge that he had even noticed her infatuation with music was enough to have butterflies unleashed within her. 

“My mother used to play the harp. Apparently, when I was a babe, the sound of her harp was the only thing that could calm me down, the only thing that would stop my crying. She would always make up songs to sing me to sleep.” She explained wistfully and he listened to every word. 

“Sometimes I feel as though my mind gets too loud. There are too many thoughts that are entirely unhelpful and… I don’t know, it sounds silly, but I think music is the only thing that quiets it, that brings me back down to myself when those thoughts take over.”

“It’s not silly.” He told her earnestly. “I think it’s beautiful to admire something so passionately.” 

“I wish I could learn to play myself, but I don’t think I have the patience for it.”

Aemond scoffed, the sound holding nothing but disbelief. 

“My sweet wife, you are the most patient person I have ever met in my life. If you can conquer me, you can conquer anything.”

“Have I conquered you?” She asked, looking up at him with a playful challenge, to which he smiled. 

“You certainly have.”

She smiled and leaned in closer to his touch, finally feeling as though they were on the same wavelength. 

By the next morning, Aemond was gone before she woke. 

Her maids helped her get dressed for the morning and they couldn’t help but notice the lovesick smile that adorned her lips. 

“You seem quite happy this morning, my Lady.”

She blushed and bowed her head bashfully. 

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with the Prince, would it?” Her maid teased, the group of them laughing as their Lady swatted their hands playfully. 

“I have never seen Prince Aemond so smitten before.” One of the younger maids commented. “You seem to have him under a spell, my Lady. I don’t think I had ever seen him smile until you came around.”

“Oh yes, he was always so surly. I was terrified to even pass him in the halls.” They continued as if she were no longer there, not noticing the surprise on her face as they spoke of her husband. “He seems like a different person. He is nothing but a lovesick fool now.” 

She felt as though her heart would burst as she listened to their words. 

Only a few minutes later, as she was dressed, did her husband return. His smile faltered at the sight of her maids and he seemed to retreat into himself, his cool demeanor shifting into one of discomfort, his body rigid, his nod of acknowledgement stiff. 

Her maids giggled to themselves and bid her goodbye before leaving. 

Only then did Aemond relax once again, his expression now nothing but one of love as he approached her. 

“I have something for you.”

She raised a brow in question as he took a seat next to her. 

He then handed her a stack of papers. She didn’t recognize what they were at first, her eyes flitting over the markings over the page, before it suddenly dawned on her. 

It was sheet music. 

“You said you wished to learn.” 

Her lips parted, but no words came. She was stunned to silence, his gesture, so thoughtful, had her floored. 

“This is… I don’t know what to say.” She spoke quietly. She looked to her husband and felt so unprepared for the love she would feel for him, in disbelief that the man she had been terrified to marry could make her feel this way.

“What is it?” Aemond asked worriedly, watching as her expression became one of thoughtful contemplation, suddenly fearing he had overstepped in some way. 

“Why me?” 

The question caught him off guard and his frown deepened, his heart beginning to race as doubt crept through him.

“What do you mean?”

“You do not act this way with anyone else. The maids were practically terrified of you before. You never smile with anyone but me. I don’t understand what is so special about me to have a place in your heart.” 

The insecurities came spilling out before she could stop them, leaving her feeling more exposed than she intended and suddenly wishing the ground would swallow her whole. 

Aemond’s face shifted, his eye looking at her with a mix of disbelief and sadness. He leaned in close to her, his hand reaching out to cradle her jaw. 

“You cannot truly mean that.” He whispered, as if his words had physically hurt him. “Do you really not see how easily you have carved yourself into my heart?”

She didn’t have an answer and merely looked stunned by his words. 

He let out a long breath and hesitated, his teeth worrying his bottom lip for a moment before his hand reached out and slowly took his eyepatch off. 

She felt as though her breath was stolen from her as she saw the sparkling sapphire in place of his eye. 

He watched her carefully and as he saw only awe in her gaze, did he feel as though he could melt into nothing. 

He smiled and took her hand, guiding her to the scarred side of his face, laying her palm against his skin. 

“I was ridiculed my entire life, looked at as if I were a monster because of what was taken from me the night I claimed Vhagar.” He told her, almost shuddering under her touch as her thumb grazed the edge of his scar. 

“You have never once looked at me as though I was less, or that my scar made me someone unlovable.” 

Her gaze met his and she was floored by the genuine reverence with which he looked at her. 

“That night, I was kicking myself for not returning your smile, but I…” He paused, letting out a small, bashful laugh. “I was too in awe of you to do anything but stare like a fool.” 

“You don’t understand what is so special about yourself?” He repeated, a tone of derision in his voice as if it disgusted him to even speak the words aloud. “Darling, you had me bewitched from the very first moment I saw you.”

She let out a laugh, her eyes beginning to brim with tears, his words wrapping around her like the warm embrace of a lover. 

He leaned in, his nose brushing against hers.

“I am truly sorry I made you feel as though there was any doubt. I’ll have to try harder to make you realize you are the most special being in this entire castle.”

Her laugh was cut off as he crashed his lips to hers, kissing her with the ferocity of a dragon in love. 

[weird-addiction]

If you're still writing for hotd, could you do a aemond x twin brother reader (platonic ofc). When aemond loses his eye, his brother takes his own eye on the opposite side as a form of solidarity. They have a close relationship and reader claims cannibal as aemond claims vhagar. I know it's a lot but I thought it was a good idea. Hope you have a great day

~snake anon 🐍

One in the Same

Pairing: Platonic!Aemond Targaryen x Male!Twin!Targaryen!Reader

Genre: Neutral

Warnings: Gore, taking out an eye, typical violence, threatening someone

Being the twin to a prince was never meant to be easy, well, others at the bottom would say different. That is because they have never been in his position before. Y/n was the fourth child of Alicent and Viserys, the younger twin to Aemond Targaryen. 

They said that the gods flip a coin to determine a Targaryen’s fate when they are born, one side was greatness, the other was madness. If this was indeed true, Y/n’s side of the coin would be sadness. There was not a day from the day he was born that he did felt like a void was inside of his heart, and the only way to fill it was to be close to his twin at all times. 

Since childhood, Y/n clung to Aemond’s side no matter what they were doing. Training, eating, in the library reading, the one thing they did not do was sleep in the same bed. Alicent tried everything to keep Y/n a part, as she was worried that in the future that their closeness would prevent them from finding wives, however Y/n still refused to let his brother go. 

Aemond was dragonless, so was Y/n, they were the only ones without dragons and boy were they bitter for it. 

See, Y/n was what you called the ‘the silent but deadly’ type of person. He told everything, every feeling, every emotion to his twin and no one else. And for this, he had no idea how to express himself to others freely. 

So, he did it through violent means. 

“Behold! The Pink Dread!” Aegon, Jace and Luke all said in a mocking way as the pig stood before them. 

Aemond kept his emotions inside, he would not show them that this got to him. His twin however, did not have the same reaction. 

Y/n did not hesitate as he grabbed Aegon by the collar, his fist raised as he was about to punch him. Aegon was surprised to say the least, as he flinched back from his brother’s raised hand. Jace and Luke were also shocked to see this, as Aegon was the eldest among them so no one went against him. Seeing Aegon’s own younger brother do that to him was not something they expected. 

“Tell me why I shouldn’t make you unable to see Sunfyre for a week, brother.” Y/n spat, his hand did not loosen its grip. 

“I-I’ll tell mother!” Aegon said out as a last resort. 

“Mother? Mother would thank me for knocking some sense into you.” Y/n’s eyes narrowed, the dragon burned within him brightly. 

Aegon managed to shake himself free, himself and their nephews left quickly so as to not anger him anymore. Y/n turned back to Aemond, wanting to comfort him. But, Aemond was already down the pit to see for dragons. Y/n notified a guard and Aemond was taken out before he became ashes. 

“What are you doing?! Are you trying to get killed?” Y/n looked him over for injuries. 

“I’m fine.” Aemond replied quickly, hiding his disdain for dragging him out. 

They were escorted back to their mother who was watching over Helaena with her bugs. 

“Do I have to have you both confined to your chambers-”

“They gave him a pig!” Y/n yelled, cutting Alicent off. 

Her attention went to the younger, then back to the elder to confirm if this was true. Aemond’s face said everything. 

“You both will have a dragon. One day. I promise.” Alicent brought both of her sons into a hug before leaving to talk to her husband and her eldest son for pulling such a trick on his own brothers. 

The dragon did not come to them, even them trying to claim other older dragons did not work. Y/n suggested they go to Dragonstone to take a shot with the dragons there, Alicent allowed after much persuasion. 

Once they arrived on Dragonstone, they went directly to where the dragons were kept. The dragon keepers standing there waiting for them. 

By the end of the day, Y/n had managed to fly around with a dragon so large that the shadow covered all of Dragonstone. Even the keepers were surprised, and when he landed, everyone was stunned. 

Y/n Targaryen had claimed the legendary beast that is Cannibal. 

Y/n climbed down from the dragon’s back effortlessly as he pats its side, running to hug his twin and ask the older about his own dragon. Aemond was impressed by his abilities, but rather sad as he himself was unsuccessful as claiming a dragon. 

“It’s ok! You’ll have one! You will have a dragon with wars and conquests under its belt! I promise Aemond!” Y/n exclaimed as he hugged his brother tight. 

Well, that would come true only a year later as came the death of Laena Velayron. By the end of the funeral, Aemond had run off by himself as he heard the sad roar of a dragon in the distance. 

On the other hand, Y/n was freaking out as he did not see his twin anywhere near him. He wanted to go find him but the guard said he needed to go to bed, but how could he sleep without knowing that Aemond was somewhere else? How could he sleep without knowing if Aemond was safe?

Well, he did not have to wait for long, the guards soon came and escorted him down telling him something had happened to his brother. This made Y/n practically run down the stairs to such a gorey sight before him, his twin flame, his brother who he loved so much was sitting in a chair getting stitches across his eye. Running to Aemond’s side, leeching to the elder’s side as he looked him over for other possible injuries. 

“How did this- what happened?” He quietly asked. Aemond responded with one eye movement, gaze shifting over to their nephews. 

“Which one?” Y/n’s tone now held venom, wanting vengeance and revenge to the one that did this to his twin. 

“The one that I broke the nose of.” His response made Y/n realize, of course, it was not hard to see who he was talking about after all. 

“Lucerys. Of course. Those..bastards.” Y/n truly hated saying that word, he wanted to be close to his nephews, but what they just pulled was not going to be forgotten and forgiven so easily. 

Alicent came over to the twins, giving them concerning glances. Pushing them behind her as she watched Rhaenyra come into the room. The twins held each other’s hands as they waited for what would happen to them. 

“My son has lost an eye!” Alicent exclaimed, gesturing to Aemond who sat in the chair. 

“It was my sons who were attacked, and forced to defend themselves.” Rhaenyra retorted back. “The legitimacy of my son’s birth were put loudly to question.” 

Y/n and Aemond both looked at each other and smirked, they couldn’t help it, everyone who had eyes could see it of course. 

“What did you actually do?” Y/n asked under his breath. 

“Claimed Vhagar. They say I stole her.” Aemond leaned into his forehead against Y/n’s.

“That’s stupid. You can’t steal a dragon, the dragon chooses its rider. Otherwise, I would not be alive talking. Cannibal would have eaten me.” Both of them then tuned out the rest of the conversation. Well, until their mother decided to grab the dagger sitting at their father’s belt and attack their half-sister with it. 

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?! It’s trampled under your pretty foot again!” Alicent yelled as her wrist was caught in Rhaenyra’s grip. 

“Exhausting wasn’t it? Hiding under a cloak of your own righteousness. Now they see you as you are..” Rhaenyra said back, struggling with holding the queen back. 

Alicent yelled as she forced her hand with the dagger down, the sound of fabric slicing and dagger went through the room. Rhaenyra staggered backwards, Corlys was behind her and managed to hold her before she was going to fall more. 

Aemond stood up with the help of Y/n, walking over to their mother slowly. 

Seeing that Alicent had cut Rhaenyra, Y/n wanted this to end. Grabbing the dagger from the floor before anyone could notice, and what he did next made everyone gasp in shock.

Sliding the dagger across his right eye, with force, the same thing that Luke did to his brother. The blade dropped to the ground again, this time, with way more blood than the last. Clutching his eye in pain, Y/n turned to look at both parties, blood dripping from his socket.

“Now, we are all even. I took my eye, there is no need for Luke’s.” Y/n spoke sternly.

Alicent looked in horror as another son of hers had lost an eye, now it was two eyes instead of one; and it was all from two of her own children and none from Rhaenyra. 

“Your mistake has caused my other son to take his own eye. Is this what you wanted? More of my children mutilating themselves for your sake?!” Alicent yelled, and only silence followed. 

Y/n was sent to the maester immediately as the eye also needed to be taken out. Unlike his twin however, he screamed through the entire process and held onto Aemond’s hand for dear life. Soon, the same stitches covered the scar over his eye, the opposite of Aemond’s. 

For the years to come, the people of Westeros knew the twins as the single-eyed princes. However, no one tried to get close to them. Or rather, it was the twins themselves who refused. They stayed true to each other rather than to marry some stranger they did not know. 

Aemond had a sapphire in place of his missing eye, while Y/n had a ruby in place of his. 

Two spirits stone cold but the sparks of two stones together burned brightly in between them. 

Two of the biggest dragons in the world by their side. 

No one will ever cross them ever again. 

[inkandarsenic]

Snippet from a fic I’m toying with. Trying to figure out if I should actually write it.

Tyrion watched her — this daughter of the Mad King, this Queen of the North, this beloved of the Young Wolf — watched her as she watched dragon fire burn Walder Frey and his castle to the ground, and for a single, horrifying moment, he saw Aerys Targaryen in her place. Cersei’s voice rang in his mind. Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin. And the world holds its breath to see how it lands: madness or greatness. With the Twins burning around them, with Alysanne Stark’s voice saying “Burn them all,” Tyrion couldn’t help but wonder if trying to kill Robb Stark would be the last mistake his father ever made.

[firebloodanddragons]

The Midnight Relief - Part 3 (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) NSFW

Summary: A knight of the King's Guard comes look for you in the middle of the night. Aemond is back from Storm's End and he requests your presence but nothing has prepared you for what you will find in his rooms.

Tags: SMUT, Porn with Plot (sort of), Vaginal Sex, Soft Aemond, Bottom Aemond, Breeding kink, Targcest (Reader is Daemon Targaryen’s bastard), Angst, Insecurity and Vulnerability, Mention of Underage Prostitution, Death, violence and murder.

Author’s Notes: I hoped you’ll enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. As I worked on this chapter, I wondered many times what would make Reader stand by Aemond after learning about Lucerys's death. So I developed her backstory and made it somewhat similar to Aemond's life. I wanted them relate to each other and to bond over death instead of letting it create a gap between them. I was also eager to write a Reader who was different from the goody-two-shoes pure girls we usually pair with characters like Aemond and let's not forget whose daughter she is. You can't be Daemon's daughter and be 100% angelic. Anyway, I can't wait to read your reaction and thank you again for your positive response. Happy New Year. Cee

(PART 1) (PART 2)

“Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods toss a coin in the air and the world holds its breath. Which side will it be, greatness or madness? It is a saying born from the mouth of the Targaryen lords that spread to the ears of the people back when Maegor The Cruel was still alive. People used to say that the second son of Aegon the Conqueror was the polar opposite of his half-brother, Aenys I. While Aenys was peaceful, loving and artistic, a weedy and fragile man as thin as a twig, Maegor was quarrelsome, heartless and brutal, a tall and strong man as large as a bull. Two completely different men yet two brothers born from the same father. Two sides of the same coin.”

You didn’t know how your mother could possibly know so much about the Targaryen dynasty or why she was so fascinated by their family history.             For years, you had thought her interest for the house of the dragon was the obvious consequence of the heartbreak Daemon Targaryen had left her with, that unconsciously (or not) it had been her desperate way to keep her heart close to the Rogue Prince. But as you grew up you began to believe the opposite. It was her obsession for the Targaryens that had drawn her to Daemon for the dragonriders represented everything she had desired in life: glory, power and especially freedom.          

Her sombre face – that only brightened when she would hear the name Targaryen - came back to you as you observed each side of the gold coin flipping between your fingers. The crowned head of late King Viserys The Peaceful shone in the moonlight while the three-headed dragon looked dull, certainly because it was the side that your mother had kissed for years back when the coin used to be hers.       Even though you were no real Targaryen and merely a bastard of the Prince of the City, you wondered if she had tossed the coin at your birth and if she had, which side it had landed on.

           The door to your dorm slammed open, waking up all the serving girls sleeping in their beds with a start. The crash made you jump with surprise and you quickly hid the gold coin under your pillow, fearing someone might steal it if they knew of its existence.     A young and bearded knight of the King’s Guard entered the room. Silently, he had a look around, scanning all the women’s faces one after the other with unknown purpose. When his blue eyes landed on you and noticed your silver hair, he finally declared in a blunt tone of voice. “You! Prince Aemond requests your presence, immediately.” Nothing more, nothing less.     It was the first time Aemond had sent a white cloak to find you. Usually, he would entrust an upright and meek servant he could easily intimidate with the task, menacing them to be discreet and sneaky if they wanted to keep their toil or their tongue. ‘Prince Aemond wishes for your service in his rooms at nightfall’ was the regular message since Aemond was determined to keep his nocturnal activities with you a secret and his reputation for decency intact. Something wasn’t right. Every girl stared at you as you got up, put on your red dress over your night gown and left the dorm with the guard in silence. Surely, they were wondering questions similar to yours considering their whispers and glances you chose to ignore but couldn’t help but despise. You blamed yourself for caring so much.     You followed the knight down the stairs and he led you to Aemond’s door without a single word. You could see the tension eating at him. His jaw was clenched and there was a certain anxiety behind his harsh blue eyes. What the hell was going on?             Arryk – that was the knight’s name (or was it Erryk?) – knocked and without opening, announced. “My prince, the serving girl is here.” He got no answer but he still gestured you to enter almost as if he was afraid to grab the handle himself.             You furrowed your brow but you did as he said anyway, not because he had asked you to but because you wanted to know the reason behind the knight’s odd stiffness and Aemond’s reckless summoning.     

The prince’s rooms were plunged into the darkness and cold. There was no flame burning in the fireplace that was as clean and empty as when Aemond had left for Storm’s End to obtain Borros Baratheon’s support and the hand of one of his daughters three days ago - a decision made by his family that had hurt you despite Aemond’s assurance that you would never leave his side.          

“My prince?” You said, searching for him in the dim moonlight and in the obscurity but he was nowhere to be found. “It is I … Y/N.” You got no answer, just a terrifying gloomy silence that made you anxious and look around you for comfort.         “Aemond?” You called his name, now too worried and fearful to care about etiquette.

Your informality managed to draw Aemond out of the shadow and he abruptly wrapped his arms around you as he slammed his hard chest against your back. Startled by his stealthy embrace, you immediately gasped and almost yelped, but as soon as you recognized your paramour’s strength and his perfume - which was a mix of leather and cologne drown in dragon musk - your fear immediately vanished and your body leant under his touch. “You scared me.” You chuckled; you heart still pounding in your chest but glad to finally be in his arms. You had missed him dearly. “You know, fear has never been arousing.” You joked as you put your hands over his to make him tighten his embrace around you.       Aemond did not reply. Instead, he hugged you harder and almost with desperate need and he nestled his head in your neck to breathe hard. His behaviour sucked the little playfulness warming your heart out of your chest and the impression that something was wrong reappeared straight away. You slowly turned around to look at Aemond with worry.   You could barely see his face in the darkness but the little you saw was enough to sadden you. His silver hair was wavy as if rain had poured over him and his purple look – that was avoiding eye contact - was swollen and reddened. Had he been crying? “Oh my sweet prince.” You cupped his cheek – he was freezing against your palm- and caressed it until he suddenly grabbed your hand to kiss your knuckles desperately. He was glad you were here. He needed you.   “My midnight relief.” He whispered, almost chocking on his words.        

Concerned for Aemond’s welfare, you hastened to light a fire and a few candles and you prepared a hot bath for him as fast as you could. You thought he would complain about your slowness but the look that he gave you as you did all those things to comfort him was not his usual glare of impatience. Standing in silence in the middle of the room, his head down and his face livid, he genuinely seemed confused.                       When the water was finally hot and steaming, you gently took his hands in yours and escorted him towards the tub. There, you removed his humid clothes one by one, his boots first, then his leather tunic and trousers and finally his undergarments. He let you do without any complain or any reaction, almost like a doll a little girl could dress and undress at will. But when you reached his eyepatch to unstrap it, he winced and grabbed your hand as swiftly as a snake, his sad young face wrinkled by fear and pain. You surrendered to his refusal but only for a brief moment.   “It’s alright.” You whispered as you stroke his cheek to reassure him. He eventually leant in your palm like a fearful cat and you used his moment of docility to remove his eyepatch but as soon as the piece of leather loosened around his head, his purple eye tightly shut and he grimaced again. “What is it my prince? What happened to you?” You asked and he opened his eye again.         No word came out of his mouth but the fear lingering in his purple iris sent shivers down your spine. What could terrorize a man as fearless as Aemond Targaryen? “Get in the bath. It will make you feel better … or at least warmer. You’re freezing.”

Again, he remained silent and gave you no sign of approval or disapproval. Instead, he just let you settle him down in the bath. Catatonic, he didn’t react when his body entered the hot water as if its comforting warmth had no effect on him. Knowing him, you were certain he was lost in the memory of whatever had happened to him, remembering each detail on a loop. He was an obsessional man after all.           You knelt quietly by the tub and plunged a clean clothe into the water to carefully clean and warm the young prince, starting with his shoulders and the top of his back that were still cold as ice. Unsurprisingly, he barely shivered when you rubbed his skin. So, you untied his long hair hoping some water on his head would bring him back to reality, to you.   His silver mane was very tangled and smelt like rain and wet dragon. Therefore, you thought it would be a good idea to grab a comb and a soap. Besides, Aemond enjoyed when you took care of his hair. But the second you tried to stand up, the prince held you back by the hand, his eye begging you to stay. You nodded and sat back on the floor beside him.     It took him a while before he finally uttered his first sentence. “Am I a monster?”           Your eyes widened at the question and you exclaimed, “What? No, of course not.” But you could tell that your words were not enough to convince Aemond. “Have the Four Storms insulted you, my prince?” If they had, they would hear from you when they visit the keep. Stupid cunts! “Is that why so you feel so down right now? Should I tell the Dowager Queen of your mistreatment in Storm’s End? I –”     “Starlight” Aemond sighed, cutting you off almost to calm you down but specially to tell you you were wrong. And for a second, you expected him to talk to you, to confess the truth. But it didn’t come. “Just join me in the bath. Relieve me.” He wanted to sound commanding but his tone was begging.

You nodded and stood up to take off your clothes as Aemond watched. Normally, he would have gazed at you with boiling lust, his hands itching to rip your dress off, his purple eye burning with a dark impatience but not tonight. Tonight, the One-Eyed Prince was nothing but distress. You entered the bath in silence and cautiously sat down on Aemond, straddling his lap. The warm water made you tremble with relief as the temperature soothed your body that was so sore and tensed after three tiresome and intense days working and worrying for your Prince. But your newly-found comfort was of no importance. The only thing that matter was Aemond, as always. Gently, you brought your hands to his muscular chest and started massaging him from his pectorals down to his abs, rubbing circles on his smooth skin, thinking that a little tender devotion could pull Aemond out of his dark thoughts. You were wrong.     He didn’t shiver or reacted to your strokes. Clinging to the edge of the tub, he didn’t even look at - or perhaps notice, which was worse - your hands going down towards his cock until he felt your fingers approaching his silver hairs crowning his sex. Then, he grabbed your wrists to forbid you to slide any further and kept them in a solid grip.         “Not now… Sing a song for me first.”           His unexpected demand confused you for a moment but you asked anyway. “Which song would you like to hear, my prince?”       “Have I ever answered this question before?”       No, he always let you decide, not because he had no idea of the song that he wished to listen to but because you had a real knack for finding the lyrics that resonated with him.         Aemond hated merry melodies, finding them silly and only made to be sung by jesters and drunken bards in taverns. What he loved were tragic lyrics, stories of doomed love and sorrow that he would ask you to sing at night sitting by the fireplace as if they were lullabies. And each time, he would listen to you carefully like a child and emotionlessly like a knight, secretly feeling each line deep in his heart that wasn’t as dark as everyone thought.                      

Aemond let go of your wrists and watched your beautiful face as you began to sing for him, your hands now in his hair to tenderly – if not motherly- run your fingers through the tangled strands and soothe his agitated mind.         “Oh, I am waiting for my boy, noble sailor. His hair is chestnut brown     His voice sweet as a blanket He'd promised me he'd come back to me a saviour           What is this thing that drowns?       Is it my son’s casket?”           Prince Aemond always thought you had the loveliest voice, enchanting as a mermaid and sweet as a mother. He could listen to it for hours. And yet tonight it sounded like the sharpest dagger, a blade made of Valyrian steel clinking unpleasantly in his ears and begging for an eye. It was also the teeth of a roaring dragon, tearing flesh apart and crushing bones, and the screams of a frightened boy who had never seen death before.       “Enough!” He vociferated, refusing to handle the pain you unconsciously caused him any longer.         Your mouth shut and your hands froze in his hair.     Aemond was looking away, unable make visual contact, his jaw as tightened as his fists. Rage was eating him from within but not only.       You thought about leaving him, believing you were useless, but the fact the prince had not dismissed you somehow made you stay. Perhaps, despite your inability to distract him and to relieve him tonight, he wanted you to remain by his side. Perhaps even the worst company was better than solitude.

“Be honest with me” He suddenly said.       “You know I’m always honest with you, my prince.”         “A few days ago, when you told me you feared I would abandon you after my betrothal, do you remember what I said?”             You knew the answer. “That for you own sanity you can’t let me go.” But the mention of this moment made you rather uneasy and perplexed. Why was Aemond talking about this now? Did he change his mind? Did he come to the conclusion that kicking you out of his life was the right thing to do? Was this the reason why you couldn’t comfort him tonight, why he didn’t want you?     You sensed fear growing inside of you, the questions echoing in your head like a hubbub. “Hmm… That is not what I should have said.” Your entire body shivered at his words and you instinctively hold on to his hair as one would hold on for dear life. Desperately. And you found yourself pathetic for reacting that way. You shouldn’t be surprised if Aemond had indeed come back to his dutiful senses, that he had decided to abandon you for his betrothed, a lady that certainly was way more beautiful than you and undoubtedly more educated. It was a reasonable choice, the choice any lord and or prince would make. And yet… “I should have said, for my own sanity don’t let me go.”     The terror knotting your stomach slightly loosened the same way your fingers clung at his silver hair unclenched and then you realized Aemond had been holding you by the waist all along, his short nails dug in your soft flesh. Whether it was to comfort you or out of a fear similar to yours you didn’t know.         “How can you believe I would ever let you go, my prince?”         “Because soon perhaps even in the morrow you and everyone else in this damn kingdom will call me a monster. You will reject me just like my own family have been rejecting me for years, just like they rejected me earlier when they learnt…” He brutally stopped, unable to continue his sentence.         “Have I not stood by you all these years, my prince?” You asked as you stroke his wet hair tenderly.               “You have.” He had a faint but grateful smile that barely could be seen on his heart-shaped lips.         “So why would I leave you now?”

Aemond found the courage to look at you deep in your eyes. He could tell you were waiting for an answer, that you were eager to know what had happened to him, what was the cause of his unusual behaviour. He was no fool. He was just scared. Behind his mask of unbreakable strength and austerity, he was just scared like a little boy, like the child he used to be when he had no dragon and no one as supporting and devoted as you by his side. He was scared to be abandoned, to be cast away once more. He was scared of the curse his kind were said to carry. He was scared but he spoke anyway.           “Because I am a murderer… I killed Luke.” He saw your face change, the worry in your features turning into incomprehension, the way you stared at him and almost pulled yourself out of his arms that refused to let you go as you removed your hands from his hair. He saw all that and he couldn’t see more.         “What? Why?” You asked in shock.   “Because I wanted to.” He confessed the same way he had confessed to his mother and grandsire earlier, with a coldness that concealed his shame.             “Aemond...”   “It’s the truth!” He growled. “I wanted the bastard dead. I’ve always wished him dead, since the day he took my eye … No, since the day he humiliated me by offering me that fucking pig. In my mind, he always deserved to die and only the Gods know how many times I’ve dreamt to gauge his eyeballs and present them to his whore mother on a silver platter. I wanted Luke dead. And now he is.” He could feel your eyes on him but he couldn’t even glance at you, too terrified to face your disappointment but he still found the strength to admit something he had kept hidden from his family because he still believed that despite your probable disgust right now, you would never mock him. “But I didn’t mean to kill him. I … I tried to stop Vhagar, I did. But she …” The images of his nephew and his dragon being torn to pieces stopped him from talking again and he sighed before eventually pulling your body closer to him to nestle his head in your chest and beg you, his purple eye glistening with repressed tears. “You must believe me. Please believe me. Stand by me.”   As a response, your fingers found their way back to Aemond’s hair and your caressed it to comfort him as you kissed the top of his head. He wrapped his arms around you with all the strength and despair he had and kissed your breasts with a heart-breaking gratefulness. You were still here and that’s all he wanted. But nothing had prepared him for your revelation.

“I killed my mother.” You declared, your voice barely louder than a whisper.     This was your darkest secret, the atrocity you had never told anyone but yourself when at night you would remember the macabre scene. And tonight, you were telling it to the man you held against your breasts, not to unburden you but to tell him you understood him. “What I said to you, that she died of syphilis holding my hand … that’s not what really happened.”   Aemond glanced up at you and slowly unclasped his embrace around you to let you tell your story, curious to know what it was and why it happened. There was no judgment in his eye because somehow, he could already relate.     “When I was twelve, my mother got so sick she was forced to be confined to bed. So, it fell upon me to provide for her. I turned to Madam Chataya and she hired me to take my mother’s place in the pleasure house. I was the only dragonseed whore in the Street of Silk, a blessing for the owner of the brothel but a curse for me. Men who dreamt to know how it felt to ‘fuck the blood of the dragon’ paid huge amounts of coins for a moment with me while others who hated the crown came to fuck me hard thinking it would somehow make the royals pay for their misery. And I endured this treatment every day because it was the only way to help my mother. But I got no thank you for it. All I had was more stories about Daemon Targaryen.” A tear rolled down your cheek and you chuckled to let Aemond believe you were fine. But your smile was too miserable and bitter to fool him. The prince thought about catching your tear but afraid it would stop you in your story he did not.   “One day, her sickness worsened and she got a terrible fever that made her hallucinate. For a week she thought my sire was by her side and she couldn’t stop calling his name over and over again while I was downstairs getting fucked by all the sons of bitches of King’s Landing. ‘Daemon, you’re here. Thank the gods!’” The rage and hatred you had never managed to erase made your jaw shake and your eyes darken. “It drove me mad. So, one night as she was screaming his name again, I wrapped my hands around her neck… I tried to resist. Trust me I did but I hated her so much and I hated Daemon and I hated all the men who paid to fuck me. I was just a child, seven hells!” You sobbed loudly and sensed Aemond’s fingers lightly brush the skin of your back. “She struggled, trying to gasp for air, begging me to stop but even as she did, she still yelled ‘Daemon, Daemon!’. I was crying, begging her to stop saying his name. I just wanted her notice me, to care about me, to just be my mother. She grabbed my hands to free herself from my grip but she was too weak to push me away. I felt her dying in my hands and when her body became still and she was finally silent… I think I felt more relieved than sad. I killed my own mother, Aemond. So yes, I’ll stand by you. Because people like you and me, we’re not monsters, we’re just survivors that life broke too many times.”

A new tear fell from your eyes and this time Aemond couldn’t resist the urge to wipe it from your face with his thumb. His sympathy and tenderness warmed your heart and you were grateful for them. It was possibly the first time in your entire life someone gave you pure and unconditional affection. And it felt nice.      

“Thank you.” You whispered with a faint smile that Aemond immediately caught with his lips. You gasped in his mouth but eventually welcomed his kiss with the same softness he gave you. Your fingers woven in his silver locks, his roaming up and down your back, your mouths were brushing each other, enjoying the delicacy that was so needed after such emotional confessions when your bodies began to yearn more for one another.   Your chests met harder, drawing a sharp breath out of both your parted lips and you used this moment to give the prince a passionate kiss. You pulled at his bottom lip and he moaned gutturally before he urged to smooch you, encouraged by your sudden eagerness, his hand holding the back of your neck firmly.         You could feel his cock swelling between your thighs, close to your hole that would soon be aching to be filled. You tried to ignore the growing hardness and the knot that was tightening your lower belly more and more which each second passing. You refused to seem sexually depraved to the prince’s eyes, but as soon as Aemond pressed your core to his shaft you grunted lustfully and began to move against him.         “I need you.” The words escaped your lips as you clung to his hair.           “As I need you.”         Your mouths couldn’t be separated. It was as if you needed the proximity and the mix of both your breaths to be and feel alive before the dreadful curse looming over you would make moments of intimacy like this one too rare.            

Aemond grabbed his length now erected and ready for you and guided it towards your begging entrance waiting for him under the water. Remembering what you had taught him before leaving for Storm’s End, he teased your clit with his tip and watched you squirm in his arms with an amused smirk on his lips before entering you almost smoothly. You wriggled a bit as he slid inside you to take him deeper.                 “Always such a tight warm hole for me.” Aemond purred as he took hold of your hips to sheathe his long shaft to the hilt. Your wet walls fit so well around him, taking every inch of his length perfectly. “Do you like it?” You asked then winced a bit when Aemond pulled out and pushed back inside of you with strength.           Your grimace brutally calmed the prince’s burning ardour and he froze. “Did I hurt you?” He worried with an apologetic tone when he understood he should have perhaps given you more time to adjust to his girthy presence before moving.   His reaction moved you. Never a man had shown any concern for you. You had always been treated like a toy, a doll all men with enough gold or power – Aemond included - could use or abuse to their will.         The prince’s sudden softness brought a single tear to your eye and you blinked to prevent it from rolling down your cheek.   “No.” You whispered and your face beamed with gratefulness. You kissed Aemond again to reassure him and slowly adjusted yourself to his cock by undulating your hips, a necessity knowing Aemond’s tendency to be hard, rough and extremely passionate.           But then he said something that caught you off guard.       “Keep doing that.”     It took you a solid second to understand what he meant and wanted from you and when you finally did, you stared at him confused. Did he want you on top? A part of you couldn’t believe this to be true. And he noticed.           “Ride me.” He ordered, making his wish perfectly clear this time.           “You sure? You never allowed me on top before, my prince.”       “I’m your dragon, aren’t I? Dragons are meant to be ridden. So, do it.” His command sounded so sensual to your ears you suddenly clenched around him, feeling an arousal you had never felt before. Aemond hissed as he slammed his head back against the edge of the tub and he put his hand on your hips to silently tell you to move.         You took a comfortable position on top of him, hands on his shoulders, your breasts close to his face, and slowly you lifted yourself up only to sink back on his hard cock as soon as his tip threatened to leave your hole. Aemond grunted as you welcomed him back inside inch by inch and he breathed hard. He seemed to enjoy it so much. So you did it again and again and again until he began to moan so desperately you decided to accelerate your pace. You took a hold of the edge of the tub right above the prince’s silver head and started to bounce on top of him, flooding the stone floor more and more each time your entrance eagerly met his balls.           “Seven heavens, you feel so good.” Aemond managed to compliment between two growls and you beamed.             “No, you feel so good, my dragon.”             The position was indeed amazing, empowering even. The proximity, the intimacy, the sensation to be in charge and to have Aemond, a prince, all to yourself. You could get used to this. “Indeed, it seems you’re enjoying me quite a lot.” Aemond hissed under your frantic rhythm. You were so wet around him and he was sure that wasn’t the water.                         You nodded and chuckled as you kept your pace steady but passionate. But soon, your desires began to scream loudly inside of you, encouraging you to take more, more pleasure, more power, more of Aemond. You let them guide you and your movements turned into a furious riding, similar to a wild rodeo except that the beast you were straddling was no wild animal but a very docile dragon staring at you with a burning but calm adoration through his lidded eye, his hands worshipping your body but occasionally clawing at your skin.       “Fuck I love riding you.” You admitted and Aemond smirked at your coarseness, definitely amused but proud to see you enjoy his cock so much.   “Keep going then, my fierce rider.” He joked and submitted to you even more to observe you take what you so eagerly wanted. He loved dominating you but there was something truly satisfying in seeing you fervently enjoying yourself on top of him. He made him feel somewhat adored, a feeling that had been too rare in his young life.      

“Touch me, please.”  You asked and one of the prince’s big hands gladly left your waist to slide down to your fold, ready to find your throbbing clit and send you over the edge, a generous gesture he was happy to offer you.       “Not here.” You stopped him, almost breathless. You took his hands in yours and abruptly brought them to your bouncing breasts that left unattended for too long to your taste. “There.” Aemond obediently cupped them as if he was holding two beautiful fruits and instantly started to toy with your sensitive perky nipples, pinching them and rolling them between his fingers. You grunted as he did and dug your nails in the wooden edge of the tub when you felt yourself almost fall on top of the Targaryen prince.           Your breasts brushed Aemond’s face in your fall and, unable to resist their delicious shape, he claimed one by catching it with his mouth. He immediately started sucking it loudly, twirling his tongue around the nipple as his cock began to throb in your cunt. It was no secret he liked your breasts in his mouth but you never saw the prince adoring them like that. Usually, he would suck at them for comfort, not for lustful purposes.     As he kept on devouring your teats, Aemond’s hand slid down your sides to find your waist again. He grabbed you firmly and you felt him adjust himself underneath you, forcing you to stop your eager bouncing on top of him. You clearly understood what he was trying to do. So, you bent on top of him even more, pressing your forehead to his, to help him a bit.     “You don’t mind?”     “Not if you bring me to the stars with you.” You whispered closed to his lips with a smile and he chuckled almost silently.   “Hmm… I can do that.”         “I’m sure you can, my dragon.”         He took your words as a challenge anyway and rapidly became entranced. He thrusted his cock inside you hard and deep to make you mewl and then when he reached the end of your squelchy pit, he began hammering you from underneath.         The water in the tub became agitated as you took each of Aemond’s mighty thrusts with loud lustful cries that only encouraged him to accelerate and soon your walls began to clench more and more around Aemond’s throbbing cock.             You were aware of the power of a tightening cunt around an aching shaft and you could definitely tell by looking at Aemond’s face wrinkled with pleasure that he was very close to reach his high. So, you tried to warn him, afraid he was too lost in lust to realise he was very close to milk his cock inside you.           “Aemond, careful. You will—”         “Let me… let me.” He panted almost begging you.

You eyed at him with surprise but also seriousness. You did not want him to make a reckless decision that he would regret later.     He sensed your state of mind and caught your look. His purple eye was lidded, reflecting the incoming burst growing inside him but he was still very conscious of his actions. “That’s alright. I truly want it. I want to know how it feels to breed a woman… to breed you.”           Just as before, his words made you moan and shiver and you ultimately nodded and buried your face in his neck, offering him your body to do as he wished.       Your submission set Aemond’s loins on fire and a solid hand wrapped around the back of your neck as he bit your shoulder like an animal in heat trying to breed his mate. He did not hurt you though. His hand and teeth were just merely to keep you in place as he kept chasing his release inside you with a rough and fervent pace.   His need was bringing you closer to your climax. Seeing Aemond so desperate, so eager to cum inside of you was the most arousing thing in the world. And after a few perfect thrusts, your walls began to flutter and you finally came loudly, crying in his neck. Your cunt furiously clenched and unclenched around his cock as you went up and down your high.             “Don’t muffle your screams, not tonight, not as I put my seed in you.” The Targaryen commanded as he felt you cum around him and push his aching cock towards its release.                 “Aemond!!” You shouted and he finally spurted his semen into you as he growled lewdly for long seconds, his voice following the rhythm of his manhood emptying itself in your comforting hole.

When there was nothing else that he could give you, the prince’s body became limp and he let himself sink in the tub, dragging you down with him. You laid against him, his cock still inside you keeping his seed as deeply as possible, your head on his beating chest, and you silently listened to his thundering heart.         You were both tired and panting, unable to move and to talk. But even if you could, what would you do? What would you say that your silence and embrace couldn’t show already? You rubbed your face on Aemond, trembling but very satisfied and you wrapped your arms around him. He responded with his fingertips caressing your back and that’s all you both needed right now.          

‘Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods toss a coin in the air and the world holds its breath. Which side will it be, greatness or madness.’ You didn’t know if your mother had tossed a coin for you and if she had, which side it had fallen on. But as your body was still united with Aemond’s, you began to think that if you tossed a coin right now it would show you madness because you were mad about your prince.

[two-white-butterflies]

WAITING FOR A BUS

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Daemon Targaryen x Reader (MODERN)

Description: A new promotion at work prompts you to move into a small modest town with your boyfriend, Aemond Targaryen. There you meet a few friendly faces. It seems like life is going where it's supposed to. That is until you meet your new boss, Daemon Targaryen, who is your boyfriend's estranged uncle.

It doesn't help with the fact that you've been having dreams about him since birth.

masterlist | chapter twenty

After the conversation, Olenna left the both of you alone - she figured that giving you time to think was important. "He murdered someone. Bloody crazy." you mumbled, retracing the conversations that you had with him - searching for signs that he was only showing you a facade of what he was.

"I knew that he was unhinged, but not fucking mad." he replied rubbing circles on his palms.

When a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin - madness and greatness are their two sides.

"That could've been me," you huffed, forgetting about the coffee in front of you. Aemond has always been - different, anger pumped through his veins and his emotions changed as easily as he breathed. "I wanna get the hell out of here, Daemon." you added, finding comfort in his presence.

"I don't want to see anyone that we know. I don't wanna see Aegon, or Helaena or Alicent." you rambled off, remembering the times that they defended Aemond's hostility towards you. They didn't harm you - but they tolerated the harm that was happening to you.

He would scream at you in front of them, talk about indecent things in your presence, and all that they could say was: it was normal.

Yes, it was normal.

It was normal for Aemond to act that way, but it didn't make it right.

Daemon watches you descend into the past. His hands snake towards the small of your back, comforting you silently with his warm palms. He could see right though you - every neuron and thought that went through your brain.

"Did they know about the murder?" you ask, eyes narrowing at the thought of death. Alicent was a good person, but a mother will go through lengths to protect her children.

He leans into his chair. He takes a deep breath before opening his mouth. "Apparently, Aegon testified in his defense." he answered truthfully, recalling the words that were written in the report. "Fuck, that's messed up." you cursed, burying your head in your palms.

"I-I don't think I can ever look at them in the same way again." you stuttered, a permanent title was etched above their names. Criminals and defenders.

"You don't have to look at them again. We can move away from here - and forget all about them. You studied five-years in law. You can continue studying if you want to." he offered, retracting his hand and playing with his watch.

He's been thinking about leaving for a long time. He's been wanting to finish his Ph.D since he's stepped foot inside Dragonview. He only stayed because there was a reason to stay.

"I'd love that."

(Five-Years Later)

It's been five years since you disappeared off the face of the earth. You can still remember the day that you left: May 8, 2023 - and everything after that was pure bliss.

You and Daemon quickly moved into Switzerland, enjoying the snow - and the scenery around you. He finished studying for his Ph.D a few years quicker than he was supposed to - you however postponed finishing your law degree. Instead, you focused on teaching kinder-gardeners and healing from your scars. The both of you were lucky to welcome your first child, Maekar Targaryen.

After Switzerland - you moved to Siargao.

The warm sand was kissing your barefoot. The shoreline was beautiful in the morning, but the sun was far different than what they had in Canada. There was humidity in the air, and the sun felt like razor blades in the afternoon.

"Do you wanna go for a swim?" Daemon asks while pulling your hand closer to the water.

"It's not safe yet, I don't want to get stung." you whined but he keeps laughing and pulling you inside the water.

The water was warm - slightly colder than the sand. It was comforting to be in paradise - the constant feel of the current on your legs, and his warm hands that were wrapped around yours.

"They're not gonna bite you, I promise." he smiled, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. He was enjoying life - the both of you were. "The last time we took a morning swim, I had to get hauled to the hospital." you recall and he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry for that," he laughed, as the both of you walked deeper into the water. The seaweed was tickling your feet. You tried to avoid the corals and the fishes. The smell of salt-water flooded your nose. You remove your hand from his own. You lift both of your arms, holding onto him for balance.

You couldn't reach the water anymore - and he was the only person tall enough to reach it at this point. "It's nice here," you mumbled, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He smelled like home.

"Let's stay here for a while." you add, his hands wrap around you for balance. "We should live here - I'll buy a house right there, beside the celebrity's house - so Maekar can swim whenever he wants to." he imagined, earning a playful glare from you.

"And who's going to watch him?" you huffed, his hands wrap around you tighter. "Me." he answered, reaching for your jaw with his free hands - pulling you closer and bridging your lips together.

His lips tasted like salt, but his mouth was sweet.

"I love you, Dae."

"I love you too."

You walked slowly to your beach-chair - hair dripping with water. Maekar and the maid were sitting on one of the chairs, watching the sun shine. Your little boy liked being on the beach - he also hated wearing sunscreen, much to your dismay.

He was wily, and talkative. He blabbered about a subject, but none could understand what he was talking about - he was only four months old anyways. He always reached for your hair, bite his father's fingers - and laugh at everything he saw.

He was half of your soul. You love him with all of your heart.

You fish for the phone inside of your bag. There were a few notifications from work and pilates, but one of them managed to catch your eye - it was Rhaenyra messaging you from the abyss.

NYRA 5:49AM It's been a while. I was hoping that you and Daemon could come back here. It's very important. NYRA 5:49AM As you know...Alicent's been struggling with her disease for a long time now. She died peacefully inside her house. Aegon and his kids were there, but she's getting buried a few days from now and none of us know where you are. NYRA 6:00AM It would mean the world for us if you attended. The funeral's being held in the Clubhouse, come whenever. 💚

You read out the long message, tears flooding your vision as the news became too heavy for you to bear. "Daemon!" you call out to him and he emerges from the waves, wearing a badge of confusion.

"Yeah?" he asked, reaching for the towel on the sand. He wraps it around his torso - eyebrows merging into each other as he sees the tears that were flowing from your irises. "Alicent's dead." you informed, before wrapping your arms around him in grief.

"Oh no," he replied, combing through your hair.

He didn't believe that Alicent was part of the family - but she was the mother of his niece and nephews. She suffered under the abuse of her husband, his brother, and that earned her respect. Her existence didn't leave a mark on his life - but it left a mark on yours.

"We need to be there, I need to see her." you pleaded and he nodded his head. He could never disagree with you. "I'll book the tickets. We'll take the quickest flight out of here." he promised while turning his head towards his baby boy. "Hello, Maekar." he leaned down on the chair, taking the boy out of Liz's hold.

"We'll bring him. His cousins should meet him." you inform, staring lovingly at the little boy. He tried to reach for your hair, but Daemon pulls him away.

"You silly boy, always reaching for mama's hair." he chuckles, rocking the baby gently.

next chapter>>

taglist: @urmomsgirlfriend1 @namelesslosers @immyowndefender @ammo2022 @perihelioneclipse @gracielikegrapes @joliettes @ammo23

ONE LAST CHAPTER (for my own self-indulgence)

[fiend-streak]

Flipped coin. I think I heard that one before... "King Jaehaerys once told me that madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, he said, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land." Yes, GoT vibes.

Also, ever played lute or other instrument at camp with Scratch? He's the vocalist, best boi!

!I won't be adding more Astarion.! His "fanbase" is made of way too many toxic girls who bring up DnD lore if you disagree with them but ignore the lore when it suits their scenario. Not to mention they're ready to scratch your eyes out for it. Plus I'm tired of people insulting of sending me death threats.

[reignof-fyre]

Saw a post about Daenerys' name meaning and decided to do some research for myself :)

So the name Daenerys itself was created by GRRM, but if we pull it apart into "Dae" and "Nerys" - both of which are names themselves - we get these meanings.

Dae - Greatness, the great one; shining, "light and hope" as in "a new day."

"The name Dae is primarily a male name of Korean origin that means Greatness."

Nerys - Lord, chief, hero, manliness, courage, lady

Nerys is a Welsh feminine given name. It may be a modern coinage, an elaboration of Middle Welsh ner "lord, chief" (which relates to the modern Welsh words nêr "hero" and nerth "manliness, courage") using the popular suffix -ys (found in Carys, Dilys, Gladys and Glenys).

Meaning: uncertain; possibly "lady"

Gender: Feminine

So, GRRM has admitted that he choses the names of his main characters with intent. Daenerys' name is a glaring indication of her future.

Something her name meaning reminds me of is the famous quote Barristan Selmy says to Daenerys:

"King Jaehaerys once told me that madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, he said, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land."

Dany's name legit means "greatness", so safe to say she's dodged the "madness" coin-flip.

As for the Nerys part of her name, it reminds me of this:

"Lead us from the darkness, O my Lord. Fill our hearts with fire, so we may walk your shining path. R'hllor, you are the light in our eyes, the fire in our hearts, the heat in our loins. Yours is the sun that warms our days, yours the stars that guard us in the dark of night."

New days begin with dawns, and what is the Prince who was Promised said to bring?

The Dawn.

Daenerys is associated with many things: a fiery heart (she ate a horse heart, her dragons burned the blue, rotting heart in the House of the Undying), dragons (fire made flesh), blood magic, day, heat, she is called "bride of fire" by the Undying, and "moon of my life" by Khal Drogo, and R'hllor is associated with stars and the moon. She also slept with Khal Drogo in the womb of the world ("the heat in our loins").

Azor Ahai was also said to have a Red Sword of Heroes, and Drogon is red and black with black and red fire. I think he's Lightbringer.

With all this, it makes sense that Dany is the Prince Who was Promised, and will bring the dawn.

[mirdaniaa]

thinking about Jahaerys saying that every time a Targaryen is born the gods flip a coin and on one side is madness and on the other is greatness and Daemon and Rhaenyra are essentially two sides of the same coin and this season has been leading up to it but this episode was the first real glimpse at what it really means for them to be those two sides sides of the same coin

[things-i-think-and-junk]

“King Jaehaerys once told me that madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, he said, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.”

I had a eureka moment with this. The quote is always used to indicate that the Targaryens have inherent madness. I kind of think that GRRM isn’t talking about the Targaryens psychologically, but how they choose to rule. It’s not genetics, it’s the sort of ruler they will be.

Power can change people and the closer they come to it, the more that “taint” will come out.

GoT stupidly had the line “the gods toss a coin in the air”. That coin isn’t a flip for madness or greatness, that coin is their rule and the outcome. None of this means Dany is predisposed to insanity, but that she has a cross in the road, going one way leads to tyranny or inability, the other to a great legacy.

Maybe this is just a “well duh” take, but it kind of was like a light going off in me.

What a shock that GoT framed this quote wrong to justify their choice to make Dany commit genocide. It’s not GRRM’s meaning and not the point he was driving at.

[lanluluto]

What is a story (or multiple stories!) that you would like to write or see written?

(Please excuse the incredibly late response! I think we should exchange handles so I can be LanNeverWrites because that is more fitting at this point 😆 Love and appreciate the ask 💖)

Ay, I am in the camp of "I'm writing this because I want to read it" so here are two ideas in the AR fandom that lurk/float around my headspace:

ONE: Yassen shares custody of Alex with MI6, Hades and Persephone-style: Alex spends half the year with Yassen, and half the year with MI6. Each of them thinks he's a double agent for their side. Only Alex knows where his loyalty lies, and which guardian he considers winter and which spring.

Character-wise, I am really intrigued by an Alex who has a strong sense of self and sets his own terms. I would want him to be 100% aware of both parties' agendas, but he has goals of his own and finds ways to play Scorpia and MI6 off each other. I would also love to see Mrs. Jones and Yassen juggling their dual roles as Alex's handler and surrogate parent figure.

TWO: Hear me out on this one: Game of Thrones crossover 🐲😜Yassen's diverse appearance across the books, TV, and movie is a source of never-ending amusement. I want a 20k chronicle, written in the laborious historical style of Fire and Blood, with Alex Targaryen as vengeful dragon-Rider who crosses the Narrow Sea and seizes the Iron Throne back from Stannis (Alan Blunt, of course) and encounters blond!Yasha Lannister, redhead!Cossack Tully, and brunette!Yassen Stark along the way.

Alex has hidden motives, a keen head for politics, and mf dragons, but he is also racing against the curse of all Targaryens: "Madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin."

In summary, I love me a BAMF!Alex and twisty plots that keep you guessing 😍 Thank you for the ask!

[tomakeitbeautifultolive]

What bothers me is the saying that when a Targaryen is born, god flips a coin on whether they’re good or mad. So how many known mad Targaryens are there? Is it truly 50/50 or is it heavily inflated?

Short answer: Very heavily inflated.

Long answer: There are a few things to clear up before I start compiling the list. ‘Madness’ is classified as 'the state of being mentally ill’: 

So, those who make my 'mad’ list are going to fit this definition, whereas Targaryens who, say, took lives due to participation in medieval wars or battles, will not fall into the 'mad’ category.

So what’s the quote, exactly?

“King Jaehaerys once told me that madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, he said, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.”

Now, let’s bust that ‘Targaryen Madness’ myth!

Depending on the type of coin used, the probability of a coin flip differs. It’s either 50/50, 51/49, and in some more extreme estimations, as high as 55/45. Which, according to the above quote, means Targaryen madness has a roughly 45-55% chance of occurring.

Even in the Wiki of Ice and Fire, Targaryen Madness has its own entry, stating that:

“It must be observed that of the Targaryen kings who ruled Westeros for almost 300 years, only Aerys could be considered truly mad.”

List of 'Mad’ Targaryens (6):

Maegor I 'the Cruel’ Targaryen

Baelor I 'the Blessed’ Targaryen (this one is debatable)

Prince Rhaegel Targaryen

Aerion 'the Monstrous’ 'Brightflame’ Targaryen

Aerys II 'the Mad King’ Targaryen

Viserys 'the Beggar King’ Targaryen (this one is debatable)

(To better understand why these Targaryens are classified as mad, visit the Villains Wiki for a nice description for each character)

Possible ’Mad’ Targaryens (4):

Helaena Targaryen (became depressed and descended into madness, committed suicide)

Aelora Targaryen (driven mad with grief after losing her husband, committed suicide)

Daenerys 'Stormborn’ Targaryen (no madness in books, yet show made her 'go mad’ from grief and ‘bells’, apparently)

Maelys I 'the Monstrous’ Blackfyre (not actually a Targaryen. Ruthless and cruel, not necessarily mad, did possess a physical deformity)

List of non-Mad Targaryens (80):

Aenar Targaryen

Gaemon 'the Glorious’ Targaryen

Daenys 'the Dreamer’ Targaryen

Aegon Targaryen

Elaena Targaryen

Maegon Targaryen

Aerys Targaryen

Aelyx Targaryen

Baelon Targaryen

Daemion Targaryen

Aerion Targaryen

Visenya Targaryen

Aegon I Targaryen

Rhaenys Targaryen

Aenys I Targaryen

Rhaena Targaryen

Aegon 'the Uncrowned’ Targaryen

Viserys Targaryen 

Jaehaerys I 'the Wise’ Targaryen

'Good Queen’ Alysanne Targaryen

Rhaella Targaryen

Aerea Targaryen

Daenerys Targaryen

Vaegon 'the Dragonless’ Targaryen

Maegelle Targaryen

Viserra Targaryen

Saera Targaryen

Gael Targaryen

Aemon Targaryen

Daella Targaryen* (maybe had anxiety?)

Baelon 'the Brave’ Targaryen

Alyssa Targaryen

Rhaenys 'the Queen Who Never Was’ Targaryen

Viserys I Targaryen

Daemon 'the Rogue Prince’ Targaryen* (maybe suffered narcissism?)

Baela Targaryen

Rhaena Targaryen 'of Pentos’

Viserys II Targaryen

Aegon III 'the Younger’ Targaryen* (Had a temper, I guess?)

Jaehaera Targaryen (committed suicide, maybe? probably murdered)

Jaehaerys Targaryen (born with six fingers and toes?)

Aegon II 'the Elder’ Targaryen (Was cruel?)

Aemond 'One-Eye’ Targaryen (Was a shitty person, I guess?)

Daeron 'the Daring’ Targaryen

Elaena Targaryen

Septa Rhaena Targaryen

Daeron I 'the Young Dragon’ Targaryen

Daena 'the Defiant’ Targaryen

Aegon IV 'the Unworthy’ Targaryen (Was a shitty person, I guess?)

Naerys Targaryen

Aemon 'the Dragonknight’ Targaryen

Daemon I Blackfyre

Daeron II ’ the Good’ Targaryen

Daenerys Targaryen of Dorne

Maekar I Targaryen (Had a temper I guess?)

Aerys I Targaryen

Baelor 'Breakspear’ Targaryen

Matarys Targaryen

Valarr 'the Young Prince’ Targaryen

Brynden 'Lord Bloodraven’ Rivers (Was kind of a shitty person, I guess?)

Shiera Seastar (Was rumored to be a murdery sorceress?)

Aegor 'Bittersteel’ Rivers (Had a temper, I guess?)

Rhae Targaryen

Aegon V 'the Unlikely’ Targaryen

Daella Targaryen

Maester Aemon Targaryen

Daenora Targaryen

Aelor Targaryen

Maegor Targaryen (fears that he would inherit his father’s madness, I guess?)

Daeron 'the Drunken’ Targaryen

Vaella Targaryen (simple-minded or low IQ, I guess?)

Prince Duncan 'the Small’ Targaryen

Jaehaerys II Targaryen

Shaera Targaryen

Rhaelle Targaryen

Daeron Targaryen

Queen Rhaella Targaryen

Rhaegar 'the Silver Prince’ Targaryen

Rhaenys Targaryen

Aegon Targaryen (👶?) (or… may be Young Griff?)

Non-'Mad’ Offspring from Targaryen Mothers (11):

Laena Velaryon (gave birth to a deformed son, I guess?)

Jacaerys Velaryon

Lucerys Velaryon

Joffrey Velaryon

Joy Penrose

Jon Waters

Jeyne Waters

Viserys Plumm

Robin Penrose

Laena Penrose

Jocelyn Penrose

Targaryens who died as babies (11):

Vaella Targaryen 👶

Aegon Targaryen 👶

Gaemon Targaryen 👶

Valerion Targaryen 👶

Aegon Targaryen 👶

Maelor Targaryen 👶

Baelon Targaryen 👶

Jaehaerys Targaryen 👶

Aegon Targaryen 👶

Daeron Targaryen 👶

Shaena Targaryen 👶

Targaryen babies born with physical deformities (2):

Visenya Targaryen 👶 (twisted and malformed)

Rhaego 👶 (born deformed… likely the result of magic)

Equations and Conclusion:

If we want to get VERY generous and say that EVERY Targaryen baby who died young would end up mad, we’d be at 23 Targaryens out of 114 known Targaryens, or a madness rate of about 16%. That’s nowhere near the 45% chance of a coin toss.

Still being a generous, we’ll lump together all the mad Targaryens, possibly mad Targaryens, all the non-mad ones with footnotes, and the deformed babies - we get 27 total, which would be about 24% - but this is including people who just have bad attitudes, anxiety, rumors spread about them, or FEARS of madness… is that fair? No, it’s not. Then literally every character in Westeros or Essos would be classified as mad.

If we aim to be a little fairer, including only the known 'mad’ Targaryens, the four debatably 'mad’ Targaryens, and the two babies who were born deformed but died young… then we’d be at a whopping 12 cases of madness out of 114 Targaryens, or about 9%.

However, provable cases of genetic madness? Fuck, I’ll even throw in Daenerys! That brings us up to SEVEN cases of madness out of 114 Targaryens.

…SEVEN ‘MAD’ TARGARYENS.

OUT OF ONE-HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN.

Which means that about *SIX PERCENT* of Targaryens have shown any actual 'madness’ in the hundreds of years they’ve inhabited Westeros.

[ensifervm]

“ Tywin Lannister shits gold “ “ Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin “

What those two things have in common? Both of them are common saying. No one single Lannister shits gold, but they are known for being very rich, so people like to say that they shit gold.

The Targaryen are known for being a great and ancient dynasty. Only few of them went mad, only some of them did great things. But the commoners only remembers those who leave a sign, and that sign can both be madness or greatness. That’s what created the “ every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin “ thing.

Why am I saying this? Well, because it seems that the common saying about the Lannister is not enough to make a Lannister really shit gold, but the Targaryen thing is enough to randomly turn Daenerys into a mad queen. There are common saying about all the houses in Westeros, but I think none of them reflects the reality. So stop saying that the Targaryen always had both greatness and madness in them. They were men and women like others. Some of them did great things, some of them did terrible things. Like all the other rulers. Daenerys was born to do great things and what they did to her was pure bullshit. Period.

[jonsafan-blog]

The Tarly Troubles

Sansa’s main objection to Daenerys before Jon left to Dragonstone was that she was an unknown element. Daenerys had just arrived from Essos, and while it was possible stories of her adventures had become known to the North, her personality would not have been.

However, Daenerys is her father’s daughter - the man who burned their grandfather alive and made their uncle watch.

While they could trust Tyrion more than most people in Westeros, Daenerys was coming to Westeros to conquer it, including the North. That made her a de facto enemy to the Starks.

The problem in this situation with the Mad King isn’t just that the Mad King was evil, but that the Starks were part of the rebellion to overthrow the Targaryens. The Starks benefitted from the demise of the Targaryens.

Daenerys is well aware of that.

The Starks have their own experience with traitor families.

Even though Jon pardoned Ned Umber and Alys Karstark and allowed them to keep their castles, this was considered an unusually merciful action. Sansa would never have executed them, but she did worry that the same advisors responsible for helping the previous Lords of the house would continue to advise Ned and Alys to act against the Starks.

Sansa appeared to get along well with Ned. He is a child who shares the name of her father, so perhaps that is part of it, but I imagine there is a different pressure to Ned and Alys’s continued loyalties given they are not the only Northern houses, but these two houses were the ones primarily responsible for aiding the Boltons in the Battle of the Bastards.

That makes them outliers - not the norm. Half of the Seven Kingdoms rebelled against the Targaryens, and the remaining families: Lannisters, Tullys, and Arryns, are also rebels of that rebellion. The Greyjoys are also included in that list, but Yara pledged for Daenerys long before she set sail, which resulted in Yara retaining her crown similar to Dornish princes.

Putting Sansa’s own experience with traitors to her family, it makes sense why she would be wary around Daenerys. Daenerys might think it prudent to strip the Starks of their lands in the North if she came into power. Daenerys might also strip the lands of the Lannisters, Tullys, and Arryns as well.

Sansa is not aware of Daenerys’s desire to break the wheel, but it is clear that Daenerys likely consider stripping the rebellious families of their lands.

Or, she could simply execute Jon after arriving on Dragonstone because he believed to be Ned Stark’s son.

This is what Sansa worried about before Jon left.

That didn’t happen, which I imagine does assuage some of the worst fears for Sansa, though it does not remove a fear which is certainly at the back of her mind:

Daenerys is Queen now, which means she can take away the North if she so pleases.

The only reason Daenerys was likely accepted into Winterfell wasn’t just because she was helping them with the White Walkers, but because Jon still lived.

As it stands, Daenerys is still an outsider - an unknown element, to the Northerners. They aren’t sure if she will respect their way of life should they all survive the war.

They had already lost their right to self-rule because of Jon, and history has proven that some Targaryens were insane and attacked their vassals.

That Daenerys would be Queen in the south would mean that she is removed from their influence. The Northern lords would not have a seat at the table like they do with the King in the North.

However, the current objections Sansa and the Northerners have against Daenerys is assuming she is a rational ruler now but that they fear for their future, either in her late rule or in her heirs.

Her father wasn’t always insane. King Aerys was once a beloved king for many years in his early reign, but his insanity gripped him and he even acted out on former friends.

This insanity is a known trait among Targaryens, and something which is described with a coin: when a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin. That means there is effectively a fifty-fifty change Westeros will have a terrible ruler. An insane ruler.

But again, Daenerys is merely a Targaryen, not necessarily the worst of her family. She has freed slaves and done a lot of good. She is also helping the North fight against the White Walkers and she wants to overthrow Cersei.

The North hates slavery. They need help against the White Walkers. Cersei is also the devil incarnate to them.

All in all, the North should reasonably expect a positive alliance with Daenerys.

Only there are inklings she may not be a great ruler, and the North is very aware of that.

There is a lot working against Daenerys going into season eight. Some of it was in her control, and some of it is just her own misfortune.

She has not received an appropriate Westerosi education

Daenerys was pursued by Robert for much of her early years and was raised by her older brother who was barely more than a child himself. They depended upon charity to survive, and Daenerys was effectively ignorant of her homeland.

We know this because she latched onto Jorah and his gift of books on Westeros. He was like an oasis in the desert for her.

Upon arriving in Westeros, it is clear Daenerys isn’t fully informed on how to approach different families and cultures.

As an example: everyone in Westeros mocks the North for their severity. However, they are not unaware of what a typical Northerner is like.

Daenerys seems completely unprepared for handling the North and Westeros in general. However, I get the sense this miscommunication does not come across as naive ignorance, but willful disregard.

Northerners do not like pretense, but they know southerners still pretend.

Tyrion tried to reach out to the North in the Great Hall using Jon as the bridge. It did not work, but it showed sincerity Daenerys did not... because Daenerys does not know it is expected that she will try to bridge the gap between them.

She also appears to misunderstand the gravity of winter and the importance of the house structure in Westeros, given her own ill-prepared state going into the war and her dismissal of the importance of the Tarlys in the power vacuum of the Reach and southern kingdoms.

Jorah is at her side

I love Jorah Bear. He’s the best. But the Northerner’s wouldn’t think so.

On the surface, he appears to be a boon, not a detriment, but it is important to realize that Jorah committed a serious crime in Westeros when he sold poachers into slavery. He did not hand them over to face justice, but profited of their servitude. His wife’s expensive tastes were not an excuse... and he knew that. He fled Westeros rather than face justice himself.

His father, Jeor Mormont, actually abdicated his position as Lord of Bear Island to give his son an opportunity to lead the house... meaning his son had far more money that he would have had previously.

Combined with the fact that he became a mercenary in Essos, he likely has a very negative reputation even before his connection to Daenerys is considered.

And he is her longest-serving advisor and her closest friend. I’m glad she hasn’t abandoned him, and she shouldn’t, since he is loyal to her and provides pretty good advice most of the time, but it is clear his presence actually detracts from her influence in the North rather than helps.

She is a Dothraki khal

The Dothraki are the most hated people from Essos in Westeros. They live nomadic lives pillaging and raping everyone in their path. They are like the Ironborn, but worse.

Before Daenerys became an abolitionist, she was the wife of the most famous Dothraki khal. It was rumored that Khal Drogo was working with Viserys to invade Westeros. This never came to pass, but that Daenerys leads an army of Dothraki to invade Westeros is not in her favor when it comes to winning the hearts and minds of Westerosi.

Jon was killed for letting in Wildlings, and Westeros prefers wildlings to Dothraki.

Her dragons are monsters

Before even getting into what her dragons have actually done, it is important to note that dragons are considered the weapon of mass destruction in this universe. The Valyrians almost took over the whole world because of their dragonriders, and the Targaryens took over an entire continent with just three dragons.

Dragons themselves are animals that can burn entire armies and castles. They have voracious appetites and can be difficult to control.

They also have a mind of their own, which means they can go rogue and cause a lot of damage.

Daenerys didn’t come to Westeros with the most powerful army in the world - she came with nuclear weapons she intends to use on its people. She intends to keep those weapons to keep those people in line.

She likely intends to hatch more dragons and keep the symbol of her famiy’s power in tact.

And there is every sign in the world that bringing dragons into the world and keeping their requires bloodshed. The attempted hatching at Summerhall resulted in the death of most of the Targaryens even before Robert’s Rebellion.

Dragons, and everything connected to them, are very fatal.

She already lost a dragon.

Daenerys wants to help the North, but her help has already resulted in the war against the dead being more difficult than it already was.

The problem with creating weapons is that once something is in the world, it’s hard to take it out of the world. Nuclear weapons on Earth have proliferated, and it is an earnest fear of many governments and individual citizens that it may come into the hands of a rogue nation or terrorist cell.

That’s exactly what has happened in with the Night King.

Before the battle was a fight against a traditional army that happened to be undead. Now the battle is against an undead dragon that can cause just as much damage as a traditional dragon but is a lot harder to kill.

And that weapon has destroyed the wall - one of the greatest wonders in the world. Before the war had been about keeping the White Walkers on the other side of the Wall, but now they are past the wall and there is no way they can get the White Walkers to retreat and stay trapped behind it.

The North and Westeros have lost their greatest defense mechanism against the worst army in the history of the world - that is now a lot stronger because Daenerys lost control of her weapon of mass destruction.

All might have been forgiven if Daenerys was who she said she was and not who people feared her to be

The crux of the mistrust towards Daenerys by the North, and especially Sansa, is that Daenerys has a lot going for her and what goes against her can be forgiven by unfortunate circumstances or twisted in a favorable light for her allies.

However, this benefit of a doubt is given to Daenerys because she claims to be all her great titles in a positive and affirming way without being the Mad King that was her father.

But when Daenerys participated in her first real battle in Westeros, she did everything she wasn’t supposed to do and confirmed the fears of Tyrion by doing so.

She burned an entire army indiscriminately, and then burned alive those who would not submit to her.

This indiscriminate execution is the exact reason Robert’s Rebellion happened in the first place. Rhaegar and Lyanna running off instigated the conflict, but it did not happen in isolation of other events. Westeros was angry and afraid of the mad king for some time, and when Sansa and Jon’s grandfather went to King Aerys to demand justice, justice was answered with torture.

Not, "I’ll look into it guys” or even “Tough luck, I believe in my son” but murder. And a murder that everyone at court felt powerless to stop. The Starks weren’t even the first people burned alive at court. Nor were they the last. There were many other pyromanic executions at court.

While Westeros is unaware of it, Aerys also planned to burn all of Kind’s Landing down until Jaime stopped him.

That’s what happened on the Gold Road. Daenerys decided that the Tarlys deserved a painful death similar to the method her father preferred. This went against the advice of her advisors, and everyone watched in horror as they were unable to prevent an event very similar to what caused Ned, Robert, and Jon Arryn to raise their bannerman in rebellion in the first place.

Sansa fears that Jon bent the knee not to save the North, but because he loved Daenerys. Sansa also knows that love makes people blind - it blinded Robb and resulted in his death, and Sansa fears that Daenerys may just be a pretty Aerys.

There is not yet any proof of Daenerys being a mad queen.

But not for lack of evidence - the North just isn’t aware of what happened at the Gold Road yet. And once they know... it might change everything.

It will change the North.

It will change how the North perceives Daenerys.

It will change how the North perceives Jon.

Among the Starks, it will also damage the relationship between Jon and Sansa the most.

What happened to the Tarlys is a fundamental problem for the North in their acceptance of Daenerys that cannot be disregarded because it confirms all their worst fears about Daenerys.

It also confirms their worst fears about Jon.

When Jon left for Dragonstone, he did so against the wishes of his people. He then did not communicate his intentions or provide updates on his progress effectively. This lead to the Northerners believing he abandoned them when they needed Jon most.

They wanted to make Sansa their Queen.

Sansa is their rightful queen.

She turned them down because Sansa does not want to be Queen for the sake of power. She merely wanted to return home. She wanted to be safe. She wanted to be with her family. Jon was part of her family.

However, the Tarly Troubles present a different set of problems to the story for everyone involved. We know this because of what happened before Daenerys even arrived in Winterfell.

Once the North knows about the Tarlys... everything changes.

Daenerys becomes a threat, and so does Jon.

Why? Because Jon was incommunicado with Daenerys for a long time, and during that time Daenerys was burning armies and noble families.

Jon may not have known, but will the Northerners believe him?

I’m hard-pressed to believe that this is something that can just be smoothed over. They were already ready to depose him. Had Sansa been less of a person, had she loved him less, she would have seized power for herself.

So why would the North suddenly change?

The answer is they won’t.

Jon Snow is Jon Snow. They call him the King in the North whose name is Stark, but his name is not really Stark... is it?

And that’s before the fact he is a legitimate Targaryen comes into question and it looks like he is colluding with his real father’s family.

There are other Starks in the world... capable Starks in their mind. And she also helped lead the North against the Boltons. She was the one who brought a friendly long-allied army to their cause.

She did not leave the North.

Now we as fans know that Daenerys is not mindlessly evil and we know that Jon is loyal to the Starks, but the North isn’t so sure, and the Tarly Troubles will really put a light on those issues.

Going into this season, it is clear that a lot of fandom theories and are not only possible... but necessary to resolve the political tension in the story.

The best way to ensure the North is ruled by a Stark is to put a Stark into power. However, that political tension is not resolved by Sansa staying in the North and Jon ruling in the south.

The North never wants to be ruled by a southern leader again.

That said, it would be ridiculous to presume that Jon won’t redeem himself in the eyes of the North in a major way. The North will come to trust Jon again, though they will always have a nagging worry about his lineage.

The easy solution is one of two paths should Jon survive the end of the series: He never marries... or he marries the Stark the North realizes they want: Sansa.

Jon is not even nominally a Stark, even though he was raised by Ned and his cousins accept him. He was a Snow, and eventually, it will be revealed that he is a Targaryen.

That’s a problem.

It’s also not just a problem for the North - the southern houses will want to eliminate the legacy of the Targaryens, and Sansa has strong connections to the Riverlands and the Vale.

Remember: Catelyn was able to take Tyrion hostage in the Riverlands and have him tried in the Vale. This is important, because that is two kingdoms of which Sansa has potential influence in - two kingdoms that also hate the Targaryens.

It’s no mistake or coincidence that Sansa has been held up as the “key to the North” or that she has been seen as the second-coming of Catelyn Tully. That she also spent an impressionable amount of time in the Vale and is loved by Robin Arryn is also no coincidence.

Sansa is politically powerful. Arya and Bran are never held up to the same standard... because their role narratively is not to be the ruler of Winterfell.

But Jon and Sansa coming together is not just a matter of politics. When Sansa confronts Jon about bending the knee to a Targaryen queen, it is clear that she is personally hurt by his decision. She is, in essence, jealous.

Some people read this as political jealous while others believe it is personal jealousy.

Either way, there is a strong amount of jealousy there which suggests Sansa is not just ideologically opposed to Jon’s actions on a pragmatic level... she feels personally attacked.

That’s an interesting emotion given the fact we know Sansa chose to abstain from taking Jon’s power even when it was easy. Even when it was legally hers.

Even though Jon himself admitted she was responsible for winning the Battle of the Bastards.

But Sansa doesn’t see Jon as King of the North as being personally robbed. She was happy.

Sansa was not happy when Jon appeared loyal to Daenerys over his own family... over Sansa.

And the way Sansa’s jealousy is made clear is one of romantic intentions.

Sansa believes Jon bent the knee because Jon is in love with Daenerys. Not in love with her ability as a ruler... in love with Daenerys.

The Tarly Troubles confirm the seed Littlefinger planted in Sansa’s mind last season when he said that Jon and Daenerys might marry because she was attractive.

Throughout the last season, Sansa was worried because Jon left the North and did not communicate his intentions. When he returned, all her worst fears were realized:

He gave up the crown Sansa fought for him to keep because she loved him more than power.

He gave away the security of the North’s future post-Long Night even though Sansa didn’t fight for Winterfell for the coming war... she fought for it from the Boltons to have forever.

He didn’t tell her anything that was happening while he was away.

Sansa may think Jon kept the news about the Tarlys from her so that she would accept he bent the knee. People lie for the people they love, and if Sansa believes he lied... she will definitely think he did it for love.

So what Sansa and Jon need personally is to reunite on more equal terms. In this world, hierarchy is a powerful thing. You are either in power over someone, or someone is in power of you. This is true in the Stark family. Although Sansa jokes that Arya will need to call her Lady Stark, it is true that Sansa has a higher rank than Arya and they have a different relationship dynamic because of it.

Before Bran and Arya returned, Jon and Sansa were uniquely positioned as equals. He was King in the North, but Sansa was Lady of Winterfell. This is symbolically two halves of the same position historically, and both Jon and Sansa treated each other as equals. So too did the North once Jon had left - Sansa can step into his role when he is gone, and it is presumed that Sansa would have expected him to be Lord of Winterfell had she gone.

Their entire aesthetic is as a power couple: Jon is Ned Stark and Sansa is Catelyn Stark. Jon brings the military might of Ned, while Sansa brings the political savvy of Catelyn.

They needed each other to rule. They still do.

Sansa will never find an equal in Jon when it comes to a military commander. Jon will never find a political equal in Sansa when it comes to understanding the social dynamics of Westeros.

But they have temporarily split apart when Jon went south, and then forever split apart by Daenerys’s arrival.

The Tarly Troubles send them running in completely separate directions entirely.

However, is marriage alone enough to solve the personal break between Jon and Sansa?

No.

Ned and Catelyn were not on good terms at the start of their marriage. Catelyn had felt betrayed in a similar way that Sansa did. She had lost faith in Ned even though he was a famously honorable person.

It took years to build their relationship again. It’s even stated in the books that Catelyn knew men fathered bastards... but they did not bring them home. And Ned never admitted to Jon’s mother either. This led Catelyn to believe that Ned was in love with another woman. Catelyn was very jealous.

Catelyn only ever asked about Jon’s mother once... and she had been so frightened by Ned’s response she never asked again. She grew to distrust Jon overtime because she feared that Jon’s grandchildren would one day be a threat to her own grandchildren. Jon was always considered an outsider because of it.

Jon brought Daenerys home. Sansa never expected that. He also would not tell her the truth about Daenerys. And Daenerys was a threat to the future of the Starks in Winterfell... especially in Jon was in love with her!

Because you know - the Ned and Catelyn parallels are never exhausted with Jonsa! And nor are the Ned, Catelyn, and Targaryen child parallels!

But Ned and Catelyn did get married, and they did fall in love. And you know who represents the love of that union?

Sansa Stark.

She was the first child born after Ned and Catelyn’s fallout. She was the promise that the Stark line would continue.

Sansa has also been the promise of the Stark line since Robb died.

There is also a lot of show-related anxiety Catelyn had for not “loving a motherless bastard” which we were reminded of in the teaser.

It’s important that Sansa loves Jon more than anyone else as the symbol for Catelyn.

And it’s important that Sansa and Jon continue on as Starks, which they can only do together politically and personally.

Jon needs to feel truly loved by someone else. He also needs the freedom to love another person and have a child without the name Snow. It’s something he has wanted all his life... and what he has always secretly wanted is to have a child with the name Stark.

Which only Sansa can give him.

Likewise, Sansa wants to feel loved herself. She has been abused for so many years by the men in her life. However, all she has ever wanted was to marry a prince and have his babies... but then she realized that brought her pain, so now all she wants is what she has.

But she no longer has what she had before Jon left for Dragonstone, and the irony was that Jon, whom she had, was also a prince.

Jon was part of her family, and now she fears she has lost him to Daenerys.

I don’t think Jon not marrying Daenerys but then marrying another woman would ever fix that worry for Sansa, just as Jon marrying Daenerys and naming his child Targaryen would ever answer his dream of having a child with his name. Jon always assumed he was a Stark, and I don’t think he can shed that desire for the name for Targaryen. He might as well have been Jon Sand.

Jon and Sansa are uniquely the answer to all their hopes and dreams, and the pain both are experiencing at the beginning of season seven is because they have been pushed on different paths and that path is about to get more treacherous because of the Tarly Troubles.

Jon and Sansa don’t want to be separated. They want each other. They were reunited as a power couple to take back Winterfell because that is who they are and who they will be.

And the story can only end with them having each other.

[two-white-butterflies]

of magic and men | daemon targaryen x targaryen!reader

Description: When a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin; madness and greatness. Who said that they couldn't be both?

Your uncle Daemon fights a war with the Crabfeeder and whispers tell you that your father favors his son, Aegon. Which leads you towards a dark path – one of the blackest magic. (requested by @izzybella016) (she/her pronouns used) (TW: creepy behavior, manipulation, blood magic)

Featuring an original character

Being a woman meant laughing at men's jokes, even when it came to your expense. Being her father's heir, meant being the joke. As a child Y/N Targaryen knew how weak her father way – how incapable he was of ruling, and despite all of those facts, she still chose to love him.

A child's love for their parent is insurmountable – but not infinite. It has an end – a breaking point, and Y/N was sure that her father had far exceeded his limits. He chases down the newest thing – his newest son, and tossing away little old Y/N.

"There's no one here for me," she chuckles while turning to look at her sworn shield, Ser Alvaro. He was her only friend in the entire kingdom – everyone either wanted something from her, or wanted to get rid of her. He was constant, he was her rock.

He stands behind her – the darkness only illuminating his features. He places a hand on her shoulder, "All of them are vultures, seeking to gnaw on your bones" he replies while she nods in agreement.

"I feel unsafe here – was it a mistake? Returning here?" she asks for his opinion as he settles his sword down on the table, sitting beside her and placing a hand on the small of her back. "Do you truly seek for my opinion?" he questions sarcastically as she rolls her eyes. "What do you mean?" she turns her head and he shrugs.

Ser Alvaro was wise as he was strong. His opinions were one of the most important things to Y/N. "Well you never truly listen to what I tell you – you'd always prefer listening to Princess Rhaenyra and your uncle" he states the obvious as she frowns.

"I'll listen to what you'll say now" she enunciates as a sigh escapes from his lips. "I'll say the truth – nothing but the truth," he promises as she agrees. "Of course" she replies as he leans a little forward, his lips barely touching her ears.

"His majesty, King Viserys and Lord Otto – they seek to replace you. They favor your brother, Prince Aegon. I – I tried to convince them, but they would not listen to me" he announces as her frown deepens. Her doubts were correct! Her father did not love her anymore, he favors his son with the broody queen.

She gasps as her eyes began to form beads of tears. "What do you mean?" she queried as he wipes a tear away. "It is not yet written in stone, my princess. There are other ways to make sure that your father doesn't remove you as heir" he confirms as she chuckles bitterly.

"It's not like we could kill my brother, Ser Alvaro." she rolls her eyes as she slumps against the wooden chair. He pauses and she raises an eyebrow. "That is exactly what we should do!"

---

Alvaro enjoyed tainting the princess – teaching her magic far beyond the comprehension of this world. She was a wonderful pupil, dedicated and obedient. He enjoyed teaching her.

Ser Alvaro lusted over her – imagining her porcelain skin and her ivy complexion writhing underneath his warm body. But she wasn't an easy catch, every step came with defiance – but now he knew that he could trust her – heck he could love her now.

He traces his hands on her naked skin, carefully counting the days until he could have what he wants. "Ser Alvaro" she breaks him free of his thoughts as he turns to look at her.

His eyes – entranced by her feverish purple eyes. "Yes, my princess" he whispers – the taste of her, yet to leave his mouth. She smiles, and traces circles on his unclothed chest. "My father tells me that you and my uncle will fight in the tourney. And I wonder who I shall give my favor to" she ponders as he chuckles loudly.

After all this time, the princess should know, who her favor belonged to. "My princess, you offend me greatly" he jokes as he closes his eyes in mock hurt. She presses a kiss on his cheeks, giggling at his childishness. "I was jesting, my knight" she retorts – closing her eyes in tiredness.

She yawns, "Do you really think that killing my brother is the right thing to do?" she asks him and he hums in return. Well – it wasn't the right thing to do, but it would benefit Ser Alvaro – which made it the best thing to do.

"Yes – it is the only way"

---

Daemon's eye searches the red keep for any signs of his beloved niece. Confusion befalling his face as he realizes who she was standing with. It was Ser Alvaro – previously of the gold cloaks until he was banished for dipping into dark magic – blood magic.

He grabs her arms, and her body turns sharply towards him. "Uncle" she mutters in confusion as Daemon glares at her knight. "Prince Daemon" Alvaro smirks as the prince glares at him further. "May I speak to the princess alone?" he requests as Y/N dismisses her knight.

"Is everything alright?" she asks as Daemon's frown deepens. A million thoughts ran through his head – how long has Ser Alvaro been in The Princess' service? What was the man plotting?

"Who was that?" he interrogates as she looks at the knight's direction. "He is my sworn sword" she explains as a chuckle escapes from his lips. He had just escape war, he didn't realize he'd be coming back home to it.

His eyes darkened as she frowns in return. "And I assume that your father appointed him! That idiot" he rambled off as she places a hand on both of his shoulders. She couldn't understand why he was acting so panicked, when Ser Alvaro was an ally.

"Yes? And what of it?" she questions as he groans, "What has he done to you? Does he hurt you?" he interrogates placing a hand on her chin and inspecting her face deeply.

She shoves his hands away. She felt offended by his notion – she loved Ser Alvaro and he would never do anything to hurt her. "Uncle – I apologize but I cannot understand what you're doing. And perhaps I should not be telling you this, but what me and Ser Alvaro have is different. He cares for me –" she remarks but was quickly shut down by Daemon.

"Cares for you?" he defenses as she nods. "Yes – and he's the only one whose been in a while" she adds while walking away. He pulls her back and corners her on the wall.

"He has preyed on your vulnerability – I warn you now, my princess. He has done the darkest of all magics and he will stop at nothing to have what he desires" he yells as a strange realization befalls upon her.

A few months ago, rumors were spread around court about Queen Alicent and Ser Alvaro. They said that they both had an affair and that the child The Queen was pregnant with was sired by him. That was around the time – Ser Alvaro placed a seed of doubt in Y/N's head.

If Prince Aegon died – and presume that Y/N would be caught red handed. The Queen's child – one that was allegedly sired by Ser Alvaro would become heir.

She gasps and places a hand on her mouth. "Oh no"

pt. 2

A/N: Was really playing around the idea of dark magic, Part 2??

[aish-rai]

Daenerys Targaryen was not the “Mad Queen”. And probably never will be.

The saying “Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin” is used to explain away every Targaryen misdeed or heroic act. The assumption is that, after centuries of inbreeding, “madness” (an incredibly vague term that really does nothing to describe someone’s mental state and therefore makes it difficult to distinguish between insanity and greatness) is inherited genetically. There’s no proof that this is true for the Targaryens, and especially not for Dany.

The northerners have their wargs, yet no one would call them insane for claiming they can take over someone or something else’s body. The Targaryens have their own kind of magic: dragon dreams. Dragon dreams are premonition-like dreams that often involve dragons, but not always. Like all prophecies, these dreams are not simple to interpret. Aerion Targaryen drank wildfire believing it would turn him into a dragon: clearly madness, right? Except that it was dragon dreams that led to Dany walking into the fire, leading to the hatching of her three dragons. If she had burnt to a crisp, they would have called her mad, but because she correctly interpreted her dragon dreams, she becomes the Mother of Dragons. Madness, it seems, all depends on the outcome of taking a risk.

In ASOIAF, it’s clearly Cersei who is the “Mad” Queen. Her behavior is partially a result of her circumstances and the abuses she’s endured, yes, but she was never of sound mental health. She murders her best friend as a child out of jealousy/a perceived threat to her relationship with Jaime. She loves Jaime and her children only insofar as they are an extension of herself. The irony is that, in rebelling against the Mad King, the realm still ends up with a Mad Queen in power, one with a lifelong history of sociopathic tendencies and even an obsession with wildfire. She enjoys hurting people, does not recognize the interior lives of others, and is unrepentant.

So that brings us back to Dany. Dany shows no signs of mental illness. She’s a good person who spent her childhood being abused by her brother and chased by assassins, only to be sold to a warlord and raped nightly. Her only defense is to adapt to her situation and find ways to gain the upper hand. She can behave ruthlessly, but she agonizes over every decision and despairs at harming innocents. When we leave her in the books, it seems she understands that she cannot go on compromising, and that innocents will have to die in order for her to achieve her goals. Innocents are ALREADY dying. Westeros is at war. She believes that if she joins the fray, she has the power to bring peace. Here’s where it gets tricky, because we’ve run out of books, so in order to justify her turn as the “Mad Queen” we have to go back and completely reframe her actions and intentions throughout the show. “She’s killed thousands of people!” Well, yes, she’s killed rapists and murderers. Ned Stark, arguably the most honorable character in the series, enters the story by decapitating a scared deserter of the Night’s Watch. Jon hangs a literal child. Tyrion, who is SO opposed to dragonfire at the end of the series, had no qualms about blowing up the Baratheon army with wildfire during the Battle of the Blackwater. Arya literally baked potentially innocent men into a pie and fed it to their father. Killing people has never been an issue in this series; but of ALL the characters, Daenerys seems the most justified in her actions, because the people she shows mercy to are the oppressed and those at the receiving end of her wrath are irredeemably bad people. You can argue she makes these choices to be loved, and perhaps that’s true, but her actions often go against her own best interests. Staying in Meereen to rule does nothing to benefit her. Helping the North, who pays her absolute dust for saving their asses, does not benefit her either; she could have stayed on Dragonstone. But she agreed to help WITHOUT Jon kneeling to her, which came later. She consistently makes decisions to help others that only hurt her cause. She listens to advisors who give her shit advice, and then conspire behind her back which makes her rightfully angry. The idea that she was always a horrible tyrant has no contextual backing, or at least, no more so than it does for any other character.

So here’s the crux of the argument: Dany is not mad. She’s not mentally ill, she’s not completely irrational, she’s not paranoid (her instances of supposed paranoia ALL turn out to be justified). The more interesting conversation here is, How much loss and pain can a good person withstand before they crack? She loses two of her children, her closest advisor, her best friend, and her lover, and for what? To save a people who hate her for no reason. What are you even fighting for at that point? When do you finally say, Okay, I’ll give you a fucking reason to hate me? That’s not mental illness, that’s humanity.

We can all agree the last season is shit, but my point in writing this is that it does a HUGE disservice to these characters to chalk every bad or even morally grey act up to mental illness, something they’ve inherited and can’t escape. Without dragon dreams, would Aerion Targaryen have gone mad and died for it? Without a long imprisonment at Duskendale and then Varys in his ear fueling his paranoia, would the Mad King have gone mad at all, or even just to the extent that he did? Guess we’ll never know. And if Dany hadn’t lost literally everything she cared about after clawing her way out of her chains, would she have snapped? No reason to think so. Instead of arguing over whether someone was destined for madness, it’s so much more interesting to explore what grief, loss, abuse, and isolation can do to a person.

Also, it’s awfully convenient to call an ambitious woman crazy. Then you don’t have to think about any of these things, you can just chalk it up to genetics and emotional instability and do no critical thinking whatsoever. That way, I guess you can feel better about taking them out back and putting them down like Old Yeller.

Soooo my question is, what type of mental illness did Dany suffer from? Can anyone be any more specific? Or is this sometimes the price we pay for what we put others through until they can no longer play by the rules of society? Because THEN we can talk about the men in ASOIAF/GOT purposely destabilizing the women and then insisting they’re not fit to rule. Kind of like real life.