#Hotd

[a-atlas-s]

"(...) That i would inflict such a thing– on Haleana of all people!"

[cepetriwrites]

Helaena from Into the Eye

Blythe Baird, from If My Body Could Speak; “Concerns from a hot-boxed jeep”

[Text ID: “How do I stop / carrying everything / that had ever / happened to me?”]

[bearwithegg]

I love my Fail husband. Fail king. Fail guy. One day I'll draw Aegon not crying 🫵🤓 (u fool, u fell for it)

[prideprejudce]

alicent after a week of getting kicked out of her own small council to later finding out that rhaenyra is finally in her girl kissing era ten years too late and over 300 miles away

[n-i-m-u-e]

[whitelisis]

Screaming, crying, throwing up

ALICENT HIGHTOWER and RHAENYRA TARGARYEN HOUSE OF THE DRAGON — S2E8: The Queen Who Ever Was

[salialenart]

Helaena with Jaehaera Targaryen

10$ sketch comm for @drag0ndreamed

[targsource]

The Black Queen

by zacckiell on twitter

[daenerys-stormborn]

Seasmoke claiming Addam House of the Dragon | 2.06 "Smallfolk"

[twelvebooksstuff]

LOLOL I love this LOLOL

Low key want Aegon and larys and Helaena and Alicent to all run away to Essos purely so this can happen

[tarth]

Here is the hard truth, which no one else has the heart to tell you.

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON 1.02 "The Rogue Prince"

[gameofthronesdaily]

“He’s pushed to the limit in a way he hasn’t before. He’d just been painfully reminded about his biggest insecurity of being seen as weak and useless. Alicent said that to him in no uncertain terms. So I think he felt like he was backed into a corner and felt this was the only thing he could do. At least that’s how I justified his actions. And in doing so he realizes he’s not naturally a warrior. He doesn’t have that sort of brave, fearless mentality of some of the other characters. So he needs something to numb his fear and gets absolutely blind drunk and gets around to it.” — Tom Glynn-Carney, AV Club

[idkyetxoxo]

Cregan Stark - By Choice or Chance

Summary - Weary of courtly schemes she entrusts her brother Jace to choose her suitor—only to be blindsided when he selects his closest friend. Chaos and wit ensue as she wrestles with frustration, family bonds, and an undeniable spark. A reluctant union begins to feel like destiny.

Pairing - Cregan Stark x Velaryon reader

Warnings - None

Word count -2339

Masterlist for Cregan • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"I am so utterly tired of this," I groaned, my voice heavy with exhaustion as I walked alongside Jace. 

His hearty laugh echoed through the corridor, clearly finding amusement in my predicament, a cruel sort of merriment that only an older brother could revel in.

"Mother knows better than anyone how loathsome it was for her to parade around the realm in search of a husband. So why, in all the Seven Hells, must I suffer the same fate?" I grumbled, tugging at Jace's arm with a mixture of desperation and annoyance. 

His grin only widened, mischief dancing in his eyes.

"You know that's not why she's making you do this," Jace replied, effortlessly guiding me toward the grand hall, where I knew far too many eager, power-hungry men awaited like vultures scenting blood.

 "She simply wants a show—appearances, nothing more. You could refuse every single one of them, twice over, and she'd still be amused."

"I do not wish to endure this farce anymore," I muttered, forcing a practised, empty smile to settle upon my face as we crossed the threshold. 

The buzz of voices hushed as our presence commanded the room, countless lords straightening, eyes alight with thinly veiled ambition.

Jace cast a sideways glance at me, a flicker of sincerity breaking through his usual playfulness.

"What would you have me do?" he asked, his tone turning uncharacteristically grave. I bit my lip, closing my eyes against the cacophony of noise, my heart pounding with an odd mix of frustration and resignation.

"Choose for me," I whispered, the words a surrender as I nodded, the weight of my decision pressing down on me. Jace stared at me, stunned.

"You would want me to—" he began, disbelief colouring his words. I reached for his hand, pulling him down beside me before he could say more. 

"Do not jest, and do not mock. I trust you, Jace. You are my older brother. Choose someone worthy—someone kind and honourable. No one cruel, no one who would shatter what little peace I hold," I said, my voice low but firm. 

My plea was raw and earnest, and I saw something shift in his eyes—a hint of moisture he quickly blinked away.

His gaze softened, and I rolled my eyes to break the tension, pinching his thigh hard enough to make him yelp. 

"I trust you," I repeated, a ghost of a smile touching my lips. "Pick someone you would trust to be kind."

He studied me for a moment longer, then exhaled, a hint of nervousness betraying him as he turned his attention to the gathering crowd. 

Ser Erryk had begun to announce the lords, each name a dull drumbeat in my ears. But then Jace leaned closer, his voice barely audible. 

"Cregan Stark," he whispered.

I blinked, confusion clouding my features. "What?"

He nodded toward the entrance, where a tall, imposing figure with a warm smile strode purposefully into the hall. Lord Cregan Stark. 

My heart stuttered as I recognized him—Warden of the North, my brother's friend. His smile grew as he greeted Jace with a strong embrace.

"I have chosen Lord Cregan Stark," Jace declared suddenly, standing and turning to the crowd. His voice rang with an authority that left no room for argument.

"My prince?" Cregan asked, stepping back and glancing at me with a mixture of surprise and cautious formality.

"Princess," he greeted, bowing slightly as I rose, fighting to keep my composure amidst the whirlwind.

"Jace, are you certain?" I asked, my voice low but urgent. "Do not simply choose a companion because he is familiar. Think this through," I implored. Jace's lips curved in a soft, genuine smile.

"He is kind. He is honourable. Above all, I trust him," Jace said, placing a reassuring hand on Cregan's shoulder, though the poor man's expression remained one of utter bewilderment.

"My lords," Jace announced, addressing the room. "The princess has made her choice."

"She has?" I whispered, incredulous, eyes darting between my brother and Cregan. The assembled nobles erupted into disgruntled murmurs, their dissatisfaction palpable. 

Cregan's wide eyes met mine, his bewilderment almost comical.

"Jace, he hasn't even agreed!" I hissed through clenched teeth.

Jace turned to Cregan, feigning surprise at the oversight. "Ah, right. Lord Stark, would you accept the hand of my sister?"

I groaned inwardly, smacking Jace's arm with more force than was strictly necessary. "I was a fool to leave this in your hands," I muttered, my voice thick with regret.

Cregan cleared his throat, his deep voice calm despite the chaos. "My prince, I would be honoured, but—"

"Excellent!" Jace interrupted, beaming like a child who'd just gotten away with mischief.

"My deepest apologies, Lord Stark," I rushed to say, stepping forward. "We have thrust you into an impossible situation. My brother is a reckless fool, and I assure you, this can be undone. You owe me nothing."

Cregan opened his mouth as if to respond, then closed it, seemingly at a loss for words. His eyes flickered with a mixture of confusion and faint amusement, but he remained silent. 

I turned my gaze toward the dispersing crowd of disgruntled lords and courtiers, who murmured their discontent as they made their way out. 

My eyes snapped back to Jace, and I felt a surge of hot anger rising in my chest.

"You," I spat, each word dripping with exasperation, "are an idiot, a fool, and most importantly, soon-to-be-dead." I punctuated each insult with a slap to his arm, which he only half-heartedly tried to dodge. 

Jace's expression was a mix of sheepishness and a smirk that betrayed far too much enjoyment of my ire.

"Princess, truly—" Cregan began, his deep voice calm and measured, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand.

"My lord, I insist," I said, my tone urgent but polite. "Please, attend to whatever matters have brought you so far south. I will see that this... misunderstanding is corrected." I shot Jace a furious glare and shoved him aside. 

"Go on," I added, more to myself than anyone else, already plotting how I might fix this mess.

As I strode purposefully toward Ser Erryk, my blood still boiling, I extended my hand with a commanding air. 

"Ser Erryk, your sword. For just a moment," I demanded, my voice firm. 

The knight hesitated, glancing between me and Jace, whose eyes had widened in genuine alarm as he rapidly shook his head.

"Princess, perhaps it would be wise to reconsider—" Ser Erryk began cautiously, his hand not moving from the hilt of his sword. The edge of his voice suggested he'd rather face a dragon than step into the sibling quarrel unfolding before him.

I let out a groan of frustration, turning back to Jace, who had the audacity to grin, albeit nervously. I pointed an accusing finger at him, my voice sharp.

"You will listen to whatever Lord Stark has to say. You will grant whatever request he makes. Then, and only then, will you come find me—so I can kill you myself," I declared, each word laced with the promise of retribution.

Jace's grin faltered slightly, and he swallowed, but a trace of his usual bravado remained. 

"Understood, sister," he replied, a hint of humour still lingering despite the severity of the situation.

Jace had always been both my greatest tormentor and my fiercest protector. 

His ability to infuriate me in one moment and remind me of his steadfast loyalty in the next was a skill honed over years of sibling rivalry. 

Yet now, as his antics threatened to reshape my entire future, I couldn't decide whether I wanted to strangle him or thank him.

Spinning on my heel, I stormed out of the hall, the thud of the great doors closing behind me echoing like a drumbeat. 

My footsteps reverberated down the stone corridors as I sought a moment of solitude—a moment to cool the fire raging within me.

─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───

Dinner that evening was a grand affair. The great hall was bathed in the warm glow of flickering candlelight, casting long shadows on the stone walls. 

The scent of roasted meats, spiced wine, and freshly baked bread filled the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation.

 I entered with a mix of trepidation and resignation. 

The events of the day still burned vividly in my mind, and I could already sense the watchful eyes of courtiers waiting for any sign of discord or scandal.

I moved to my usual seat at the long table, and as I did, Jace approached, a mischievous smile playing at his lips. 

For a brief moment, it seemed he might take the seat beside me, but at the last second, he hesitated. His eyes met mine with a flicker of guilt—or was it amusement?—before he strode deliberately to the far end of the table, placing as much distance between us as possible. 

I rolled my eyes, feeling a pang of annoyance and, perhaps, a twinge of disappointment. I steeled myself for another night of tense silence and forced pleasantries.

Just then, a shadow fell across my seat. I looked up, surprised to see none other than Cregan Stark standing there.

 His presence seemed to command the attention of the entire room. Tall, broad-shouldered, and with a bearing that spoke of quiet strength, he inclined his head respectfully.

 "May I join you, Princess?" he asked, his voice low and rumbling.

I blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. Heat crept up my neck, and I hoped the dim light would mask the blush that rose to my cheeks. 

"Of course, my lord," I replied, perhaps a touch too quickly. 

He took the seat beside me, and I was keenly aware of his nearness—the brush of his arm as he settled himself, the faint scent of northern pine that clung to him.

Across the table, my mother, Rhaenyra, regarded us with a knowing smile. "Well done, my love," she said, lifting her goblet in a subtle toast. "An excellent choice for a husband."

I nearly choked on my wine. "No, Mother," I protested, setting the goblet down with more force than necessary. "This was not my doing. Jace was being impulsive and foolish, as he so often is."

Rhaenyra arched a regal brow, amusement sparkling in her eyes. 

"Is that so?" she asked, her tone almost playful. "Well, it seems Lord Stark disagrees."

I turned sharply to Cregan, who met my gaze steadily. There was no trace of discomfort in his expression; instead, he looked resolute, even gentle. 

"If you will have me, Princess," he said, his voice warm and sincere, "I would be truly honoured."

My heart skipped a beat. Time seemed to slow, and for a moment, all the sounds of the great hall—the laughter, the clinking of plates, the rustling of fine garments—faded into the background.

 I glanced at Jace, who was watching from across the room with a smug, self-satisfied grin.

 I shot him a glare, but it held no real malice. His plan, reckless as it had been, seemed to have worked better than even he could have anticipated.

I turned back to Cregan, searching his eyes for any hint of hesitation, any sign that this was a mere formality. But there was none. 

"Of course," I blurted, my voice a mix of nerves and excitement. "Of course, I will have you."

His smile was genuine and relieved. We began to speak then, softly at first, exchanging pleasantries and stories. 

We spoke of Winterfell, of his travels, of the Northern customs that differed so much from those of the South. He asked me of my own life, and for once, I found myself speaking freely, without the need to measure every word.

 His interest was genuine, and his laughter, deep and rich, filled the spaces between courses.

Throughout the meal, our conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by shared glances and moments of unspoken understanding. 

It was as if the rest of the hall melted away, and we were the only two people in the room. 

I caught Jace's eye once or twice, and he raised his goblet in a silent toast, a look of smug triumph on his face. 

I would have thrown something at him if I weren't so... happy.

As the evening wore on, I realized that this was the best possible outcome—an arrangement born of chaos and impulse that somehow, against all odds, felt right.

By the end of the dinner, my earlier frustration had all but disappeared, replaced by something far more promising.

As the last of the courses was cleared away, Cregan turned to me, his expression shifting from lighthearted to something more serious, more vulnerable. He leaned closer, and I felt the air between us grow heavy with anticipation. 

"I truly did not anticipate this, Princess," he whispered, his voice low and intimate, meant for my ears alone. 

His words carried a hint of wonder, as if he too marveled at the unexpected turn of fate that had brought us here.

A flutter of nerves stirred in my chest, and I couldn't bring myself to meet his gaze. 

Instead, I focused on the way his thumb traced a slow, careful path over his goblet as if searching for the right words. 

Hesitantly, as though testing the waters, he reached for my hand. His fingers brushed against mine, warm and reassuring, and then settled over them. 

The touch was gentle, almost tentative, as if he feared I might pull away.

"But I am ever so pleased," he said, his voice a soft rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. 

His eyes searched mine, and there was no mistaking the sincerity in his gaze—the promise of respect, kindness, and something that could become more.

My breath caught, and I found myself squeezing his hand in return, a silent answer to the unspoken question that lingered between us.

 "As am I," I whispered, the words barely audible, but the truth of them resonated within me. 

In that moment, beneath the flickering candlelight and the watchful eyes of our kin, the tension melted away, replaced by something softer, something I dared to hope could last.

 Perhaps Jace's reckless gamble had been worth it after all.

A/n - Everybody say thank you older brother Jace, this was so fun to write asw was lowkey giggling whilst typing away (lowkey got me out of a writing slump) 😝

Cregan tag list - @veesuguru

[whitelisis]

They look so much like one other I can't-

what if you‘re alicent hightower and you gave birth to all your grief and your pain and your broken dreams and he wears your face

[puddingdemonlair]

~Princess Helaena Targaryen~

My second ASOIAF portrait, the tragic sisters are now a pair 😔 I gave Helaena softer features than Rhaenyra and more down-turned eyes. I like to think Rhaenyra inherited her sharper features from her mother, Aemma, while Helaena got Viserys' soft, rounded features.