#King's Landing

[patheticdarling]

Her Sacrifice

Summary: The assassins had no such luck finding Prince Aemond but what were they to do when they stumbled upon the beloved wife of King Aegon instead? Her belly swollen with his heir.

Warnings: Blood & Cheese/murder/gore & blood/cursing/threats/blades/pregnancy/kidnapping/funeral/incest (reader is helaena's older twin)

Word Count: 2236

"The other lords will be accompanying me for a drink in the Throne Room. Shall you join us, Wife?" Aegon asked, a slightly eager smile on his face, anticipating your agreement.

You sighed as you began to undo the braids in your hair, "The hour is late, Husband. I must rest."

Aegon pouted, "Just a cup! We've attended to our royal duties all day, have we not earned a bit of respite?"

"Respite is what I shall get with a good night's sleep. Not drinking until sunrise with you and your comrades," you teased. You stood from seat at your vanity, walking over and placing Aegon's hand on your growing bump, "Besides, do you not wish for our babe to be born healthy? So that they may grow into formidable dragon riders like their parents."

He smiled softly at your belly before kissing it sweetly, "You make a good point, my dear. Mayhaps I should stay in with you."

You shook your head, smiling down at him, "Do not let me stop your fun. You are right. The King deserves his respite. Besides there may not be many more nights where we get to enjoy ourselves," motioning to your bump.

"You are going to make a wonderful mother," Aegon stood from his seat, "I shall allow you to enjoy your last moments of rest then." He planted a soft kiss on your lips, "I love you, Y/N."

You stroked his hair, "I love you, Aegon."

Aegon kissed you once more before giving your belly a playful squeeze and disappearing from your chambers. You summoned one of your ladies to help you finish getting ready for bed. Thanking her as you got yourself comfortable between the silk sheets of you and Aegon's bed. Finally bidding her good night as she blew out most of the candles, leaving a few on for Aegon's drunken return.

You could not be sure of the hour when you heard your chamber doors creak open followed by the shuffling of feet. You did not even bother opening your eyes, assuming you'd feel the bed indent as Aegon stumbled towards it.

"Back so soon?" you teased, "I was only being half serious about the sunset-"

Suddenly, a large hand clamped over your mouth. Your eyes shot open as two men loomed over you. You screamed and panicked as the larger man used his other arm to keep you pinned to the bed.

"Quiet!" the smaller man pulled a blade out, pressing it to your throat, "Unless you want me to bleed you like a pig."

You nodded, terrified of what these men could do, "W-Who are you? What do you want?"

"Its not our wants you should be concerned with, Your Grace."

"Who sent you? What do y-you want from me?" your voice shook.

"A life is owed. It wasn't supposed to be you. A son for a son we were told," the smaller man shrugged, "But it seems Prince Aemond isn't in the castle tonight."

Of course, you thought. This was about Lucerys. Your younger brother had taken the boy's life and that was a deed that could not go unpunished. You knew how deeply your eldest sister loved all of her children. The loss of one would be devastating. Taking Aemond's life made sense. But taking yours? And the life of your unborn child? That was not in Rhaenyra's nature. This was plotted by someone far more sinister and dark.

"My uncle sent you, didn't he?" you spoke up. They both sent stares to the other, "Daemon Targaryen. He sent you to kill one of us."

The large man scoffed, "Aren't you a smart one?"

"Shame those smarts won't do you any good now, will they?" the smaller one mocked.

"Please," you tried to beg, "Do not do this. No good will-" The large hand came down on your mouth again.

"That's enough," he grunted before turning back to the smaller man, "I'll hold her down and you cut."

Your blood ran cold at his words. Not only were they going to kill you but they were going to tortuously cut out your unborn child. They both yanked you further down the bed until you were flat on your back. You tried to kick, scream, bite, thrash as much as you could but the man proved to have almost inhuman strength. The smaller man raised his blade, that same sadistic grin plastered on his face before he began to dig it into the lower part of your abdomen.

White hot pain seared through your body as he continued to slice into you. Your vision was blurred with tears and you could have sworn your throat was raw from your cries. Though the pain was so intense that you could not process the sounds that might have been leaving you. Warm blood pooled all around you, the once ivory sheets now a deep crimson. One last gasp left you as they pulled your child from your body.

Suddenly you had remembered your mother telling you about the pains of childbirth when you first married Aegon and all anyone could talk about was you producing his heirs. She had a rather negative approach that utterly terrified you. So, you decided to find comfort in Rhaenyra's advice instead.

"I will not withhold the truth from you, it truly is the most excruciating pain a woman must go through."

You groaned, "That is not what I had wished to hear, Sister."

"You did not let me finish. The process is hard, yes. And you will feel the urge to curse the Gods or even your husband and swear to never bear anymore children," you both laughed, "But the moment you hear those sweet cries and your babe is placed upon your chest, the pain is forgotten. And nothing has ever seemed so worth it. Then you will know, right then and there, that you would do it all over again if it meant you could finally find that purest form of love."

And yet, you would never discover that beautiful feeling your sister had painted so clearly. The room was almost eerily silent besides the dripping of blood onto the stone floor.

"What do you know?" the man panted as he held your lifeless infant, "A son. Congratulations, my Queen."

You could not speak as you felt your body numb itself. Tears falling with no cries as they stuffed your son's body into a sack. It was as if you could feel your heart shatter. The men finished their sinister act before fleeing through a secret passageway. You tried little to fight the heaviness in your eyes. Perhaps this was all a horrible dream and if you shut your eyes, you'd open them to find yourself in bed with Aegon's arms wrapped securely around your belly. The last thing you could muster was a small smile at the sentimental image as your vision faded out completely.

"Sister?" Helaena called out into your bed chamber, "I did not wish to wake you but Aegon is being so loud and I cannot sleep with him-" Her voice caught in her throat at the sight of your mangled body lying on the bed. Your figure lifeless and your eyes vacant as you stared at the canopy. She approached your body, a shaky hand reaching out to touch your face to be met with utter stillness. Helaena backed out of the room slowly, tears flowing down her cheeks before sprinting to find some sort of help. As if anyone could undo what had already been done.

"I-I don't know what happened. I came in and she...she was..." Helaena's voice cracked with sobs as various people filed into the royal bed chamber; the Kingsguard, the Dowager Queen, the Hand, and lastly, your husband.

They all stopped at the sight before them, their eyes welling with tears and their stomachs churning. The Dowager Queen let out a heavy sob as all their attention turned to the King. Aegon approached your body cautiously.

He fell to his knees, his hands cradling your bloodied face as he sobbed, "My wife, my dearest-"

Nobody dared say a word as Aegon mourned over you. His sobs heavy with grief as he called out your name over and over again. The Queen Mother clutching Helaena's arm as they cried with him. The Kingsguard hanging their heads low in shame at their failure to protect their Queen. Otto Hightower, known to be quick with his word, said nothing.

The council meeting that followed was one full of dread and grief. Most of the council mourned, the Hand schemed, and the King could do not but curse the Gods and swear revenge.

"Your Grace, perhaps we should speak of the funeral arrangements for the Queen-"

"No," Aegon was quick to stop the Hand, who raised a brow at his grandson's denial, "I will not have my wife's body dragged through the streets like a dog!"

"Not dragged, honored!" Otto corrected him before lowering his tone as he spoke to the King, "Y/N was my granddaughter and I loved her. She deserves the funeral of a Targaryen princess, a Targaryen queen. The small folk wish to mourn their Queen and the heir she carried. And they need to know who is responsible for this."

Aegon's face twisted in disbelief, "How could they not already know?! Who else would do this save the bitch queen of bastards?!"

"We must know for certain, Your Grace," Lord Jasper suggested, "If it was not your sister, this may prove to be an even bigger threat to the crown, to you, my King."

Aegon scoffed, "I do not care what threatens me. My wife is dead. And my child," he stifled a sob, "That cunt did this, I know it. Her and her kingdom of traitorous bastards will burn for it."

Before anyone could speak, the doors of the council chamber opened as Lord Larys entered. He bowed meekly as all eyes turned to him.

"My lords, Your Grace," he greeted the council.

All stood still, "State your purpose, Lord Larys," the Hand spoke.

"We have apprehended one of the assailants. A gold cloak, known for his brutal nature. The guards caught him fleeing the Gate of Gods. He carried the child's body in a sack."

The King hardly wasted any time, stomping over to the doors, "I shall kill him myself."

"We might retrieve further information about who is to blame for this tragedy after questioning," Ser Criston stopped Aegon from leaving as Otto spoke, "I trust in your skill set, Lord Larys."

The Strong Lord bowed before exiting the room. All eyes turned once again to the King and his Hand.

"We will hold the service for both the child and mother-"

"I said no," Aegon grunted, "My wife and child will not be put on display for the Realm."

"Your Grace, we might use this to our advantage in the war you wish to march into. Your people need to know the depravity that Rhaenyra is capable of. The great houses of Westeros will see that she is not fit to rule given her cruel nature. They will flock to your side and with them, their armies and bannermen."

Aegon continued to shake his head. He could not just let them see you or your child like that. They did not deserve it.

"Mother," he turned to the Dowager Queen for support.

Alicent approached Aegon's chair, "The Hand sets on a difficult path, my darling, but it might be the right one."

The King could not muster anymore fight, "Have the Silent Sisters prepare the Queen and child for their journey. Behind them will be Princess Helaena and the Queen Mother."

"No, I do not wish to be a spectacle," Alicent argued but her father would not hear it.

Your husband visited your body as the Silent Sisters began to prepare it. They had cleaned the mess and dressed you in one of your favorite dresses, the emerald color complimenting your skin and hair.

"Your Grace, it is ill-fated to look upon the face of death," Maester Orwyle warned.

"That is not the face of death, Maester. That is my wife," Aegon spoke, "Leave me with her."

Maester Orwyle and the Silent Sisters bowed before leaving the King with your body. He softly stroked the hair from your face as he broke into sobs once again.

"I am so sorry, my love," he cried, "I-I should have been there to protect you. And our son." Maester Orwyle had informed His Grace that the child you carried was a prince, a perfect heir, "You truly would have been the most wonderful mother. You were already a perfect wife and Queen. Motherhood would have come naturally."

Aegon recounted how well you did with Rhaenyra's last two babies, the ones she had with his uncle Daemon. As much as he did not care for his half-sister, he knew you did. Always quick to defend her, even against your own family. So, he was forced to ask himself, how could she do this to you? To your child?

"They will pay for what they have done," your husband muttered to you, "I will win this war. I will win it for our child. I will win it for you. With fire and blood. Your sacrifice will not be for naught, my Queen."

[wardrobeoftime]

House of the Dragon + Costumes

King Aegon II Targaryen's Valyrian steel armour in Season 02, Episode 03 & 04.

// requested by anonymous

[myfandomprompts]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON 2 SCENERY

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

HIGHTOWERS SIBLINGS, TWEETS:

[game-of-style]

Gowns for Queen Aemma Arryn, mother of Rhaenyra Targaryen - Atelier Couture Spring 2022

[goosebasedcryptid]

How do you do fellow asoiaf nerds

Please (please) enjoy this map I made for a King's Landing metro network this summer

Here are some Facts (a lot of them are based on the Paris metro because I have to suffer through it daily)

- There are tunnels that connect the Jaehaerys, Alchemists and Alysanne stations and the signs are so unhelpful you will lose 10 minutes going around in circles every time

- Septon Barth was supposed to be called "Maegor" when lines 5 to 7 were announced but due to the public's opinion they changed it (this is because I originally named the station Maegor wtf was I thinking)

- Lines 3 and 2 have different fares if you want to go to the airports or the harbor

- Some portions of line 6 around High Hill and Aegon I are above ground, the stations and rails have become prime street art real estate, and the neighbourhood around it is gentrified as f

- Line 4 is always late or crowded and the seats have bedbugs

- The station at the Dragonpit is designed to look like a cave and has really cool decorations with fake dragon bones and reproductions of historical artefacts and lore.

- Line 7 was supposed to be a full loop but the rich neighbourhoods on Aegon's Hill and around on Red Keep didn't want the metro running through their backyards. So if you want to go from the River Gate to the Iron Gate you either have to go all the way around the city walls or ride 4 successive lines.

Please critique and suggest improvements and or/fun facts of your own

[bbygirl-aemond]

one of my favorite things about this show is the recurring themes of power rotting and corrupting everything around it. viserys says plainly that the crown "crushes whoever wears it" and we've seen the iron throne cut him before, but recently we're also getting more at the idea that the rot spreads beyond just crown and throne. the entire red keep, as the seat of power for the realm, is just as corrupted. as alicent says in this episode, there is nothing clean there; it is as infested with power as it is infested with rats. and even king's landing as a whole is marred by the war and the struggle for power, as we saw with the riots. it is only outside of king's landing entirely- outside of civilization entirely- that alicent can find respite.

[tronodiferro]

Daemon & Rhaenyra's Legacy by Jota Saraiva

[silverflameataraxia]

Imagine thinking the sibling that you were closest to is dead and then finding out they're alive...and betrothed to those who betrayed and murdered your family.

Jon saw no reason not to tell him. "Moat Cailin is taken. The flayed corpses of the ironmen have been nailed to posts along the kingsroad. Roose Bolton summons all leal lords to Barrowton, to affirm their loyalty to the Iron Throne and celebrate his son's wedding to..." His heart seemed to stop for a moment. No, that is not possible. She died in King's Landing, with Father. "He's to marry Arya Stark. My little sister." Jon could almost see her in that moment, long-faced and gawky, all knobby knees and sharp elbows, with her dirty face and tangled hair. They would wash the one and comb the other, he did not doubt, but he could not imagine Arya in a wedding gown, nor Ramsay Bolton's bed. No matter how afraid she is, she will not show it. If he tries to lay a hand on her, she'll fight him. By now she'd be eleven, Jon thought. Still a child. "I have no sister. Only brothers. Only you." Lady Catelyn would have rejoiced to hear those words, he knew. That did not make them easier to say. His fingers closed around the parchment. Would that they could crush Ramsay Bolton's throat as easily. Jon felt as stiff as a man of sixty years. Dark dreams, he thought, and guilt. His thoughts kept returning to Arya. There is no way I can help her. I put all kin aside when I said my words. If one of my men told me his sister was in peril, I would tell him that was no concern of his. Once a man had said the words his blood was black. Black as a bastard's heart. He'd had Mikken make a sword for Arya once, a bravo's blade, made small to fit her hand. Needle. He wondered if she still had it. Stick them with the pointy end, he'd told her, but if she tried to stick the Bastard, it could mean her life. "The heart is all that matters. Do not despair, Lord Snow. Despair is a weapon of the enemy, whose name may not be spoken. Your sister is not lost to you." "I have no sister." The words were knives. What do you know of my heart, priestess? What do you know of my sister?

- Jon VI, ADwD

Interesting that Sansa's marriage to Tyrion wasn't even worthy of being mentioned to Jon (even though we know he knew about it, he's never once cared enough to voice any thought on the subject), but Arya's betrothal to Ramsay takes up Jon's entire sixth POV in ADwD 🤣

[nulnoildrinker]

Say what you will about the devastation brought by the dance of the dragons, but for a few glorious weeks there must've been dragon in the bowls o' brown in Flea Bottom, and I think that's beautiful.

[aesthetic--mood]

Daemon Targaryen Aesthetic

[daenysthedreamer101]

Daughter of Steel and Bronze ~ HOTD

Ch 2 - Claiming your birthright

HOTD x Targaryen!OC, eventual Targaryen!OC x Harwin Strong

Warnings: none, fluff, Nyra and Daena being adorable besties

Masterlist

"In 105 AC, Prince Daemon claimed Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm, for himself. Caraxes was previously ridden by Prince Aemon, Daemon's uncle. This fact made many people at court wary, especially Ser Otto Hightower, the Hand, for Prince Daemon was hotheaded and quick to anger. It seemed he found his equal in Caraxes. Prince Daemon was also the wielder of Dark Sister, one of the ancestral swords of House Targaryen. As for his daughter, her egg never hatched. Nevertheless, this would not stop the Prince in his journey to make his beloved Daena a dragon rider like himself."

(Fire & Blood, Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros, by Archmaester Gyldayn)

~

The next day was the first official day of Rhaenyra's name day celebration. The whole of the Red Keep was bustling with excitement - from the cooks in the Royal kitchens to the stable boys and of course, the Royal family. Daena was expected to be there for her cousin and make this special day even more special. Today at noon the celebration would officially begin with a great feast in the Great Hall. 

She was woken up by Amanda and told that Rhaenyra had called for her for a visit. They were to break fast with the Queen. Daena liked the idea of that. Queen Aemma was kind, soft-spoken, loving, and nothing but caring. She was always nice to Daena. But Daena felt bad for her. Every time Daena saw her, which wasn't a lot but still, she was pregnant. And as far as Daena knew, none of the babies the Queen was pregnant with survived. Daena, dressed in a simple silk dress decorated with bronze and silver threads, was now being escorted to the Queen's chambers. 

There, she was greeted by Rhaenyra who pulled her in a tight hug. "Cousin! You're here! We're going to have the best time today!" Nyra exclaimed happily. 

"And why is that, dear cousin?" Daena asked. Nyra giggled, pulled her closer, and whispered in her ear. 

"Because...I convinced Father and Uncle Daemon to let you see Syrax! I know how much you wished for it. So I thought we could do it after the feast!" Nyra said. 

Daena's eyes widened in shock. Daena couldn't contain the squeal that left her mouth. She and Nyra jumped in delight. Aemma was chuckling in the back.

~

At noon the great feast began. She had the honor of sitting next to Rhaenyra. "You're the closest thing I have to a sister. I think you deserve to sit next to me." Nyra told her when they sat down at the high table. From there, Daena could see the entire Hall and all the lords and ladies who came for the celebration. 

Uncle Viserys was in the middle. To his right was Queen Aemma and next to her was Ser Otto Hightower. To the King's left was Rhaenyra. To Daena's left was her father, Daemon. After the first course, Rhaenyra got up and danced with their cousin, Laenor Velaryon. Daena never interacted much with him. She preferred his sister, Laena. Laena was a year younger than Daena and was lively and fun to play with.

During the feast, Daena could see many people looking her way and whispering to each other. The daughter of the Rogue Prince was making her first official appearance at court. She didn't understand why they all feared her father. He was always kind and gentle with her. He would braid her hair and teach her High Valyrian.

He would sing her lullabies in the ancient language. Most importantly, he would comfort her anytime she was sad about not having a dragon. But apparently, other people thought he was "dangerous" and "cruel as Maegor". She wanted to roll her eyes at those ridiculous words. 

After the feast held in the Great Hall, Daena was tired. Well, not tired per se, she felt heavy and sleepy from eating so much food. She yawned quietly and saw Nyra looking at her. "Issi ao ēdrugī, hāedar?" (Are you sleepy, little sister/cousin?) Rhaenyra asked Daena.

Daena smiled sheepishly and nodded her head. Nyra chuckled and took Daena's hand in hers. "Nyke tolī. Māzigon va. Ivestragī's jikagon se gūrogon iā adere ēdrugon." (Me too. Come on. Let's go and take a nap.) The two young princesses walked happily hand in hand toward Rhaenyra's bed chamber. 

There, they took off their dresses and were left only in their small clothes. They unbraided each other's silver hair. Daena pulled the big, heavy velvet curtains over the windows. They crawled into Rhaenyra's bed and slept with full bellies and happy hearts. 

~

Daemon couldn't wait for the feast to be over. The only reason he was there in the first place is because it was expected of him, as the King's brother. Also, he knew just how much it meant to his niece, Rhaenyra, and his daughter Daena. The two girls were inseparable and were sisters in everything but name. His primary goal in coming to the capital was to secure a dragon for his precious girl. Even now he could hear people whispering around the court about how his daughter's egg didn't hatch. How it's too late for her. 

"Lies. All lies." He claimed Caraxes when he was 24. His daughter had plenty of time to claim one for herself. But Daemon was anything but a patient person. So, of course, he was planning on speeding up the process. He planned on suggesting to the King that, since Daena was down South, she should visit the ancient ancestral seat of their House - Dragonstone. There, she could explore the island and its many caves. Hopefully, she would bond with a hatchling.

"Where is that mischievous little girl?" Daemon murmured to himself as he walked down the halls of the Red Keep. He checked her room. She wasn't there. She must've snuck somewhere, away from the buzz of the court. And if his instincts were right, she wasn't alone. 

He quickly turned to the other hallway, which housed Rhaenyra's room. In front of her door was her sworn shield, Ser Harrold Westerling. "Prince Daemon." The knight greeted him. 

"Ser Harrold...did you by any chance see my daughter? I can't seem to locate her." Daemon inquired. The knight nodded, opened the heavy oak door, and gestured for Daemon to walk in. So he did. The sight that greeted him warmed his rogue heart.

On top of the big oak bed, his little girl was curled up with her favorite cousin, the two blissfully asleep. Their silver hair was loose, their round cheeks red from the heat of the fireplace. The room was barely lit and the air was stuffy. Their little hands were intertwined. They seemed to be hugging each other, their breaths mingling. He originally wanted to scold Daena for sneaking out of the feast with Rhaenyra, but he didn't have the heart to wake them up now.

At the foot of the bed, he saw a book, lying open. It seems the girls were reading before taking a nap. He picked it up. It was in High Valyrian. This particular chapter was about commands riders would use on their dragons. "My little dragon...always eager to learn." Daemon thought to himself with a smile on his face. 

He walked closer to the edge of the bed and looked at the sleeping figure of his little girl. She was so beautiful, she looked like a little angel - now even more so. He caressed her rosy cheek and moved a silver curl from her face. "Ñuha gevie riña." (My beautiful girl.) He whispered and pulled the covers over their small bodies. He left the room silently. 

"Inform me when the Princesses wake up." He told Ser Harrold and went in the direction of the stables to get his horse. He was going to the Dragonpit with a plan in his mind.

~

They were awakened by the harsh afternoon sunlight. Daena could feel the light hitting her eyes. She groaned and turned around, almost colliding with Nyra's face. 

"Princesses...It seems you fell asleep. Prince Daemon told me to wake you up. Have you forgotten about your little arrangement in the Dragonpit?" Amanda told them with a small smile on her face. 

"Oh Gods! Yes, of course! Come on Daena, get dressed!" Rhaenyra said with a gasp and urged her cousin to get dressed quickly. 

"But my clothes are in my room...Besides...I don't have any clothes for dragon riding..." Daena argued. 

"That's not a problem. Take one of my suits." Nyra offered graciously. This made Daena smile a wide smile. 

The trip to the Dragonpit was short. The two girls chatted the whole time so the time went by quickly. Once they arrived, Daena could not believe her eyes. The Dragonpit was a huge, cavernous building made to house the dragons. And the sight that greeted her brought a smile to her face. Her father, Daemon was scratching the scales of his monstrous red dragon, Caraxes, known as the Blood Wyrm. She could see that Caraxes was restless to fly.

"Come, sweet girl. He won't hurt you." Daemon called for her. She looked at Rhaenyra who was beside her. Nyra just smiled a mischievous smile. 

"But what about you? You told me I would see Syrax." Daena questioned.

"Don't worry. I will introduce you two later. Now, go!" Nyra said and pushed her deeper into the Pit. 

Daena slowly approached her father and his dragon. She has seen the dragon many times. Her father took her hand and pressed it against Caraxes's hot scales. For a second she thought her skin would melt off her hands, but it didn't. The dragon clicked and whistled, happy to see his rider's child. He could sense the little being was a Targaryen, that she was Daemon's offspring, and that she too had the blood of the dragon. His big yellow eyes bore into her lilac ones.

"He likes you. He can tell - you're a dragon too." Daemon told his daughter. She smiled shyly, happy that her father's dragon liked her. 

"Now. Climb up." Daemon ordered her. She whipped her head. 

"What!?" Daena said, shocked. 

"You heard me. Climb up. I will be right behind you." He assured her. She took a deep breath and started climbing the ropes to get to the saddle, her father right behind her. 

"Sōvēs Caraxes!" (Fly Caraxes!) She heard her father say behind her. And then, they flew. 

High Valyrian:

Issi ao ēdrugī, hāedar? - Are you sleepy, little sister/cousin?

Nyke tolī. Māzigon va. Ivestragī's jikagon se gūrogon iā adere ēdrugon. - Me too. Come on. Let's go and take a nap. 

Ñuha gevie riña. - My beautiful girl. 

Sōvēs Caraxes! - Fly Caraxes! 

***

In this chapter we see more of Daena's bond with both Nyra and her father. It was mostly filler but next chapter will be a crucial one for Daena.

Hope you liked it, and thanks for reading! ❤❤❤

If you have any opinions feel free to comment!

[wardrobeoftime]

House of the Dragon + Costumes

King Aegon II Targaryen's blue shirt and green & golden doublet in Season 02, Episode 01 & 02.

// requested by anonymous

[thewatcher0nthewall]

How Cruel can The Gods be?

[racefortheironthrone]

So, in a very brief aside when you mentioned the spoke-and-wheel model for King's Landing. You also mentioned public housing in flea bottom, sewer and water systems, and public hospitals. I'm a little curious, what would that look like in a medieval setting? How would a system with a less developed administrative system handle public housing?

Administratively, it would be a lot simpler than our modern public/social housing system. It would probably look more like charity housing than a state system that provides comprehensive services above and beyond a roof over one's head, but it could be done in the period.

This is the Fuggerei, the world's oldest continually-operating public housing that dates back to 1514. A 52-unit walled complex, these apartment buildings were a charitable donation by the famous Fugger banking family (it's good to be the personal bankers to the Hapsburgs when the Holy Roman Emperor doesn't quite understand international arbitrage in silver prices) to the poor people of Augsberg, Bavaria.

Eligibility criteria hasn't changed: in order to be eligible, residents must be living in poverty but not have debts, they must have lived in Augsburg for two years, and they must be Catholics. Likewise, rents haven't changed much: residents of the Fuggerei pay one Rhenish gulden (roughly 1 euro) a year, must say the Lord's Prayer, a Hail Mary, and the Nicene Creed once per day for the souls of the Fugger family, and must work at least part time.

So that's what public housing in Flea Bottom might look like.

[game-of-style]

Queen Margaery in mourning - Jean Paul Gaultier Couture Fall 2023