#Rhaena Velaryon

[soncee]

Baela an Rhaena (tap for better quality)

Might start commisions soon🫣

[giallo4ver]

Yes.

[matcha-mix]

Dragonstone Baela and Vale Rhaena

[scarareg]

HOTD idea of feminism is:

Do everything your father says and wishes you to do

If a man forced you into marriage, raped you, and then ignored you and your children, you have to be grateful and kind to him, praise him after his death and fullfil every wish he ever had, even if it at the expense of your or your family's well-being. If you don't do this, you are the worst kind of human being

Be ok with your husband cheating on you

Black female characters are interchangeable

If you grandpa offers you a position of power, you should reject it and simply be a man's wife

Delete or minimize the screentime for female characters who make a pedophile look like a bad person

A woman should not mourn her children. Moreover, she should help the man who ordered the killing of her children

Any lesbian/bisexual women who is not a white Targaryen princess should not have much screen time or even exist in the story

[artist-ellen]

Rhaena Targaryen

Since the time skip has happened, Rhaena and her twin Baela have grown into older teens/young adults (the show is very vague and inconsistent with the ages of the children characters. It's very funny to see the 24 yr old actors vs 12 year olds and being told they have all aged 6 years). The pink has deepened to a more red variation. The center-belt decoration has moved to the side (raise your hand if you remember Cersei's designs, are the connections between the series recognizable?) with plenty of pearls and teals for House Velyaron. We also have the long sleeves that Laena styled.

I am the artist! Do not post without permission & credit! Thank you! Come visit me over on: instagram, tiktok or check out my coloring book available now \ („• ֊ •„) /

https://linktr.ee/ellen.artistic

[ladydreamfyyreee]

𝐋𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 💔🥺

𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 : 𝐳𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

[spacerockfloater]

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m no fan of Rhaena’s character and I am upset that she’s replacing Nettles, but the way Team Black is treating her is disgusting.

Like, this may shock you people, but this parentified child clearly expressed that she has no interest in playing house with her step-siblings, nor could she possibly offer actual help in case they required it. They have maids and soldiers to protect them. What could she do to aid them any further? And what’s crazy is that she’s still fighting for her family! She’s adding a whole ass dragon to their army! She’s much more helpful this way than she would have been if she went away with the kids. Y’all say you want women in power until a woman chooses to go against Rnaenyra’s direct wishes and follows her own path in life. You truly don’t give a fuck about women. You only liked this girl when she was suffering.

Rhaenyra treats her stepdaughters like absolute dogshit. Marries their father a couple of weeks after their mother’s death. Robs them of their inheritance. Uses Baela as a disposable scout and weapon, prioritising Jace’s life over hers. Sends Rhaena to exile and makes her responsible for the wellbeing of her kids, not to mention that she tasks her with swaying Lady Jeyne to their side and covering up for the fact that she did not keep her end of the deal which was providing the Vale with a dragon to protect them.

Let this girl breathe, damn. She’s doing something for herself for once! After years of being dragon-less and neglected by her own father, seen as unworthy and living in the shadow of her sister, she can shine a little bit. And she’s doing it all for her family!

Oh and by the way, your snide remarks about her expressions and how she looks are not fooling anyone. Yeah, the costume department is not doing her any favours, but we all know what you mean. Fucking racists.

[feminist-cult-following]

it’s honestly very frustrating to try and see people paint alicent as some sort of karen and rhaenyra as some sort of feminist icon. newsflash: none of the women in this show are feminists. AND THAT IS OKAY!! we’re looking at a story that predates those sort of progressive ideals and it’s not fair to hold either character to such a modern standard.

rhaenyra is out for herself and for her own claim, she’s not fighting for the right of all women to sit the iron throne. this is pretty clearly spelled out for us when she tells rhaenys that baela and jacerys’ sons will inherit the iron throne. but this isn’t a criticism of rhaenyra, she’s a woman living in an incredibly oppressive time, and while it could make for a great story, it should not be her responsibility to fight for the hypothetical claims of other women. as the the legitimate heir to the throne, her only concern should be fighting to take back her crown from the usurper.

as for alicent, she can really only cling to two things: duty/honor and trying to protect her children. her whole life has been nothing but miserable. losing her mother, being pawned off to viserys by her own father, being forced to have four children while she was still a child herself. and in the aftermath of all this, she’s lost her best friend and one true love. so of course she’s bitter and resentful, and of course she’s so preoccupied with duty. all she’s done since she was 14 years old is give and give, and it’s been rotten, thankless work.

it’s pretty easy to understand why both of these women are the way they are, and to acknowledge their deep complexity. sometimes it feels like people are being willfully obtuse in order to stay loyal to their respective “teams”, and I know it’s not that deep and the end of the day, but it’s still very frustrating.

[gothgleek]

Baela and Rhaena Targaryen, The Dragon Twins

[malewifedaemon]

Daemon in ep 2: I don't need kids

Daemon in ep 8: I am the proudest dad in the universe! My kids are going to marry each other!

[dahliarosebud]

- Love Is A war Series ~ Aemond x Reader

• Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

• HOTD MASTER-LIST

• FANDOMS-MASTER-LIST

Warnings: nail biting, mentioned war, conflict, hinted abuse, mentioned grief/just grief, mentioning of funerals

Synopsis: After bending the knee, Rhaenyra is now your Queen. You have made your bed, but the question still lies whether you will lie in it or just ruffle the sheets. All the while your father - Daemon - is quick to jump into war.

------------

It was beautiful. You had to admit. The way the orange illuminated under the table. The way the cold room warmed from the fire after the biting cold of outside which the stone never truly kept out.  

I stood beside Baela awaiting Rhaenyra, my heart thumped with every impending echoey footstep that haunted the halls. I was not afraid. No. More in awe, in a sense, to see a woman sit the throne or will sit the throne. It was breathtaking. That was the true beauty. 

The orange glow was hers. Her castle. Her council. Her crown. Her throne. Her war table.  

But our war. 

I bowed my head as my father's voice rang through as he listed Rhaenyra's titles. They swam in my head - so surreal. Rhaenyra stepped forward, honking metal following until she fell short, the men only one toe behind. None of them blinked. A warning. The unsettling feeling of unbatting-eyed clunking metal men behind you, are all too familiar. But they listened to her. Their Queen. 

They stepped back some and remained in place.  

I watched as Rhaena moved forward cup in hand, "Wine my Queen." Rhaenyra seemed unsettled, hesitating to take the cup, but still my mother's smile lay perfect on my little sister's face. 

"Thank you, Rhaena." Her voice was still soft. Mothering. "Come." 

Rhaenyra continued her path forward with Rhaena a step behind her before she turned to Baela nodding for her to follow with a small gentle smile as her eyes met mine. Baela looked at our grandsire for permission before moving in step just a short pace behind. They all gathered around the table.  

I moved closer to Rhaenys. 

It was silent. For a minute. Nothing, but crashing waves and flittering ocean breeze. All eyes remained on the Queen. Awaiting judgement. Awaiting anything at all.  

"What is our standing?" The only place she seemed to be able to look was at my father.  

"We have thirty knights, one hundred and three hundred men-at-arms. Dragonstone is relatively easy to defend, but as an instrument of conquest, our army leaves a lot to be desired..." my father's voice seemed to drone on, but all I could hear still were his silent cries on the beach. Mournful cries. So similar. Like those I cried at my mother's funeral.  

Strange how age doesn't influence grief. Just the person who was lost. 

I watched as Jace placed pieces onto the board. Each house which has (so far) rallied to our side. "Lord Boris Baratheon will need to be reminded of his father's promises." Rhaenyra's voice carried and silence followed.  

I looked to the floor. The way my dress skirted across my shoes. The clinking of metal against wood was loud. Like when Aegon used to whack at Aemond's wooden sword with his steel one. I jumped as the Queen's voice flowed in my direction. 

"What news from Driftmark?" I raised my head to look at my grandmother. Her head remained high, her shoulders back. She emanated confidence. Embodied it even. I followed suit. 

It was unnerving how Rhaenyra's eyes bore into what almost felt the space in-between. Unwavering. "Lord Corlys sails to Dragonstone."  

Her voice was soft compared to my father's biting tone, "To declare for his Queen." Confidence never wavered between the two of them. It was clear to anyone here that they had never seen eye to eye.  

No addressing my father, "The Velaryon fleet is in my husband's yoke. He decides where they sail." Her voice was steady, soft and calm. Despite my father's glaring from the head of the table. 

"We shall pray for both you and your husband's support. Just as we prayed nightly for the Sea Snake's return to good health," Rhaenys looked down and swallowed as Rhaenyra's words sat on her shoulders, "There's no port on the Narrow Sea would dare to make an enemy of the Velaryon fleet." Rhaenyra turned away. 

I studied my grandmother's face. Stoic, but with a small smile. Pride? Jealousy? One would not know until it falls from the lips that stayed purse on the face of a woman who should have been. She turned slightly to look me in my eyes. I smiled softly at her. Her lips remained unmoving. Permanent. Unwavering.  

Unlike loyalty it seems.  

"Pray forgive my bluntness, Your Grace, but talk of men is moot. Your cause owns a power that has not been seen in this world since the days of Old Valyria. Dragons." Silence once again cut. Deep and harsh.  

"The Greens have dragons as well," Rhaenyra seemed nervous as she rang her hands.  

"They have three adults, by my count," my father cut in, "We have Syrax, Caraxes, and Meleys." Rhaenys tilted her head. "Your sons have Vermax, Arrax, and Tyraxes. Baela has Moondancer and Y/n has Selene." I bit the inside of my cheek.  

"Daemon. None of our dragons have been to war," Rhaenyra's tone seemed final. 

Yet, my father persisted. "There are also unclaimed dragons. Seasmoke still resides on Driftmark. Vermithor and Silverwing dwell on the Dragonmont, still riderless." I looked over to Rhaena. She looked nervous as she watched my father, "Then there are the three wild dragons, all. of whom nest here." 

"And who is to ride them?" 

I turned away to the sound of slapping feet on stone. Erryk moved to meet him. A messenger. A harbinger of sorts. "...surround King's Landing with the dragons. And we could have every Green head mounted one spikes before the fucking moon turns." 

"Your Grace. A ship has been sighted offshore: a lone galleon, flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon," I felt my blood run cold and my mouth sour. Sweat began to prickle on my skin.  

"Alert the watchtowers. Sight the skies," my eyes trailed after my father. He seemed at home, interwoven with chaos. The blue in his veins. Rhaenyra remained.  

------------ 

I stood in the middle of the mass. I could see the top of my father's head pacing as he awaited the opposition. My chest squeezed in distaste as Otto Hightower came into view, his own men - his grandson's men - his daughter's men trailing behind him.  

Otto stopped just far enough that he'd still be able to hear over the waves, the sun painting an orange sky behind him. Ember-ed fire. "I come at the behest of the Dowager Queen Alicent, mother of King Aegon, Second of His Name, Lord and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms. I've been directed to deliver her message only to Princess Rhaenyra. Where is the princess?" 

I smiled a little at the familiar screech of Syrax as the beat of wings flew overhead. Rhaenyra circled Otto and his men as they all looked up, bodies twisting to follow her movements. And in the setting sun you could proudly see the glowing gold that sat upon her head. She landed behind the knights who all turned quickly as they leaned back as Syrax bellowed from where she is perched on the ledge.  

They all parted as she walked down the middle, head held high. Her silver hair swayed gently as she came to stand next to my father. Otto stared after her, his mouth slightly ajar. "Princess Rhaenyra." 

"I'm Queen Rhaenyra now." She did not waver. My gaze drifted to see my father staring at her before my eyes fell back onto her, "And you are all traitors to the realm." 

"King Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name...in his wisdom and desire for peace..." Syrax gently gurgled and snapped her jaws "...is offering terms." I rolled my eyes. Aegon can hardly get a sentence out over his blubbering. Were these Aegon's terms or his mother's? 

"Acknowledge Aegon as King and swear obeisance before the Iron Throne. In exchange, His Grace will confirm your possession of Dragonstone. It will pass to your true born son, Jacaerys, upon your death. Lucerys will be confirmed as the legitimate heir to Driftmark and all the lands and holdings of House Velaryon." I could see my father growing restless as he shifted from one foot to another. 

"Your sons by Prince Daemon will also be given places of high honor at court: Aegon the Younger as the King's squire, Viserys as his cupbearer," my tongue kissed at my teeth. My little brother's cupbearers, practically servants to a drunken man who calls himself King while his mother practically sits the throne for him, "Finally, his King, in his good grace, will pardon any knight or lord who conspired against his ascent." Otto's voice grew rough as he got louder. 

No one moved. And I didn't dare breathe, scared to make sound or the tiniest movement. "I would rather feed my sons to the dragons than have them carry shield and cups for your drunken usurper cunt of a King." I chewed at the sore spot of my cheek to keep from laughing. 

"Aegon Targaryen sits the Iron Throne. He wears the Conqueror's crown, wields the conqueror's sword, has the conqueror's name." And still a man pretending to be someone he's not. Like a child playing dress up before her being caught by one of her Septa's. "He was anointed by a sexton of the Faith before the eye of thousands. Every symbol of legitimacy belongs to him." 

I felt a pit form, ready to gather dread, at the bottom of my stomach as Otto began to list Noble Houses who are all considering siding with the Greens. With Aemond. "Stole oaths will not put you on the throne princess," Otto moved forward and the Queen's Guard all moved, ready to draw their swords. Awaiting the words. 

Ready for warm crimson to drip from the cold edge.  

I fell back from the mass as Rhaenyra moved forward as I turned to make my way back inside the castle. "Fucking traitor," rained out across the loud as Syrax once again gurgled. I turned to see the Hand's Pin flung into the crashing sea below.  

I felt content.  

I hurried up the winding walk, my hands picked up the skirt of dress so I could move faster. Syrax's agitated roar called behind me just as I made it through the doors where two men allowed me in. I raced through the courtyard to where people still battled in quiet corners of their own, before the doors were opened to allow me in.  

I retraced my steps back to my chambers. The fire was dim, casting dancing shadows all around, for my eyes to trace as I removed my cloak. Allowing it to pool to the floor. Quickly I made my way back to the war room. 

------------ 

I stood in the spot I was previously watching my father's and Rhaenyra's argument unfold. Rhaenyra doesn't want to rule over "ash and bone" and still my father does not, will not offer her such luxury. It is clear he lives through her. He wishes it was his head haloed by a golden crown. But alas it is not.  

My father all but marched to stand in front of the fireplace. The whole room was set alight, my father's shadow cast small across the table, but still large enough to loom. 

"Clear the room." Simultaneously, everyone made their way out. Rhaenyra still staring at my father. Neither have moved from their current positions. My father's chest is heaving with anger. Like that night. 

I fell into step with Jace and Luke. "Hello," I greeted both, kindly, awkwardly. Jace stared at my face before turning away and walking up ahead, Luke turned to offer me a smile before quickening his pace to walk with his brother once again. I stopped as knights and men and the Maester weaved around me as I watched the two boys walk away.  

This is what it is to mourn a friendship rather than someone individually. The hairs on the back of my neck raised as I felt a hand press on my left shoulder, my hand moving to grab the handle of my dagger. "It is just me sweet girl," I felt the tension ease, but my shoulders ache. Everything aches. 

I smiled a tired smile. Only now I realize why Rhaenys’ is so familiar. It’s the same. 

------------ 

I paced in front of my - now reignited - fireplace. My dress was uncomfortable with the way it rubbed against my collar bones. My thumb nail had started to bleed as the skin around it is tared and snagged at by my clenched teeth. My eyes are turned down watching my fast and careful repetitive steps. My stomach lurched with dizziness.  

I stopped to look at the exposed steel of my sword that rested on the chest at the foot of my bed. The mirror like metal glittered orange licks of fire. I sucked gently at my wounded thumb before dropping it to my side and grabbing the arm with my other hand. An insecure sense of security that could break with simple rejection. 

I turned to the soft knock at my door. I sucked in an aching breath before walking forward. Scoldingly freezing iron grasped in my hand as I released my breath. I pulled the door open. My heart stuttered in my chest with surprise. Having half expected my father or Rhaenys, but neither stand in my door. Instead Jacaerys stands in their place. A welcome, nerve-racking sight. 

“Jace,” I breathed as he pushed past me, “what are you doing here?” The question felt foreign in my mouth, my back turned to him as I softly shut my door with a quiet ‘clunk’. 

“Why?” 

I stopped, my hand still on the metal doorknob, “What?” 

“I just want to know why him? Out of everyone why him?” His voice seemed far and yet; I could feel his eyes so close. I could practically feel his breath on the back of my neck. My skin itched. I wanted to scratch it raw. 

I pressed my forehead to the wood and squeezed my eyes shut, “it’s simple really,” I opened my eyes to brown before turning to see the younger stood where I was pacing moments ago, “I love him. I always have.” 

“And yet you bent the knee.” 

“And yet I bent the knee.” 

“Why?” 

I huffed at his constant questions, but he deserved an answer. A reason rather than an excuse. I walked towards him, were ye level now. How strange. I remember when he was shorter. How he was so small. How quiet and high his voice was. But here he is all grown up in front of my eyes and still I blinked, and I missed it. 

“Because Jace, my duty and honor lie with family rather than love that can easily be lost as easily as it was found, and yet still...” I paused trying to swallow around the lump in my throat. 

“Still?” he questioned his eyes watching my face for anything. Anything at all. 

“Still, I love him despite everything. I still yearn for him. I know that you know that feeling all too well. Wanting something you can’t have that is.” 

His face bloomed red, “I don’t know what you speak of.” 

“I was there you know. I saw how you looked at Haelena when you danced together, but that’s all it can be, a look. Anything else is dangerous, jeopardizing. As you have seen,” my voice fell tight at the end. My bones ached for Aemond and still my chest stirred with unease. “Do not worry Jace you will make for a wonderful husband for my sister, I have no doubt.” 

He nodded as he looked down at his shoes. I smiled. I have missed Aemond, but all the while I had never realized how much I have missed this. Missed my siblings. “Get some rest, we will both need some for tomorrow.” 

I escorted him out, my head peeking out the gap as his silhouette faded into the black of the hall. 

----------

TAGS:

@callsignwidow

[fearmakess]

👯‍♀️

[sanriowendigo]

Pretty girls 🫡

[matcha-mix]

Kinda gave up on this one… hands are to hard

[whateverthought]

You know what, Lesbian Beam

Baela goes to Winterfell because Jacaerys has to participate in the War Room and has a Doomed by the Narritive love story with Sara Snow

Helaena helps in taking Harrenel for revenge against Daemon and respite from her grief, and as she meets Alys, realizes the woman in her visions is real, visions Alys has also had, and as their eyes meet they have a Soulmates First Meeting

Rhaena assists with the dragonseeds, meets this infuriating woman named Nettles, and goes with them looking for Aemond+Vhager then Enemies to Lovers/Opposites Attracts falls in love before running away together

Fuck you Ryan Condal and Fuck you Sara Hess, Stop Cutting Out Women

[pockeymcmockey]

𝔄𝔫 𝔈𝔶𝔢 𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔄𝔫 𝔈𝔶𝔢 | ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

Summary: After Aemond takes the eye of his niece as revenge, he realizes he's made a mistake he may never get to fix...

Warnings: Angst, violence, blood, major injuries, ages follow the show and not the book, Reader goes by female pronouns, reader is the only child of Rhaenyra and Daemon, conceived during the brothel scene, cute matching moment between Aemond and Reader.

Author's Note: This is the edited version whereas I realized the original did not build as much of a relationship between Aemond and Reader as I would've liked. I hope this is much better to read!

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 ℑ | 𝔑𝔢𝔵𝔱 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱

A belching roar echoed throughout the stone walkway. Aemond's hand clutched the eye Lucerys attacked using his brother's dagger. Jacaerys stared with wide eyes at his uncle, whom was yet to react in any other way except sob for his missing eye. Guards and handmaidens rushed in at the gargling cry that intruded the quiet halls. Princess [Name] stood, frozen in horror at the act her younger brother has committed.

As the children were gathered in the King's chambers, Rhaenyra and Laenor were quick in their steps to reach their own children. Laenor checked on the boys while Rhaenyra sought out any scars upon her eldest's skin, only to find her unscathed. Rhaenyra held her daughter to her chest and turned to face her father and the Queen.

"What has happened? Why are my children scared out of their minds?" Rhaenyra breathed heavily, scared out of her own mind, worried about her children ending up as corpses one day. This wouldn't be the first time she found herself defending her children, finding that Alicent quite enjoyed trying to push punishment on them, especially her boys.

"Is this how you raise your children, Princess?" Alicent antagonized the Targaryen Princess with mocking words. "Allowing them to strike their own kin because of a beast?" The Queen narrowed her eyes at her former best friend, holding her youngest child close to her chest much like Rhaenyra. Aemond, while in his mother's hold, wouldn't take his stare off of his niece. She was older than him by two years, same age as his older brother, only months apart.

Aemond always had quite the strong feelings for his niece. Since he could remember she was always in the background, braiding his hair, sewing his clothes, fighting his battles. She was a gift from the gods to him. But he didn't want her to fight his battles. In fact, he almost resented her for thinking he was too weak to fight for himself. That resentment bubbled up into hatred, and he could think of nothing but.

Princess Rhaenyra, heir to the Iron Throne, sent her boys back to their respective bedrooms before checking once more that her daughter was unharmed. The younger Princess kept her apologizing gaze on Aemond, brows furrowed and a frown evident on her lips. Her eyes said "I'm sorry" but Aemond could only see pity, blinded by the hatred he grew to have for the girl.

Princess [Name] Targaryen, First of Her Name, returned to her bedchambers to sleep off the frightful events of the night. She found herself having trouble falling into slumber, fluffing up her pillow did not serve to alleviate her insomnia. Out of options—and patience—the princess asked for a bath to be prepared. When the white, pristine tub was displayed in front of her and the handmaids assigned to her aided in her undressing, [Name] sunk into the scolding water that would boil any other man.

The Princess dismissed her handmaidens, wanting isolated time to think upon what has transpired. Silence filled her chambers until a creak of her wooden door alerted her of someone's presence. Aemond stood with his hands behind his back in a defensive stance. His expression was one of true spite, vengeful, even. Before the princess knew what was coming to her, a scar was plastered on her left eye.

Blood slowly seeped out of the jagged wound slashed across her eye. The Princess held a trembling hand over it but the blood kept pouring. She used the undamaged eye in her possession to look up at her uncle, he wore the face of a boy who'd kill for his own greed. He was unfazed by the tears welding up in his niece's eye, or how she whispered his name repeatedly, asking him why he would do such a thing.

"An eye for an eye." Is all he spoke before storming out of her bedchambers to hide in his room. The Princess stood in the tub, droplets of translucency rolling down her figure and back into the mahogany puddle of blood. She used one hand to wrap herself in a robe while the other tried and failed to keep any more blood from spilling out. During her fiasco of dressing as appropriately as she could, Jacaerys and Lucerys both charged into her room.

"Seven Hells!" Lucerys cursed, earning an elbow nudge from his older brother. "What happened to you?" The youngest finally asked. Before the Princess could answer, their mother walked through, wondering why her children were still up. When she saw the damage made to her daughter's eye, the heir lost her resolve and sent a guard for her father.

When the King and Queen enter the Princess' chambers, they both find horrified expressions upon their faces. Rhaenyra sits beside her daughter, holding her protectively as Daemon checks his daughter's eye to see just how much damage his nephew caused. When the Rogue Prince was complete with his task of scanning his daughter, he turned to his brother and the Queen.

"That little cunt of yours blinded my daughter, brother." Daemon rested his weight on his sword, the Dark Sister, before speaking up again, "I'm sure he won't mind being a cripple for the rest of his life. I'll make sure he's still able to use his arms." Daemon chuckled at his own jest. The King raised a hand and shook his crown-bearing head, scolding his younger brother for speaking in such manners, about his own nephew at such.

"I'll personally have a talk with my own son if that's alright with you, dear brother?" Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andal, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm and Prince of Dragonstone, slouched toward his granddaughter. The two Targaryens, Grandsire and granddaughter, had quite a close relationship. Since she was born Viserys has done nothing but spoil her. She had the best than her own brothers.

Rhaenyra asked her father to step outside the chambers with her to discuss the issue at hand. The heir offered to leave for Dragonstone, feeling as the Red Keep is no longer safe for her children anymore. Viserys reluctantly agreed, wanting nothing but safety for his daughter and grandchildren. The Princess Rhaenyra calmly walked back inside the bedchambers of her oldest child, born full Targaryen with platinum hair and violet eyes that could pierce any mans heart with just a look.

The Targaryen heir and her children headed for Dragonstone that night. Just before leaving, [Name] caught the eyes of Aemond whom heard his parents quarrelling about his stunt this evening. Her gown blew behind her from the evening breeze and her hair that glistened like snow under the moonlight made her much better to admire from afar. Aemond looked away and to his hands, clenching them to where his growing finger nails left crescent stab wounds in his palms.

That night, the King and his wife, Alicent Hightower, berated Aemond for committing such a heinous act. The King more visibly upset about it than the Queen, whose only hope was that her son's recklessness wouldn't get him in too much trouble one of these days. Aemond spent the rest of his hours of the night wallowing in regret, knowing he mistook his hatred for Lucerys as his hatred for [Name], acting out on her instead of his attacker.

•⚔•

𝕾𝖎𝖝 𝖞𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗...

The Princess [Name], given the title "The Princess of Vanity and Vengeance" for her breathtaking Targaryen beauty and the relentless fist she pounds into her enemies. On this day, the princess bares an eyepatch over her eye, hiding the consequence of her moment of weakness. Of course, no one would blame her, she was just a young girl, but the older princess, the one who pierced armour and led armies, would not allow herself to be seen as such any longer.

The eyepatch she wears reminds her of her biggest failure. Failing to protect her family and herself. Would things be different if she had told on her brother? Would she still have her eye? Questions she asks herself everyday hoping she'd somehow, someway, come up with the answer. But for now, she will head to the Red Keep with her parents and brothers. Being the only daughter, and the oldest at that, came with many challenges as men were more hesitant to listen to her than if it were her brother Jacaerys or even Lucerys.

Riding in on dragon-back, [Name] lands her dragon, Llanerion in the center of the courtyard, announcing her presence through actions. The white-bellied, blue scaled dragon shook the grime off his scales and allowed guards to lead him to the Dragonpit. As the Targaryen family entered the Keep, Rhaenyra and Daemon split up, heading toward the King's chambers. The children were made aware of the King's illness but do not know the extent of it which is best left unsaid.

Jacaerys called for his brother and sister to join him on the training grounds, wanting to get some practice in if he is to be King someday. [Name] was offered the role of heir by her mother but has denied that privilege, only wanting to live alongside the King or Queen as a warrior fighting for her people. Her mother had never been more proud of her.

The Princess [Name] noticed a crowd of men circling two others but paid them no mind, offering her helping services to her brother who gladly accepted, knowing his sister was one of the best sword fighters in Westeros. The two eldest children of Rhaenyra stood at attention, their swords crossed in an 'X' position, readying for a match. As their swords began to clink and slice against one another, the attention of the men surrounding Aemond and Ser Criston were redirected to the heir's kin.

[Name] ducked under the blade of her brother and kicked at his calf, knocking him off balance and bringing her sword around to dig into his neck just a bit. "If you are to be King someday, you must know how to outsmart your opponent, Jace." The princess offered her advice to the boy on the receiving end of her blade. Jacaerys huffed and took the hand of his sister who helped him up.

Applause startled the princess when she turned around, only to find the matching eye of her uncle staring at her with an expression unreadable. She glared swords at him and sheathed her own into its holster, climbing the cobble stairs from the training grounds to the halls of the Red Keep. Lucerys and Jacaerys noticed the longing gaze their uncle gave their sister and they followed her actions, narrowing their eyes at the man who ruined their sister's life.

Aemond returned to his chambers after training, removing his eyepatch, noticing how the loss of the eyepatch did little to repair his vision. He smirked at his remembrance of his niece with an eyepatch as well, giving her the benefit of looking almost unnoticeable to the prince. But Aemond knows her eyes, he knows her lips and he wishes he knew her touch but he allowed anger and revenge to cloud his mind. He ruined what he could've had with her and now he may never get another chance.

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