#AEMOND WOULD LIVE AND DIE FOR HIS BROTHER THAT'S CANON THAT'S THE ONLY ACCEPTABLE CANON!!!!!! 🗣🗣🗣

[gojuo]

aegond dynamic if hotd writers aren't fucking PUSSIES

[anjelicawrites]

The winner takes it all

Chapter I

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Synopsis: inspired by the Æthelflæd and Erik's storyline in The Last Kingdom. Might be spoilerish if you haven't seen it (go watch it!!!), even though I've just stolen the inspiration and went on with the story my way.

Warnings: Canon compliant violence, kidnapping, reference to Aemond’s brothel experience.

A/N: reader is AFAB, they/them pronouns are used (they are called “lady” and “daughter of the North”). The only descriptor is that they have long hair

A/N 1: this is an AU. Look at me taking the canon story of Westeros and yell “Parkhour!” as I jump out of the window clutching it in my hands.

18+ only, tank you!

The story of how you found yourself in your current predicament is quite easy, almost laughable in its simplicity.

When the Valyrian troops had mobilized and marched North, your foolish husband had forced you to accompany him during the war, leaving you an easy prey for the Targaryen brothers, who had invaded the camp, while the men were trying to conquer a city that was left empty on purpose.

You had tried to flee and hide and when that didn't work, you had fought for your freedom, to no avail, Prince Aemond was a far too skilled swordsman, compared to you. Still, you had confronted him: you were a daughter of the North, if your people weren’t giving up, you weren’t, either!

He had stared at you with a surprisingly soft eye in contrast with the definitive, yet gentle, way he had told you that a fight would be of no use, yet you had refused to lower your weapon, your hand trembling around the hilt notwithstanding: you were going to try and conquest your freedom, or die, if necessary.

His men had laughed and he had hushed them with a cold stare

"As you wish" he had said, drawing his sword.

You had known you had not a chance by seeing the fluidity of his movements, but you weren't going to go down without a fight. As you had tried to get the upper hand, you had realized he was humoring you, letting you play, like a cat would with a mouse, until you had fallen on your back, your sword too far away for you to recover. You had lain there, waiting for death to approach and he had surprised you by grabbing your wrist to force you on your feet, his left hand tight around the nape of your neck, you frozen in fear as you had seen the cruel smiles of the men surrounding you

"They are precious - Prince Aemond had said calmly - they are our greatest bounty" and the pieces had fallen in front of your face.

Even though running away was pointless, you had tried to elbow him in the stomach and he had just pulled your trashing body over his shoulder, a firm hand to keep you there, as he had walked towards his brother and their army.

You had heard the dragons before you truly saw them, their powerful breathing and movements rocking the earth.

Prince Aemond had stopped and gracefully removed your body from his shoulder, a firm hand around your arm to keep you from going anywhere, but it was not needed, the vision of the powerful beasts had froze both your mind and body: you couldn't believe the dragoness Vhagar could be so massive. You've heard stories, who hadn't, but the reality was another thing, your eyes couldn’t compute and your brain couldn’t accept that a creature this big was capable of living and breathing in front of you. Why did the Gods old and new allow for such a creature to exist?

Using your shock against you, Prince Aemond had forced you to move, until you were at Vhagar’s side and there you had stayed, rooted, incapable of hearing what the Prince was telling you to do. It was strangers' arms that had forced you up the beast's massive body and it was Prince Aemond who had chained you to the saddle, you were too dumbfounded to do or say anything.

It was when Vhagar had moved to fly, that you had started screaming and thrashing, forcing Aemond to curl one arm around your body; you were going nowhere.

The feeling of Vhagar soaring into the sky had pushed your stomach up to your throat and you had to physically force yourself not to throw up, sitting still, eyes closed in terror as the beast flew vertically upward.

"Don't be afraid - Prince Aemond had told you calmly the moment Vhagar was horizontal again - these chains are Valyrian steel, you will not fall".

You could only answer with a litany of scared noes, shaming yourself and your House, earning a joyless chuckle from your captor.

"You saddled for two" you had said after what felt like hours, eyes still closed in fear, mind calmer

"Of course"

"You planned this, all of this"

"We lost a city but, thanks to you, we will conquer the whole of the North".

You had tried to dislodge his arm from around your waist and he had let you, but where could you go?

You had noticed how gently Vhagar was flying. She, or better her rider, had seemed keen on trying to make the journey less of a trauma as they could, keeping a sure course and going slow, Vhagar using the currents of wind to keep herself afloat, instead of her massive wings. You had dared open your eyes again and had focused on her scales, unexpectedly warm under your fingers, not trusting yourself to stare anywhere else, too afraid of your reaction, preferring to lose yourself in your thoughts.

Aemond's voice in your ear makes you jump out of your jumbled memories

"We are going to land. Vhagar will be as gentle as possible - he stops for a moment and hums softly - don't be afraid".

He follows with something in what you believe is High Valyrian and Vhagar starts flying downwards, slowly getting to the ground, where many people are waiting for your arrival.

It isn't casual that the brothers have you walk through the mob, you know they are parading you around as a trophy, showing their people who they have kidnapped. There are hands everywhere, trying to touch you and pulling at your dress with ferocity, as if they want to tear it from your body, to the point that Prince Aemond has to use his men to shield you from the brunt of it, until you enter a big building and are instructed to go down a flight of stairs.

You face a big wooden door that one of your captors opens before forcing you inside

"You have a cot, a table and a bucket. Someone will bring you food and ale".

You turn around to face Prince Aemond

"Do you expect a heartfelt thank you?"

One of the men, a brute with mismatched eyes walks towards you with a purpose and you stand your ground. You are scared, Gods so scared, but you are not going to show it to these men. You are their captive and it’s going to become everyone’s problem.

"I've heard of the courage of the children of the North. Those of you who don't know how to use a sword know how to die on it. It can't be said of many - Prince Aemond pins you with his lonely eye and you find yourself unable to to look away, mesmerized by the lilac hue - they are precious and not to be hurt" he reminds his men

"They showed you disrespect, Your Grace" the brute says, frozen on the spot by his prince’s words

"And what can the disrespect of a dove do to a dragon?"

With that you are left alone in your cell with your heavy thoughts, your body still high on adrenaline and rage seems incapable of staying still. You pace around your small cell, actually trying to gauge the door for signs of rot or any sort of weakness, finding nothing; checking the thick walls surrounding you proves to be equally useless, none of the bricks moves, there’s no mud nor signs of humidity to show you a way out of here. Desperate you use the bucket to prop yourself up a bit to look out the small, rectangular window, the only source of light. With effort and standing on your toes, you grab the bars and try to look outside, needing to see if there’s still some servant capable of helping you, but your sight is met by an outstanding number of silver-headed people.

Everywhere your eyes land, you see Valyrians and no Northerner, your mind flying to the rumors of Targaryens using blood magic to multiply the numbers of their people, in order to make the conquered Kingdoms their New Valyria.

You land back on the floor and start looking for a way out again, methodically trying every nook and cranny of your prison, searching for a secret passage, with no luck, hoping against all you know about this castle. Even the door is solid and study oak wood, the hinges are new and shiny, freshly made to imprison you.

This is the moment you break down, you huddle yourself into the farthest corner of the room and start crying, your face pressed against your bent legs; you long for your father’s strong embrace and your mother’s soothing words. How you wish you could go back to when you were a young child and the world was full of wonder.

You feel so alone.

A couple of floors above you, Aemond is polishing his armor. He has no taste nor interest for the feast his brother is leading for the army or to rape the women taken captive from the camp; his body shudders with disgust at the idea of violating another human being, knowing too well what it feels like. No, he orders himself, we are not going down that route, the dragon garnishes look filthy with blood and mud. Mother would be ashamed to see me parade around looking like that. His hands grab the chest piece with too much force, he folds his long back to look closely at the etched metal, trying to think of the best way to clean the intricate design and he sees where one of your hits has actually left a dent. His finger touches it absentmindedly while his brain goes back to your fight, rewinding it to analyze it: you are rusty but you have been trained, probably since you were young, given how you had managed to work around your weak spots and how fast you were on your legs, even after being chased in the woods. Given the proper training, maybe under someone like him, you’d go back to your former glory. All right, his hand stops caressing the denting, what is going on here? You are bounty, a means to an end. Yes, you are beautiful, even covered in filth and looking so different from what he’s used to, but you are a prisoner, worth your weight in gold and silver, nothing more. You’ll be used to extort all the money possible and then sent back to your husband. If you’re lucky, after the conquest, you will be married to a nobleman loyal to him and Aegon, to fortify the union between the North and New Valyria; again means to a bigger end and nothing more, still, the fear and courage he saw in your eyes, the way you didn’t back down until you saw Vhagar, intrigues him. Even on Vhagar, after your initial terror, you held yourself with a strength he has rarely seen in non dragonriders. Your husband is a lucky man, he thinks and hopes he cherishes you, because you are worth every praise.

Everythig taglist: @hightowhxre

Aemond taglist: @phantoms-main-blog

[jimblejamblewritings]

The Dragon Heir | part 9.

Summary: What happens when King Viserys' only current heir is a choice between his twin daughters? The realm will not accept a woman but you have no care for what the realm thinks it won't accept.

Warnings: it's the game of thrones realm, and obviously incest comes with the Targaryen package but it still deserves a second warning. extra warnings because they are needed for this part — child death and violence.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x black!reader, Daemon Targaryen x targaryen!reader

Word Count: 6.6k

A/N: Y'all I'm sorry for this one. It took me forever because I couldn't decide if I was going to follow canon of killing children when lucerys confronts Aemond or let the kids live. I'm so sorry for what y'all are going to read.

Previous Part | Series Masterlist

You adjusted the leather bag on your shoulder, lowering it so the twins could set down the plants they helped collect. Naelyra and Viserys were with you while Aerys was playing with his sisters and uncles. 

All of the herbs on Dragonstone were finally collected, including the seeds so you could plant more. The supply was enough to last at least four months. By then the new seeds should have hopefully sprouted so you could keep giving your father medicine that wasn’t milk of the poppy.

You came back into the castle to see your other children run by you as you entered the main hall. Your youngest nephews stopped for a second longer than saying hello. 

“Daemon is making us pack.” 

“Good, you better hurry. Your brother has the right idea. The quicker you pack, the quicker you can go back to whatever you were doing.” 

Lucerys and Joffrey groaned but continued heading to their rooms. Naelyra and Viserys tried to avoid your eyes so they wouldn’t have to pack either. It didn’t work for very long. You continued into the main hall. Daemon and Rhaenyra looked over at you when you set down your bag on the table. A big sigh escaped you. 

“It might have taken some time but I’ve collected every herb. No more milk of the poppy for Father. My Joy, do you mind taking me tomorrow on dragon back? I’d like to head back to King’s Landing as quickly as possible.” 

“That isn’t a problem.”

You looked at your sister. “Are you coming with us or staying until everyone is packed?” 

“Someone has to watch our little mongrels. I’ll make sure we don’t take too long.”

Daemon made his way around the large table in the middle of the room. You could already see his hands reaching for you. His hands went to your waist at the same time that your hands went to his shoulder. Daemon kissed your cheek before kissing your mouth. He kept leaning over until you were bending a little. Looking at your lips and then your eyes, he gave you a smile. 

“I know we’ve discussed it but I’ve been dreaming about our children lately. Would one more be all that bad?” 

You laughed and gently pushed him. “Absolutely not. Are you not happy with the amount of children you have?” 

Daemon pecked your lips as he helped you stand back up. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with more but I’m not the one giving birth.” 

“I’m glad you understand that because I have a surprise for y—” 

The three of you turned when Ser Lorent came down the stairs. Rhaenyra’s heart raced a bit when he said that Princess Rhaenys was at Dragonstone. You told the knight to let her in while you tried to calm your sister. Rhaenys either brought news that Laenor and Corlys had survived or they succumbed to their injuries and illness. You hoped it was only good news. Worry graced your features when Rhaenys entered the room. She wasn’t smiling. 

“Are Laenor and Lord Corlys alright?” Rhaenyra asked. 

Rhaenys took in a breath. “Viserys is dead.” 

You, your husband, and your sister froze. Rhaenys moved closer to the table. 

“I grieve the loss with you. He was a good man with a kind heart… There is more. They crowned Aegon as his successor.” 

Daemon stood up straighter. “How did Viserys die?” 

“I could not say. No one seems to know.” 

“How long ago did he pass?” Rhaenyra asked.

“A day or two? I was locked in my chambers while they prepared for the coronation. It must have happened shortly after you left, they crowned Aegon yesterday.” 

“Then he’s been slain,” Daemon said with certainty. 

Rhaenyra looked over when you walked away from the table. Your face twisted up in pain. You took steps towards the fireplace, unable to do anything but just stare into the fire. Rhaenyra kept watching you as she asked her next question. 

“They asked you to declare for Aegon?” Your sister’s head turned around when Rhaenys told her yes. 

“I didn’t. I refused.” 

Daemon’s jaw clenched before relaxing. “And yet you’re still alive.” 

You slowly turned as you listened to her speak about the coronation. They had crowned Aegon in the Dragonpit, giving Rhaenys access to her dragon and a chance to escape. Your eyes drifted over to the bag of herbs you had finished collecting that morning still on the table. 

“They crowned him before the masses?” Rhaenyra asked. 

“So the masses would recognize him as their rightful king.”  

“That whore of a queen murdered my brother and stole his throne,” Daemon said lowly. “And you could have burned them all for it.” 

“A war is likely to be fought over this treachery. But that war is not mine to begin. I only rushed this warning to you out of loyalty to my husband and my House. The Greens are coming for you and for your children… Is something funny, Laelara?” 

You just grabbed the bag of now-useless herbs from off the table. “Your House? Princess Rhaenys, this is your House too. Laenor’s sons are my nephews. Laena’s daughters take my husband’s family name. The name you were born with, Rhaenys. My name.” 

“Don’t insult me, Laelar—” 

“Queen Laelara. If you do not want to accept this House as your own then you do not earn the respect of calling me as if we are family. It is Queen Laelara or Y—”

“Mother!” Rhaena and Baela yelled as they came running down the stairs. 

“Yes, my sweetlings?” you asked as you gave a pointed look to Rhaenys. 

“The guards caught a man outside… wearing a Kingsguard uniform.” 

You and Daemon wasted no time going outside, the others following behind. Soon most of the castle, the few people that actually lived there, were outside. Your guards were holding a man with long brown hair. He was kneeling on the ground. His helmet and sword were now in the dirt at your feet. The man looked up at you. 

“I mean no harm.” 

“Let him go for a moment,” you commanded your guards. 

The man opened a bag that had been around him the entire time. You gasped at the sight of your father’s crown. The man, who finally gave his name as Erryk Cargyll, held it up. Daemon gently took it from him, just looking at it. 

“I swear to ward the Queen with all my strength and give my blood for hers. I shall take no wife, sire no heirs and hold no lands. I shall guard her secrets, obey her commands, ride at her side, and defend her name and honor.” 

Daemon turned around slowly, looking at you the entire time. The crown was set on your head before your husband kneeled. The sound of movement behind you made you look. Everyone was kneeling. You almost laughed at your own children who were surely too young to actually know what they were doing.

You made eye contact with Rhaenys who was staring at the entire scene in front of her, mainly at her granddaughters also kneeling. Slowly, she kneeled as well. You held a hand out to your husband. Daemon looked up as he took your hand in his. 

“You know war better than I do. I don’t want us to fight. Is that possible?” you asked.  

“If we have the right allies.”

~~

The large table in the middle of the main hall was a map. The entirety of Westeros. Candles were lit and shoved into a drawer underneath the table, lighting the entire thing up. Swords were laid on a table at the door as more men came in. All of the castle stood in the hall, even the ones who didn’t fight. They waited for you to come in. Daemon stopped fiddling with the pieces on the table when you entered. 

“Queen Laelara Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Your Grace,” he said with a bow of his head. 

You moved to stand between you and Rhaenyra’s children, denying the cup of wine Baela offered you. Your eyes scanned over the table before looking up at your husband directly across from you at the other head of the table. 

“Our current standing?” 

“We have thirty knights, a hundred crossbowmen, and three hundred men-at-arms.” 

“Not nearly enough.” 

“Dragonstone is easy to defend. It wasn’t built for conquest. We have sent word to my men in the City Watch.” 

“How many are loyal to you?” 

“I cannot speak of the numbers. We should prepare for the smallest number.” 

One of the maesters spoke up. “But we already have declarations from Celtigar and Staunton. As well as Massey, Darklyn, Bar Emmon.” 

Jace and Viserys moved Targaryen pieces to the lands where the Houses the maester said had lived. You pointed to where so your son could put one on the Vale. 

“Our lady mother was an Arryn. The Royces may hate Daemon but the Vale is loyal to family. At worst, they won’t help fight. But they will not turn against us.” 

The maester nodded. “Riverrun was always close to your father, Your Grace. With Prince Daemon’s acquiescence, I sent ravens to Lord Grover.” 

You stopped Viserys from putting a piece down on the Riverrun. “He is a man easily swayed. I don’t want to consider him a surety and be surprised by betrayal later. Unless we can convince him of the strength of our position.” 

“I’m going to meet him personally,” Daemon said. 

“What of Winterfell?” one of the guards asked. “There’s never been a Stark who has forgotten an oath. And the Baratheons.” 

“Borros Baratheon will need to be reminded of his oaths. He was always reluctant to bend the knee to a woman.” 

One of the guards placed a Hightower piece over the Baratheons for good measure. You sighed. 

“This still isn’t enough… Our enemies?” 

No one was surprised at the mention of the Lannisters. Your list of enemies was less than expected but they had huge armies. The head of your Queensguard coughed. 

“If I may speak candidly, Your Grace, your side has a power the world hasn’t seen since Valyria.” 

“The Greens have dragons as well. Four of them.” 

“But you have Vhagar.” 

“And Aemond has her spawn who is undoubtedly bigger or nearing that size. And Vhagar is old. We should expect her to die at any moment.” 

“They have four but we have Syrax, Caraxes, Meleys, and Vhagar. Vhagar is the only war dragon still alive,” Daemon started. “Not to mention the ones belonging to the children. Vermax, Arrax, Tyraxes, Moondancer, Sunfyre, Goldtear, and Valor. If Laenor is recovered enough, we have Seasmoke.” 

“Tyraxes, Sunfyre, Goldtear, and Valor all belong to children under ten. They more than likely won’t fly without their riders and those four won’t be fighting.” 

“We also have the unclaimed ones. They’re all here on Dragonstone. Vermithor and Silverwing dwell on the Dragonmont, still riderless. You haven’t claimed a dragon, Your Grace. And not to mention the three wild ones. Grey Ghost, Sheepstealer, and the Cannibal.” 

“The Cannibal?”

“He eats other dragons, there is nothing better than that.”

“And who is going to ride these creatures?”  

“No one needs to ride them. Even without the children’s four dragons, we have fourteen to their four.” 

“Thirteen. There would be thirteen dragons to their four.” 

“Fourteen,” Daemon insisted. “Unless one of Alicent’s children can suddenly survive fire unburnt, you are the only Dragon alive. We don’t need riders to claim them, you just have to call them to attention.” 

You motioned to the table. “Fine. But I don’t want to rely on dragons we aren’t certain of. I want to continue planning without them. Right now we have Caraxes, Syrax, Meleys, Vermax, and Vhagar.” 

He nodded. “Five dragons. We still need a toehold large enough to house a sizable host.” 

You smiled slightly when he tilted his head, basically asking you if he could go on. He was careful not to overstep. But you didn’t plan wars or battles. Your father had lived in a time of peace where he sent Daemon for small tasks that you never really learned about strategy. 

“Do continue, King Daemon,” you said in High Valyrian. 

(Rāelagon ȳdrās, Dārys Daemon.)

His mouth opened slightly before he recovered. “Right, yes. I believe Harrenhal is where we should gather. Here, we can cut off the west and surround King’s Landing with dragons. Even with five, the threat is strong. We could have every Green head mounted on spikes before the fucking moon turns.” 

Ser Erryk approached, tapping your shoulders. “Your Grace, they’ve spotted a single ship offshore, carrying the banner of a three-headed green dragon.” 

Daemon immediately moved to grab his sword that was leaning against the table. “Alert the watchtowers. Take the children, Princess Rhaenyra, and Princess Rhaenys towards the Dragonmont.” 

“I’m coming with you.” 

You grabbed your sister’s arm before she could keep going. “If this is an attack, one of us needs to live another day. If nothing, for our children.” 

Rhaenyra’s jaw ticked but she reluctantly agreed, going the other way while you and Daemon went outside. The two of you whispered back and forth with each other.

The guards were just a few steps ahead as they led you to the stone bridge that was the entrance to Dragonstone. You could see Otto Hightower in front of a bunch of Kingsguard men. He stood proudly. 

“I come at the behest of the Dowager Queen Alicent, mother of King Aegon, second of his nam—” 

“Spare me the names, Lord Otto. I understand what the title of usurper means.” 

Otto ignored your comment. “I have been sent to deliver a message for Princess Laelara only.” 

“It is Queen Laelara and if you can’t truly believe I am stupid enough to be alone with you and your guards. You can say whatever you need in front of my men or hand me something written and be on your way.” 

“King Aeg—” 

Otto stopped when a large roar pierced everyone’s ears. A blood red creature flew through the sky. Caraxes’ long neck was seen first before the rest of his body. He landed on the other side of the bridge, effectively sandwiching Otto and his men in between you guys. The man swallowed as he stared at the dragon before turning back to you. Daemon clicked his tongue and Caraxes settled. You pursed your lips. 

“You were saying something, Lord Otto?” 

“King Aegon in his wisdom and desire for peace is offering terms. Acknowledge Aegon as the proper king and swear obeisance before the Iron Throne. In exchange, His Grace will keep your possession of Dragonstone to you and your children. Driftmark is still the possession of your nephew and first daughter. 

“Your youngest children from you and your sister will be given place at the King’s court. The King’s squire and cupbearer. And finally, in his good grace, will pardon any knight or lord who conspired against his ascent.” 

“Yet you have conspired against mine despite bending the knee all those years ago.” 

“These are very generous terms, Princ—”

“Your Grace,” Daemon cut him off. “And I would rather feed my children to the dragons than have them carry cups and shields for your drunken, usurper cunt of a king.” 

“Aegon Targaryen sits the Iron Throne. He wears the Conqueror’s crown, wields the Conqueror’s sword, has the Conqueror’s name. Every symbol of legitimacy belongs to him.” 

You marched up to Otto and looked him in the eye. “You’re right. He wears the Conqueror’s crown and carries the Conqueror’s sword and even bears the Conqueror’s name. But what is my entire name, Lord Otto? I will allow you to speak informally this time.” 

“Laelara Aegon Daeny Visenya Targaryen.” 

“I bear the Conqueror’s name too. I claimed the dragon used by the Conqueror’s sister-wife, Visenya, when they first came to Westeros. A woman who Aegon respected and named a conqueror herself as she ruled with him.” 

Otto swallowed when you pulled out your sword and pressed it against the side of his neck. You simply laughed when his guards pulled out their own swords but weren’t sure whether to move or not. 

“A woman whose name I also bear and whose sword I have wielded since before my brother was even a thought in your seedy, conniving mind.” 

“Aegon was crowned by a septon of the Faith and named in front of a crowd of thousands.” 

“Then why are you here?” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“If he was named in front of thousands then certainly all of King’s Landing must believe in him and not me? Surely you and your men would have stormed Dragonstone and have us arrested or killed. So why haven’t you?” 

“Because Aegon is a kind king.” 

“No. Because Aegon is no conqueror. How dare you come to me with these terms? I want better. Tell the king that.” You sheathed your sword and walked away. 

“Does that mean you are accepting?” 

“I want better terms. Do not make me wait, send a raven in three days time with more than just a cupbearer for my children.” 

“Yes, Princess.”  

The men sheathed their swords. Otto watched Daemon grab your arm tightly. His jaw ticked as he glared at you. Otto couldn’t make out what your husband whispered in your ear. You yanked your arm from his grip. 

“You swore allegiance to me and my decisions and you should do well to remember that.” 

“Your decisions,” Daemon said just loud enough for Otto to hear. “They mean giving up. Do you truly believe Aegon will stay by his promises? I would never trust that if I was Viserys’ successor.” 

“Then it is a good thing you were never even a consideration for heir.” 

(Sepār, ao dōrī īlē iderennon hen dārilaros sȳz issa.)

“You cannot bend your knee to the Hightowers. They’ve stolen your birthright from under you. Are you not angry?” 

(Va Hightowers obūljās daor. Jevon siñondrīvo gūrossi. Daor Vēdros?)

“Of course I am. Does that mean I should declare war because I’m angry? That isn’t Viserys’ dream.” You gasped when Daemon smacked you across the cheek. The guards grabbed him immediately. 

(Kessa! Hen vēdros eman nyke sytilīban idakon? Viserys' ēdrurys issa daor.)

“My brother was obsessed and blinded with his dreams and prophecies. Anything to make his reign not seem fruitless. Dreams didn’t make us kings.” 

“If you touch me again, it will be the last thing you ever do. Do you understand me?” You turned and looked at Otto, trying not to cry. “I expect the raven in three days.” 

“Princess, are you alr—” 

“Three days.” 

You walked away, the guards behind you carrying Daemon back to the castle. The doors to the castle were closed and a scout watched from the watchtower to make sure the Hightowers went home with all their men. Daemon was let go of by the guards. He immediately stood up and held the side of your face, examining one side of it. 

“My Fire, are you alright? I didn’t hit you too hard, did I?” 

“Do you think he believed it?” 

“I think he will report it back to their council. If that bought us time, I’m unsure. I’ll tell the Queensguard to summon everyone for the meeting. Please find one of the maesters for your cheek.” 

“I am fine, My Joy. You were very careful.” 

Daemon peppered kisses all over half of your face. You pulled away from him slightly. He watched your face intently. You knew with war that you couldn’t keep secrets to yourself anymore. Aegon the Conqueror’s dream of ice and fire needed to be shared. Daemon squeezed your shoulders slightly. 

“We cannot worry about that right now. But I promise we will figure it out once this war is over. We won’t be unprepared for whatever ice and fire is bringing.”  

You nodded. Just to ease his mind, you went to find the maester before coming back to the table for the meeting. You sat in a chair at the head of the table, listening with great annoyance at the men arguing about what to do. You beckoned one of the attendants over. 

“Where are my eldests?” 

“Princess Rhaenys asked to see them.” 

“And where is the princess?” 

“She has been tending to her husband and son ever since the news of their fevers breaking, Your Grace.” 

Ser Erryk stood to attention. 

“The Lord of the Tides, Lord Corlys Valeryon. His wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, and their son, Ser Laenor!” he called out.  

Everyone turned. Rhaenyra ran to hug Laenor, you followed close behind. The two of them embraced before pulling away. Laenor bowed his head to you. 

“Your Grace.” 

“Oh, come off it, Laenor,” you said as you pulled your cousin into a hug. “We’ve known each other since birth. I’m happy you’re alright.” 

“Your Grace,” Lord Corlys said with a slight bow. 

“Lord Corlys. Or should I say Hand of the Queen,” you said with a smile. 

His eyes widened for a brief moment before bowing his head once again. He extended an arm towards the table and you nodded as you all made your way back to the center of the hall. Lord Corlys looked around. 

He walked around the table. “These are your declared allies? Too few to win a war for the throne.” 

“We are also looking at support from House Arryn, Baratheon, and Stark. Arryn is my mother’s House. Even if they don’t fight, we know they are not enemies.” 

“Looking for support isn’t guaranteed support. Your father’s realm was one of justice and honor. The Hightower’s treason is not allowed to stand any longer. You have the full support of the Velaryon fleet and house.” 

You and Daemon stopped looking at the table to look at the man. Lord Coryls grabbed a Targaryen wooden piece and placed it over Driftmark. He knocked on the table twice. 

“I have heard you do not wish to fight.” 

You shook your head. “I don’t intend to strike, not first at least. If war can be avoided it should.” 

“You want to threaten?” 

“Ideally.” 

“Would control of the Stepstones aid in that desire?” Laenor asked.  

Your eyes went wide. When Laenor and Corlys were hurt in the Stepstones, everyone assumed they had lost. To have control of the Stepstones was a major feat. You basically owned the Narrow Sea. Lord Corlys was ready to deploy his fleet and take control of all the shipping lanes in Blackwater Bay.

All travel and trade could be stopped from reaching King’s Landing. The Hightowers wouldn’t be able to give the people what they needed. They could only get that from your family. Rhaenys agreed to patrol the gullet herself with her dragon and make sure the rules were enforced. It was almost the perfect siege. 

“We still need to surround the Greens and that requires more people. Even with all our dragons, the land is too vast and they only need to reach Shipbreaker Bay or further down to Dorne in order to evade us.” 

“My uncle has always been a supporter of mine,” Rhaenys said. “A letter to House Baratheon is all we need.” 

“I’ll prepare the ravens, Your Grace,” the maester said. 

“We should do it.” 

(Īlos sytilībi ūjus gaomi.)

You looked at your eldest nephew. Jacaerys shrugged before nodding his head with more confidence. 

“We should deliver the messages. You predicted only a couple of days before the Greens make their own allies and come back to us, Your Grace. That isn’t much time. On dragons, we’re faster… and more intimidating.” 

Rhaenyra leaned over. “They would be more convincing.” 

“Send us,” Baela said, adamantly. 

(īlōnda jikātās.)

“Alright,” you said reluctantly. “Where do we need to find allies?” 

“House Baratheon, House Stark, House Arryn are major,” one of the men said. “Dorne has always been the most distant kingdom but the aid of House Martell would be helpful. The Iron Islands are Stark bannermen but always hesitant to fight in a war they don’t deem their own, some persuasion there might be useful.” 

“The Greens have dragons and three riders,” Daemon said. 

You nodded. “Both of us are vying for House Baratheon. They’ll send Aegon to try and intimidate because he is their king. The Greens also need Winterfell.” 

“That means Aemond will be seeing the Starks.” 

“I want you, Rhaena, to go with Naelyra and Joffrey to Dorne. The Martells will appreciate the trust of letting them see our youngest children. Baela, you and Viserys are going to the Eyrie. House Arryn is family. They are safe for you two.” 

“Yes, Mother.” 

“Lucerys, I don’t want you anywhere near Aemond. You will deliver a message to Storm’s End.” 

Laenor walked over to his son, putting both hands on Lucerys’ shoulders and smiling at you. “Lord Baratheon has many daughters, none betrothed.” 

“Cousin, you are actually brilliant. Luke, you’re taking Aerys with you. Daemon, Rhaenyra, I’m asking you both to go to Riverrun.” 

“What about me?” Jacaerys asked. 

“Are you okay to go alone to Winterfell?” 

“I would love to.” 

“Then the matter is settled. But Jace, do not argue with Aemond if he is there before you. Your business is with Lord Stark only.”  

Jacaerys reluctantly agreed. The children went to saddle their dragons or add extra rider straps in the case of Lucerys and Aerys while you penned letters. Nothing made you more nervous than sending the children. They were messengers so you shouldn’t have worried but you couldn’t help yourself. 

While they got ready, Daemon left for the Dragonmont. He wanted to see about securing the unclaimed dragons and eventually tracking down the wild ones. The plan was to start with Vermithor and then move on to the others. 

The children came by to receive the letters from you. You hugged them all and gave them kisses on the forehead. You bent down to your Aerys’ level. 

“Be good to your cousin,” you said, giving him one more hug. 

Lucerys complained when you ruffled his hair and kept hugging him much to his annoyance. You laughed as you pushed him away. 

“Alright, go. I expect you back in the morning.” 

“We won’t be late!” 

Lucerys was glad you asked him to take Aerys and not Aerys’ dragon. It had started raining slightly and he honestly didn’t want to be responsible for watching another dragon. It was just easier if Aerys was with him and they both took Arrax. He hoped it would stop raining tomorrow. 

~~

Lucerys stopped, pulling Aerys’ hand back, when the doors of Storm End’s castle opened up. He didn’t see Aegon in the hall. It was Aemond. Lucerys tried not to look anymore as they entered. Maybe it would be fine. Aemond liked you. He called you Aunt Laelara even though you were his half-sister. 

His entire plan fell through when Lord Baratheon requested the guards escort him and Aerys back to Arrax for their safety. Aemond wanted to fight. But at least he gave Lord Baratheon the letter.

As they kept flying, Lucerys thought they might have secured an ally. It helped offering the young prince’s hand in marriage for an alliance. Lord Baratheon seemed pleased at the notion, stating he would think over all prospects given. 

Aerys screamed, making Lucerys look down. Far below Arrax was a massive dragon. Maemar. He tried to calm Aerys down as he soared higher. Arrax dipped through a small canyon that Maemar simply couldn’t go through. But the safety of the rocks didn’t last forever. Lucerys pushed his dragon to go higher and faster. 

Maemar couldn’t be shaked. The dragon snapped at Arrax, almost catching the smaller one’s tail in his mouth. Lucerys shook his head as he directed Arrax to go back into the cliffs. His eyes scanned the canyon side to see if there was a cave. The dragon landed in the first cave they could find. With shaky hands, Lucerys took Aerys down from the saddle. 

The younger boy hugged his cousin tightly, refusing to let go. Even when he fell asleep, Aerys was still holding on. Lucerys stayed up all night. His sword was out and pointed at the entrance of the cave in case Aemond decided to jump down from his dragon and come into the canyon. He thanked the heavens when the skies cleared in the morning. 

“What are you doing?” Aerys asked when Lucerys dug through the dragon’s saddlebag. 

He came back with some parchment and a fountain pen. “Aerys, you hold onto these. Hold on really strong. Okay? One’s for my mother and father, one is for your mother and father. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

Lucerys put the materials back in the bag. He picked Aerys up and carried the boy back to the saddle. He didn’t strap himself in, only gripping the front of the saddle tightly. Lucerys nodded when Arrax left the cave. He had a feeling that Aemond hadn’t left the other night. There was no avoiding his uncle. Aemond was already awake. He started to walk towards Maemar. 

“Wait!” Lucerys yelled. 

Aemond turned his head. 

Lucerys told Arrax to lower himself so he could jump down. He patted his dragon’s head. “Take Aerys home no matter what. Do you understand me, Arrax? Be calm and you will take Aerys home.” 

The dragon blinked at his rider but seemed like he understood. Lucerys nodded before turning to face Aemond. 

“You want my eye? You can have it, just leave Aerys alone.” 

“He doesn’t owe me payment. You do. I’m even granting you mercy. You get to choose which eye I will take.” 

Lucerys turned his head to one side, figuring he tended to look through field glasses with his left eye and taking the right would be better. Aemond whipped out his dagger.

The sound of metal scraping against its sheath caught Maemar’s attention. The dragon sensed its rider’s anger and spotted the weapon in Aemond’s hand. Maemar took the matter upon himself. A stream of fire left his mouth. Aemond stopped in his tracks, eye going wide. 

“Lucerys!” Aerys screamed. 

The fire subsided. Lucerys looked down at himself, shocked to still be alive. It was uncommon, even for Targaryen blood, to be a Dragon. It was even rarer to have two Dragons alive at the same time. Lucerys would have to tell you when he got back. But there were more pressing matters. Maemar opened his mouth again, gearing to blow another stream of fire. Lucerys began to run back to his dragon while Aemond ran to his own who looked like he was about to chase Arrax. 

“No. No, stop, Maemar, stop!” 

Lucerys felt the fire on his back. His heart started to race faster when Aerys screamed, fire reaching him and touching his skin. The older boy was barely on Arrax when he told the dragon to flee.

They had made it far through the skies without being followed. Lucerys tried to comfort Aerys whose skin was blistering and burning. Nothing gave the little boy relief. His eyes started to close a bit. 

“No, eyes open, Aerys, keep them open. Faster, Arrax!”  

~~

You waited on the beach with Daemon, concerned as the morning grew into afternoon. Lucerys and Aerys should have been home by now. They were the closest to Dragonstone. Rhaenyra and Daemon had made it back in the morning. Baela and Viserys came back only moments ago. Jace wasn’t expected until tomorrow, the same with Rhaena, Naelyra, and Joffrey. 

Rhaenyra and Laenor came out after making sure Baela and Viserys were inside the castle. The four of you tapped your feet on the sand and waited. Eventually, you all sat down and just watched the skies. It would be uncommon but there was always a chance that Lucerys chose to fly the other way and was on the other side of Dragonstone, slowly coming their way.

You shot up when you saw the shadow of a dragon in the clouds. Arrax landed, partially on the dry sand and partially where the water brushed past the very bottom of his legs. Lucerys unclipped himself and ungracefully slid off the dragon’s back. Running to him, you held his face in your hands. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered over and over again through tears. 

(Drējī usōven)

Lucerys unclipped Aerys from the saddle. Your scream made Rhaenyra, Daemon, and Laenor run. Daemon dropped to his knees, water soaking his clothes. Rhaenyra and Laenor stopped just short of being next to you, hands covering their mouths. Carefully, Lucerys set Aerys in Daemon’s arms before his mother and father pulled him closer to them. 

Daemon reached for your hand but you moved away. He didn’t react, only holding his son closer and staring at the ocean. You walked away. Your gait looked like you could have been drunk as you stumbled farther and farther away from the castle. Tears blinded your vision and sobs escaped you. Your feet felt heavy as you kept walking. You didn’t even know where you were on Dragonstone anymore. Occasionally you stumbled but that didn’t stop you from trudging on. 

Back at the castle, everyone was somber. Rhaenyra and Laenor had walked ahead of Daemon. Partially to get Lucerys back inside, partially to tell everyone what happened so they wouldn’t disturb you all. The attendants and maesters weren’t able to go near Daemon.

He insisted on preparing Aerys’ funeral himself. His other children — Baela and Rhaena finally coming back with Viserys and Naelyra — stayed in the room at his request. The door stayed open in case he needed anything but no one lingered in the large open room near the front of the castle in order to give the king his space. 

Daemon carefully wrapped his son’s body, sniffling and trying not to cry very hard. He took the scissors and cut the excess length from the final strip. In the main hall, everyone stopped and looked towards the door when they heard Daemon scream. He threw the scissors at the stone wall, finally breaking down and letting tears fall. Rhaena approached her dad and put a hand on his shoulder. Daemon hugged her and Baela before letting them take Aerys. He immediately scooped up Viserys and Naelyra. 

The tears were gone when he entered the main hall but everyone could tell he had been crying. He looked around for you but you were nowhere to be found. They started the match to the funeral pyre on the top of a hill with large rocks. Maybe you were already there. 

It had been well over an hour and you were still stumbling through the sand. You felt something like warm air blow against your back and surround you. Slowly, you turned around. A massive dragon — one you somehow didn’t hear — was staring at you. He was crouched down, head on the sand. 

The entirety of his body was covered in black scales. The horns on the top of his head were pointy and large. His green eyes stared into your own. And he wasn’t clean. The dragon looked rough, like a proper wild dragon in serious need of a bath. But he didn’t smell like dragon which you could only imagine was on purpose to aid in his sneaking abilities. 

“Cannibal,” you whispered. 

Running from a wild dragon was not a smart idea. Standing still and letting yourself get eaten by a dragon was also stupid. Cannibal roared. The deep cry was near deafening. You screamed back at him, not nearly as loud. The roar turned into a loud sob as you dropped into the sand. You clutched your chest and tried to keep breathing evenly. He closed his mouth and settled into the sand, almost confused at your actions.  

You stared at horns that outlined the side of his face. They were in the same spot near the back of the head like your dragons. But his horns weren’t straight and going backwards. They faced forward and curved like elephant tusks. The dragon didn’t move, continuing to just stare at you. Your eyes narrowed and you started to shake slightly. You regretted ever letting Aemond have his pick of Vhagar’s eggs. The Greens would not be allowed to continue living with this injustice. 

Pulling your dagger from its sheath on your hip, you cut your arm — right under the scar from Alicent’s cut years ago. You dipped your fingers in the blood from the cut and extended them towards the dragon.

He shifted his head but didn’t pull away completely. And he didn’t roar. Blood streaked over his mouth as you wiped it on him. His tongue darted out just a little bit. You put your foot on one of the curved horns. Cannibal let you walk along his horns until you were looking directly into his eye. He huffed.  You continued up until you were sitting on his head, between two large pointed horns. You held onto the small spikes.

“Cannibal… Soves.” 

The dragon took off, forcing you to clutch the small spikes even tighter. He was faster than you had expected for his size.

At the funeral pyre, the entire castle gathered to pay respects. Some stood in silence while others made plans to strike. Aerys’ death wouldn’t go unanswered. Daemon looked away from the pyre when two of the Queensguard men approached. He propped Viserys and Naelyra back up on his hips and walked towards them. 

“We can’t find her, Your Grace. Dragonstone is still being searched but it’s like she’s vanished. Vhagar and Caraxes are still here.” 

Daemon held his young children tighter. He looked around, unsure of what to do. He wanted to go look after you himself. But he didn’t want any of them — not even Baela and Rhaena who weren’t babies anymore — out of his sight.

Rhaenyra and Laenor approached him. They extended their arms and patiently waited for Daemon to let go of the children. He hesitantly put his kids in their arms. He didn’t even get the chance to make a step when the entire sky went dark. 

Everyone ducked at the massive creature they could now tell was a dragon. The wings flapped but it seemed like no sound was made. Even when it landed, the ground didn’t shake. The large dragon settled itself on the rocks. It wasn’t Vermithor who Daemon had seen days ago.

It wasn’t the other two unclaimed dragons that flew around Dragonstone. Every person there knew it was a wild dragon. Based on its size that barely overtook Caraxes, it was the Cannibal. They looked from the shadow night dragon to the blood wyrm. Cannibal didn’t seem to care about Caraxes at all. 

Daemon approached cautiously, more than relieved when he saw you slide down from the back of the dragon. He pulled you into a tight hug. He shook his head when you thanked him for handling the funeral. You buried your face in his chest. 

“I can’t do it,” you whispered. 

(Gaoman daor.)

“Caraxes, Dracar—” 

Daemon paused. Goldtear, Aerys’ dragon, had settled onto the pyre and wrapped his body around the dragon. Goldtear wouldn’t budge no matter how much they tried to push her away. The dragon roared and Caraxes responded. Without any command from his rider, the dragon spit fire.

Goldtear gave a single cry before settling down, opening her mouth to receive the fire easier. You turned your head just enough to see the orange fire burn until nothing but ash remained on the pyre. The wind blew the remainder away, letting the part of Aerys and Goldtear still left on the earth take their final resting place in the ocean. 

You and Daemon walked towards the pyre, kneeling down at it and praying to the gods of Old Valyria. Everyone else began to walk away and give you some space. Even your Queensguard moved farther away to where they could see you but not the other way around. You finished your prayer, looking up at the sky and screamed. Everyone walking back to the castle ducked at the deafening dragon roar. They looked behind them to see the Cannibal and green flames leaving his mouth.  

(part 10)

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[horizon-verizon]

If Rhaena gets Sheepstealer then, as far as the book go, that confirms it for me that Nettles really was Daemon’s biological daughter. But in HOTD, instead of bonding with his bastard daughter, Daemon will bond with Rhaena, his trueborn daughter. Laena asking Daemon about their daughters made me realize. Daemon is going to take Rhaena with him, train her in dragonriding arts, and they’ll become closer. She’ll want to step up for her father before they face Aemond and Vhagar, but he sends her away to protect her. Doesn’t make me like the idea more or accept Nettles being cut (because wow, way to just remove one of the only canon black characters IN the original story, and combining two Black women’s stories without understanding how each of them are completely different but both entirely necessary to the story) but as far as just wanting to make a show and not faithfully adapt the book ? Eh. It gets the job done.

rhaenin-time writes in this post's comments about the writers likely making Rhaenyra's later "madeness" into a more shocking spectacle by making her turn against Rhaena & having Rhaenyra turning against Rhaena nonsensical even for the show.

a) IF you are the first adapting a story, the aim should be to tell the original story as it is as best you can without undermining the themes, the plot-time-event sequence, and characterizations...since those make the story. ARE the story. Later adaptations can come in with their alternative storylines, etc. if they wish, but the point of wanting to see the story that you encounter made live....is to see that story made live.

Sometimes you need to make some changes because time constraints, production costs, or you find that you can cut some stuff/add others and the point of an original event from the original has both similar enough WEIGHT and the similar enough MEANING that the audience mostly understands the point of. However, HotD doesn't do these. So I do not see why "as far as just wanting to make a show and not faithfully adapt the book" was supposed to endear or pacify me to such changes? All it looks here is that they think Rhaena and Nettles are interchangeable & the story remains the same....which it does not and it is very obvious why when you read the book.

b) It never made sense for Daemon to treat his daughter, Rhaena, the way he did. That was forced drama. So for him to now have to finally bond with his own daughter from his Black wife only after she has a dragon presents a Daemon who has his come-to-Jesus moment way too late into his arc...he's supposed to come to himself and what he wants in his marriage to Laena.

And no I don't really care abt them having to follow their own bad choices bc of all the costs. Those choices were their own when they had options, therefore we still have the room and right to continue criticizing their later decisions that come from earlier ones. They also decided to be the ones directing this adaptation.

.............................................................................

below is just a reiteration of why I would never approve of a Rhaena-Nettles merge in any adaptation:

c) Rhaena has trouble hatching her egg; after Rhaenyra & Aegon die and Aegon III ascends, Rhaena's egg finally hatches thus representing some sort of hope and new beginnings but she cannot use said dragon to protect her brother as a war machine and thus still relies on her diplomacy and plotting w/Baela and Alyn Velaryon to do so. It also ensures that their house, for longer, out of the direction of other greedy houses like the Hightowers and the Peakes. However, she at least had the privilege to have access to a eggs to one day bond with.

Nettles is a lowborn teen girl with Valyrian ancestry who's enlisted to fight in the actual war, has likely been discriminated against her entire life whether due to skin or class intersected with her gender, & that matters bc she bonds with a dragon the sort of "twist" or surprise in a young girl having a dragon is precisely that they didn't expect a girl who looks like her to be able to...bc yes you do need Valyrian blood for a dragon to want to bond with you. Dragons "choose" their riders, you can't "tame" them. Nettles also coaxed Sheepstealer to bond with her, unlike nearly every other then wannabe-rider during the "Sowing", does it by continuously and patiently offering Sheepstealer sheep and thus establishing herself to the dragon as one interested in caring for them. A promise is made before the bond. [You can read more on Nettles' connection to Dany, dragonriidng, and her fire-goddess cult HERE on danylanzhou/brideoffires' Twitter thread]

Unlike Rhaena, who was put in the Vale for her protection and to disperse their scions to ensure the family/dynasty's survival, Nettles was in the very midst of fighting, was fighting and in the action of the war. But bc of classism and classism triggered by Ulf & Hugh's Betrayals at Tumbleton, she's also subjected to suspicion from Rhaenyra's council and nearly killed, thus propelling her to have to leave and later inspiring a huge fire goddess cult where people in the particular ethnic group must prove their bravery. Nettles and "Sheep"stealer, as I recently learned, also mimic how the first contact b/t Valyrians and dragons might have went--the first Valyrians were sheep herders in Essos.

Rhaena does not have this parallel, which emphasizes Nettles' ancestry, even as both--for all these reasons concerning dragons and bonding--contextualize and stem from Daenerys Stormborn's own dragon/magical arc.

Aside from all of this, Rhaena was raised alongside Rhaenyra's kids and became one of her own children whereas Nettles, though loyal, was never a "daughter" to Rhaenyra and possibly was one (I think she was, biologically) of Daemon's. It makes much more sense for Rhaenyra to want to execute a person who is "stranger" to her than her own stepdaughter she raised from young. Note, if Nettles WAS Daemon's daughter, she wouldn't have known that and bc he dies and Nettles flies off she would never know as much as she never knew that her youngest son, Viserys, was actually alive. So either Rhaenyra sought to kill her husband's daughter who she may have, once, been more amenable to have around (Nettles was 17, while they had been married for much shorter, so he hadn't cheated on her) if she had known but also bc this ties Nettles much closer to the Targs similarly to how Brynden Rivers was politically. I say Brynden Rivers bc he, like Nettles, was actually very loyal.

So the Rhaena-Nettles merging has little logical basis other than them not reading and understanding their stories thematic wise and/or misogynoir. It also has little moral basis.

How else can you explain to me that we have Hugh Hammer as our smallfolk look-in AND sympathized when he and Ulf are responsible for Tumbleton's Sack bc they wanted to be "kings" or high lords & raping at least one woman during war? And not Nettles, the teen girl from the lowest drudges of society, who had to fend for herself for seemingly a very long time and thus observe others to survive (Hugh was at least a blacksmith with a more reliable profession), who raises herself up from her deprived beginnings through a dragon and her own wits/charm?

[lovedreamer11]

You people have no idea how deep my hatred for Alicent Hightower is.

Okay, let's start from the beginning. Alicent is the daughter of Lord Hightower's younger brother. From this we can conclude that her dowry was unlikely to be huge and the likelihood that she could marry the heir of a great house is extremely small. Perhaps her maximum is the third son of a great house or some minor lord. The likelihood that Alicent was raised to become the main woman of a large house is extremely small.

After Otto became Hand, he brought his family to court. It's logical. His son could find a job for himself in the capital, and this was an opportunity to marry his daughter (After all, Otto could not know that Aemma would die or that Viserys would like Alicent). I have my evil theory. Based on the fact that Alicent spent several years in the capital, remained unmarried at the age of eighteen, in the chronicles she was initially mentioned only as Jaehaerys’ nanny and the cause of the quarrel between Otto and Daemon (according to Mushroom), and was not mentioned as a bright and popular personality at court , then we can conclude that the “beautiful and well-mannered” Alicent Hightower was not liked by any man except Viserys.

At that time, Alicent was the first woman to become queen without having a drop of Valyrian blood. Lord Hightower's niece received something she could not even dream of a few years ago. She became the most powerful woman in Westeros, received dresses, jewelry, power. Her children were born into royalty and given the opportunity to become dragonriders. Viserys was still young and handsome at that time. He loved his second wife very much, never cheated on her, and the only few times Viserys refused his wife something was when he refused to make Aegon his heir or refused to allow Luke's eye to be cut out.

But what kind of life could Alicent have had if she had accepted Rhaenyra as an heir? There could have been a polite relationship between the stepdaughter and stepmother, Alicent would not have turned her children against her sister and, accordingly, she would not have to fear that after ascending to the throne, Rhaenyra would execute her brothers.

(What did she expect in canon? Alicent began scheming and veiledly insulting her stepdaughter ever since she realized that Rhaenyra remained the heir, turned her children against her sister and nephews, insulted Rhaenyra's children, and after Viserys' death she began whining: "Oh, my stepdaughter hates me and my children because I tried to ruin her life for twenty years. Now she is the queen and can execute me." This should have been thought about earlier, before she began to turn a ten-year-old girl against herself.)

Let's go back. If Rhaenyra and Alicent had respected each other, then after the death of Viserys, Alicent could have remained at court along with her older children and grandchildren. She lived the rest of her life in luxury, surrounded by her family. Aegon and Helaena would have gotten married anyway. But they would live peacefully at court. I think Rhaenyra would still want her eldest half-brother close with her to keep an eye on him. Helaena would simply be happy with her children. Aemond and Daeron were princes. They could live their lives the way they wanted. Princes could stay at court and live in luxury, go on trips, and marry a beautiful lady of noble birth.

But no. After her marriage to Viserys, Alicent felt a sense of power and did not want to let it go. It was not enough for her to be the king’s wife, she wanted to be the king’s mother too. And this is what her ambitions brought her to. Years later, in asoiaf, no one mentions the existence of Alicent Hightower. Her father remained in history as a failed hand. Just like no one remembers her younger children Helaena, Aemond and Daeron, and most often, when one of the characters mentions Aegon, they remember his cruelty when he killed his sister in front of her son. Alicent got what she deserved.

Every time I think about Alicent, all I can think about is how bitter and greedy she was from the very beginning. It is not surprising that Aegon and Aemond grew up to be cruel bastards, Daeron became an irresponsible and dependent loser, Helaena seemed to be saved by the blood of her father.

[jaimeslanisters]

as a team green enthusiast, i think what they have going on compared to the blacks is that they have way more interesting characters. whether you like or hate them, team green's characters are so much more intriguing to me. otto is smart and cunning, alicent is one of the most layered characters in the show, criston is one of the finest knights in the realm, aegon is a somewhat tragic bumbling drunkard (i don't subscribe to what the show decided to do) who finally receives some form of validation once he becomes king, helaena has her prophetic dreams, aemond is aemond, and i can't wait to meet show!daeron. the only interesting characters on the black's team (imo) right now are rhaenyra, daemon, and a bit of rhaenys and corlys. the rest are children (no shade). the velaryon twins deserve better, and honestly, what are the distinguishing traits between jace and luke? they're just "good" and handsome boys lol. all that is to say, i enjoy pawn so much because you highlight the uniquness and nuance of the greens and their interactions with one another, for better or for worst

YES!!! COMPLETELY!!!!!

quick rant about family dynamics in team green vs team black under read more

while i’m truly team “the targaryens were always going to collapse through their own hubris”, im team green simply because the characters are so much more interesting. they’re the roy family if you stuck them into westeros and handed most of them weapons of mass destruction. they love each other. they’re each other’s deaths. sometimes they can’t stand the mere sight of another. they’ll kill to protect one another. they’ll die for one another.

like!!! this is all canon. this is what the show has shown us. aegon gets slapped around by alicent but when they pull him from his hiding spot, he asks for his mother. alicent resents him at times, the first chain that was looped around her neck, but she’ll stand in front of a dragon for him, fight for what’s his for him. aemond wants the throne, he covets it, but he calls it his brother’s throne, threatens luke for the crime of trying to steal it. helaena endlessly whispers about the death of her family, sews a funeral shroud for the child she hasn’t lost yet. criston is their sword, their shield, their iron fist.

how am i supposed to not be insane about them?? all their complexities and resentments and joys?? there’s so much you can dig into, so much you can do with their relationships. i feel like i write a “kinder” version of them, their relationships when they’re relatively safe and when there’s no real pressure that’s risking their lives. in pawn, for now, they’re not faced with the cost of what everything will take, the cost they know they’ll have to pay, so they’re given the chance to be warmer and kinder with one another. we know they have the potential to - aegon immediately rises to aemond’s defense in the dinner after all. aegon and aemond are gossips in a corner in the opening scene and then barely an episode later, they’re knocking each other to the ground. they’re a family with all the hurt and pain and love it brings with.

and the team black gets to be the brady bunch? they love each other, of course they do, but no family is 100% perfect, 100% emotionally competent. rhaena is ignored for her lack of a dragon - wheres her resentment? her insecurity? baela just accepts that and doesn’t feel anger for her twin? the two of them don’t mind their birthrights being taken out from under them? baela is fostered with the velaryons - would that not sway her to being more sympathetic to these cousins she’s now living with? these cousins who think that luke is a bastard usurper?

the velaryon twins and the strong boys don’t clash like at all? rhaenyra and daemon just shoved their families together, barely waiting for their respective spouses to be buried, and that went down smoothly? the kids are fine with each other and their parents who they now think are murderers. somehow.

rhaenys and corlys are suddenly ok with the mysterious death of laenor? post ep 8, all that grief and rage rhaenys has on a low simmer just vanishes and is replaced by adoration of rhaenyra and it’s such a robbery.

jace, imo, is the only one who gets somewhat of a personality at time. he’s quick to violence when confronting aemond at the dinner (even though he’s painfully unequipped to handle it lmao). he obviously distrusts daemon and sees him as grasping at power during his mother’s labor. maybe it’ll get shown in s2 but the fact that with his own siblings, we don’t get to see even a crumb of the layered interactions we get to see between team green.

despite this rant, i do love team black. i know i mainly talk about team green on this blog and my fic (and my mc) are solidly team green as well but i like the bones of what team black is, particularly with the younger cast. i wish they were just allowed to hold grudges and be messy like real people.