#Rhaena Velaryon

[cyeco13]

Rhaena and Aemond 💗✨️

[soncee]

Baela an Rhaena (tap for better quality)

Might start commisions soon🫣

[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

[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.

[ladydreamfyyreee]

𝐋𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 💔🥺

𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 : 𝐳𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

[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

[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

[henriettadreaming]

I really don't understand the writer's reasoning for race swapping the Velaryon's, when every Velaryon is mistreated or cast aside by the all white Targaryen's. Literally everyone of them.

• Corlys - Is apparently so selfish he's willing to disregard all of his blood related family to put a white boy that is no relation to him on his ancestral seat just because he carries his last name? Even though there's plenty of other actual Velaryon's that carry the Velaryon name.

• Vaemond - Gets murdered for telling the truth, and not wanting Driftmark to go to someone who isn't a true Velaryon. I think they only added him calling Rhaenyra a whore after calling her son's bastards to try and make his death justifiable, as if calling someone a bad name = off with his head.

• Laena - Is married to Daemon but knows that she isn't his first choice, and if he had his way he'd be with his (white) niece. Is stuck by his side in Pentos even though he knows she wants to return home. Supposedly dies a *badass* dragon rider death, but I just saw a pregnant black woman dying in agony. Like that doesn't already happen in real life when black women are four times more likely to die in childbirth.

• Laenor - The cuckold of all cuckolds. In almost every scene of adult Laenor he's completely miserable. And apparently he too is willing to disregard all his trueborn family to put a white boy that isn't his on the Driftmark throne. And I don't find Rhaenyra to be some great LGBTQ ally by "letting" Laenor run away and permanently leave his home and family behind so he can be with his partner and she can remarry.

• Baela and Rhaena - Have actual Velaryon blood through their mother, get passed over so another white boy can get something he has no entitlement too. Baela would have had a slim chance of ending up queen because even if Rhaenyra became queen, the lords of Westeros would have been very unlikely to accept an illegitimate son as her heir. Rhaena could become lady of Driftmark but only as a consort through Luke, meaning if he died her claim to Driftmark would die with him.

I'm all for diversity and representation, but was the family who consistently gets walked all over the best choice to make POC?

I think they were aiming for liberal and inclusive, but that doesn't really work when your white characters use and exploit the black characters you've purposely made black.

[alicentswife1]

•.*•𒀭•.•*. Rhaena Targaryen as Athena the Goddess of wisdom, strategy and combat, crafts and manual work.