#Visenya never gets to be a woman

[duchess-of-oldtown]

Visenya and Ronnel Arryn is something so precious to me, but it often gets me thinking what she was thinking when she found Ronnel alone in the courtyard. Did she see just a little boy amazed by a stranger and her dragon? Did she see Aegon at that age? Did she imagine a son of hers in the future? Was it strategy or just maternal or big sister instincts kicking in? Because Visenya could have taken the Eyrie as a show of strength and reminded the world of fire and blood. Perhaps that was the plan. But she changed her mind. She chose kindness.

[councilofcastamere]

WINTER NIGHTS | CREGAN STARK X TARG!READER ꧂

a b r i d g e m e n t : With tensions rising, your elder half-sister Rhaenyra arranges for you to seek asylum in the freezing land of the North. And fortunately for you, Cregan is there to show you how Northmen operate.

TW: penetration, loss of virginity, breeding kink, mentions gender roles but in a sexy way, sexual tension, sibling jealousy, childhood neglect, mentions of death by birth, shitty character development

A/N: I know the girly portrayed is Visenya but her body is tea in this so maybe I do know best…

The second daughter. The oh-so passed over maiden. Not belonging to anything, nor belonging to nothing. Not the first, and not the last. An ever enduring memory to a passed over era. Nothing significant. Never anything significant.

That’s what you were. Insignificance. A beautiful insignificance, if you could see beauty in tragedy. Beauty in all the ways of life. All the little horrible things that make up a big, beautiful, picture. People shan’t look close, you’d assure yourself.

But you were you. Born to the everlasting way of royal life. To the peaceful Viserys, and his second wife, a woman whose name is not all that important. Another maiden from a noble house that perished to childbirth. Lost her life, giving life.

And as it did not to many maidens, the Gods did not grant you the chance to grow up with your mother. The blood that dripped down her thighs had covered you from head to toe as you came into existence, and she had naught of you in her arms before a deep and long slumber overcame her. The stranger had come for her, and he did not slow down on its way. He’d taken her as quick as she’d given you to the world. A quick exchange, you’d suppose.

Now and then you think about her. What she might have looked like, what she might have liked, what she might have been had she survived the wretched burden of your existence. You’d often wonder if infants who survived childbirth ever felt as deep a burden as she did. To have your very first breath of life tainted with the death of an innocent. Tainted with tragedy.

Growing up in King’s Landing hadn’t been all that as it sounded. You’d never really been that happy, as ungracious as it sounded.

You had an older sister - Rhaenyra - who’d occasionally humoured you. You’d never seen much of her, really. Perhaps it was your own fault as well. For not actively seeking her out. For not being the younger sister one was supposed to be. Some people - as close to you as they may be - are just unattainable in your mind. Your kin aren’t your kin until you allow it.

You have better companions than her, you figured. You had your lady-in-waitings. Lady Vievenne of house Swann. Lady Laycie of house Oldflowers. Lady Claere of house Ambrose. Lady Evelyne of house Hightower, who was, by all accounts, a gift from your newest stepmother, Alicent of the house Hightower.

What you also had was younger siblings. Such as Aegon. Though he is naught but a skirt enthusiast, swimming along the sea of young maidens at his whim. But he cares not whether they are, does he?

And oh, do not get yourself started on the one-eyed prince and that smug little smile on his sharp-featured face. Nonetheless, he was gentle. Oh so gentle with his touch. And oh so sinister in the way that made you feel important enough to be in his good graces.

However, you chose to distance yourself from all parties involved as fate made it clear what it had in store. A great slap to the great Targaryen dynasty. A dark cloud looming over the already curse-clad clan.

For even you knew that the only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon, was itself.

“Sister.” you greeted one late evening, having taken flight to Dragonstone on your she-dragon, Starfyre. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“…y/n.” the elder sister called out, a small smile on her lips. “I… am glad for your visit.”

“…I’m certain you are,” you say, trying with all your might to contain a frown.

You eyed her awkwardly as she wiped her sweaty hands off her dress, letting out a sigh as the elder royal wasn’t quite certain how to approach the topic.

“I… understand… things quite haven’t been… that active, in our kinship,” Rhaenyra speaks up, taking a step closer. “And for that, I apologise.”

You could only nod, a small smile gracing your lips at the heartwarming confession of absent love.

“I apologise, also.” you smiled, your hands finding each other behind your back. “I suppose I should have been the one to seek your company and counsel as well.”

“Good.” Rhaenyra smiled awkwardly, a silence engulfing the echo-ridden chambers. “The reason, as to why I called you, might be surprising.”

You froze slightly, heart pounding as the possibilities of implications travelled through your mind. The goosebumps on your arms grew more prominent as a cold breeze passed through.

“Oh?” you answered, cocking a brow. “And what might that be, sister?”

“I ask of you to travel to the North,” Rhaenyra admits, a tone of seriousness overshadowing the warm moment. “I have already sent a raven to Lord Cregan Stark, and he has agreed to host you. If it pleases you, of course.”

No answer came out of your lips, save for your a mere breath. You felt a pang in your heart, consuming your every emotion, making certain you cannot detect how you feel about the news.

A dragon in the north? What a jest. You’d do better in Dorne, surrounded by sun-kissed squires and stable boys than laddish lordlings and Northern butchers.

“And… why should I?” you asked, respect in your tone. “Pardon me, my sister, but why have you made this decision for me?”

“Tensions are rising, y/n. You know that as well as I do.” Rhaenyra sighs, her body language giving up on its tense posture. “And I am aware of your… complex feelings on it. But to the North you must. I’m sending Rhaena to the Va-”

“Yes, because Rhaena gets to be hosted by a relative of yours, in safety. Meanwhile you sent me off to some Northern stranger!”

“Y/n.” Rhaenyra warned, raising a brow. She took a step closer as you composed your words. “You are my sister, and I will have you safe in the North. The Northmen are honourable men, and in time you’ll know.”

✫彡

And so you were, clad in thick fur, lady Vivenne and lady Evelyne at both sides of yourself. Across from you sat three servants, and somewhere else sat your sworn shield.

“It will be splendid.” Evelyne beamed, properly adjusting her hair, tied up in a bun, similar to the ones the older maidens wear. “We shall meet every dusk, and speak about our day. In front of the fire.”

“Not if I can help it.” you sighed softly. “Apologies, my ladies, but I’ll let you two get at it. I’d love to explore the North in solitude.”

“Right…” Vivenne nodded, looking through the small peep holes as the carriage slowed down, just outside the gates of Winterfell. “We’ve arrived, I suppose. You’ll have to greet Lord Stark. If he’s anything we’ve heard of and more, I wish you luck.”

You only nodded, watching as your ladies exited the carriage, standing at the side of the door. Their faces are cast down, as if in mourning. Perhaps they’re mourning the life of luxury provided at King’s Landing.

You could not blame them for it, really. From growing up in their own house, to growing up in the Royal house, to trade it again to live to see the snowy winters of Winterfell.

You shook slightly, the cold air hitting your face in an instant as you slightly lifted your dress, taking a step out of the three provided for the carriage.

You looked ahead of you, eyes locking on the noblemen and women, standing straight and proud. The women bore clothes of low quality, so obviously sewn to fit any class. The men wore dark furs, contrasting to the blue clothing of the opposite sex.

And in the midst of it, stood Cregan Stark, accompanied by a mere little boy of just two years of age. Your eyes locked upon his stormy-grey ones, his face etched into a stern expression, eyes focused on yours.

You maintained the eye contact, taking each step closer to him.

“Princess Y/N.” Cregan greeted formally, taking your soft hand in his. “Welcome to Winterfell. I am Lord Cregan Stark.”

“Thank you, Lord Stark.” you smile, curtsying in a fashionable manner. Your eyes stood glued on his as his lips brushed against the palm of your hand. “I’m truly honoured to be here.”

“…I’m certain you are.” Cregan answered, eyeing you skeptically.

Hearing false compliments wasn’t out of the ordinary for the wolf of Winterfell. He knew well enough that you weren’t suited for the North. You were a Southern lady, used to the life of feasts, luxury, and sparkly dresses.

“Let us go inside, shall we?” you smiled charmingly, looking up at the tall castle with dread in your eyes.

“Aye, so we shall.” Cregan nodded, his broad shoulders most notable as he sauntered into the opened gates.

✫彡

The first night went unfamiliar to you, the harsh blows of the cold weather creating a prominent presence looming over the already melancholic times.

You sat in your chambers, sitting at the stony window sill as you watched Cregan from above.

The lord was overlooking young squires on the courtyard, engaged in conversation with the knight in charge of guiding the young to-be-knights.

All dressed in fur, shoulders looking as if they were padded. Cregan’s hair was tied up, with two front strands escaping and hanging loose. His grey-blue eyes stood glued at watching the young squire’s techniques, and you could only sigh as you got lost in his appearance.

Ever since stepping foot into the North of Westeros, you’d developed a strange sense of interest in the beauty of Northern men. How they all dressed so grimly, but intimidating. How they’re oh-so honourable and hard working. How they always seemed so clean shaven but rugged all at once.

And you could not help but wonder what it would be like had you wedded one of them.

Being completely honest, you’d never really been the sort of maiden to stay inside of her chambers, waiting for her husband to return from his duty, deprived of affection.

With any Southern lord, being a doting unappreciated wife would never cross your mind.

But with Northern men, however, you had the feeling your efforts wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Before you could continue your vulgarly confusing thoughts, you saw Cregan’s eyes shift to yours, finding your gaze.

You could only lean against the window, a hand on the stony side as you gazed back at him. Your hair was loose, and you were dressed in your creamy beige nightdress.

You held his gaze for a moment, until ultimately turning away, leaving the implications of that gaze to his imagination.

✫彡

By the third day, you’d been reading in the old library belonging to House Stark. You’d sat on a plush seat, the dusty book on your lap as your gentle fingers flipped through the pages.

But you weren’t alone.

Cregan Stark sat near you, his knees in almost touching proximity to yours.

“Aye, the North is cold, but it’s honest.” he tells you, gently shutting his own book. “The snow doesn’t lie about its intention. No courtly games like they play in the South.”

“Oh, please.” you smiled, shutting your book as well. your body shifted so it was facing his, resting your head on one hand. “The courtly games are what makes it so fun.”

“Now, riddle me this.” You smiled, noting his full attention on you. His body language exuded calmness, and you felt secure in the knowledge that his comfort lies with you. “How do you not like courtly games? Personally, it makes my life all the more amusing.”

“I suppose it’s all jesting for you, princess.” Cregan said, his eyes resting on yours. “Amusement or not, I’d rather know where I stand…”

“With you, however…” His eyes trailed down to your bare shoulder, the white nightdress you’re wearing very much a sight of sore eyes. “I think I know.”

“Oh, do you?” you teased, cocking a brow. “And how so, pray tell?”

“Well…” he grunted, shifting in his seat to tighten the proximity around you two. “You’d do well not to cross any Northern man. They don’t take well to… courtly games.”

You only smiled at that, your upper body instinctively leaning in, albeit torturously slow.

“And, uh, suppose I… marry a Northern lord.” you teased quite coquettishly, a hand moving to rest on the thick fur coating his body. “What am I in for.”

You watched as his smirk only widened, gently taking the hand that rested on his fur, and taking it in his.

“Marry a Northern lord like me, and have your nights warmed under the thick fur of blankets.” he says, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles. “Northern loyalty runs deep, princess. That’s what you’d be in for.”

You nodded slowly, and you could not help but notice those coloured eyes of his descending onto your perky breasts.

Great, this was all going well so far. “I’d imagine… do you think he’d gift me a pup? I’ve always wanted a tiny pet, to keep.”

“Yeah?” The lord licked his lips, a hand resting on your waist. “You think you’d handle a wolf properly?”

“Well, I would.” you smiled, nodding in agreement. “I’m a dragon… and dragons do not surrender that easily.”

You smiled, shifting in your seat again as Cregan amusedly indulged you in your silly thoughts. “Just imagine it, my lord. I’d be holding that pup every night trying to get it to warm to me.”

Your hand slowly, but surely, trickled down to his clothed thigh, trying to maintain a sense of quiet intimacy.

“You’ll have your work cut out for you, then.” his voice lowered, bordering on husky. “Wolves aren’t so easily tamed, not even by someone with…”

He paused for a moment, a hand gently taking the one you placed on his thigh.

“…your charms.”

You’d have a cheeky comeback on the tip of your tongue, had it not been for Cregan’s lips descending upon yours, clashing together like Blackwoods and Brackens.

You let out a soft breath as you eased into the kiss, feeling his large hands grip your waists as if his life depended on it.

Your hands moved from his shoulders, to his neck, and then to his armoured chest. The armour he carried felt cold to your hands, yet it made it all the more sinful.

“Did you have this in mind?” you murmured against his lips, tongue circling his as you so sloppily attempted to kiss him. “Seducing me?”

The silence engulfed you two for a moment, only being overshadowed by the sound of soft breaths.

“You have it wrong, princess.” he breathed, firmly planting you upon his lap, your back pressing against his chest. “Do you take me for a halfwit?”

You smiled, looking over your shoulder as you attempted to chase his lips with yours again.

“No, but I certainly did not take you for a man so easily seduced.” you teased, guiding his hands to your clothed breasts. “You don’t seem the type to give in that easily.”

“Because it’s untrue.” he spoke up, lips brushing to against your neck. “But do you honestly think nothing would be done about the way you saunter around, looking as you do?”

His hands slowly tugged against your nightdress, pressing a hard kiss to your achy jaw before pulling away.

“Lay yourself down on the carpet.” he commanded, hands shifting to peel off his fur coat, along with his armour and tunic.

All you could do was nod and watch on as his armour went discarded on the floor, the metal material cranking against the stone ground.

His bare chest was now visible, the defining abs illuminated by the glowing fire. His hair messed up when he threw his tunic over his head.

“Cregan, I-"

And in one moment, you felt his large body overshadow yours, clashing lips again. Cregan lifted his body as to not crush you, hands on either side of your head.

You only permitted yourself to breathe unevenly, stead of moan. Your hands found his shoulders, desiring to pull him closer than possible.

“Ever since you’ve arrived you’d been nothing but trouble.” Cregan murmured, lips finding your throat. “Sauntering around with your ladies, endlessly teasing me.”

Your legs only shifted to wrap around his waist, back slowly arching at the kisses.

He took notice, and let one of his hands pin you down, lips descending towards your perky breasts.

“Gods, you’re wrong for this.” he grunted, swirling his tongue around the nipple. “For provoking me, as you did yesterday, and the day before that.”

“For thinking you have the authority to do this to a lord.” he breathed, your small breast fitting into his large palm.

“For…” he continued, kissing down your stomach, before ultimately glancing back at you “…thinking you’d get away with this.”

“I did not think I’d get away with this.” you tease, watching as he moves face-to-face again. “Which is why I did it.”

Your hands find his muscled arms, squeezing it gently. “I want to know how Northern men do it.”

You’d think you were jesting, but were you truly?

You’d have opened your mouth to say anything else, looking up at him, if it weren’t for the Northern lord himself roughly flipping you to your stomach.

“You wish to know, my princess?” he murmurs, unlatching his breeches. “You’d have your first time be with a Northman?”

You nodded, cheek resting on the carpet fabric without surrender. “Yes. Gods yes.”

He hiked your skirt around your waist, your plump ass visible to his peering eyes.

“You’ll be ruined for other men, aye.” He grunted, his hand wrapping around his rock hard cock.

“That’s good, because I desire no one save you.” you smiled, allowing him to lift your hips up and arch your back.

“Yeah?” he smirked, the tip of his cock rubbing against your damp hole. “You’ll have me make you my wife?”

You nodded, impatiently moving your hips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“You’d be a good wife, wouldn’t you?” he grunted once again, head finally pushing into your unloosened clit. “No Southern games, no poignant looks of yours.”

“You like that about me.” you painfully breathed, feeling the uncomfortable ache of his cock in your newly penetrated cunt.

His head descended, placing gentle kisses upon your shoulders. “A maiden. Perhaps you aren’t as well-equipped to handle a wolf as you said you were.”

“I am.” you protested, pushing your hips back. “Move your hips. I wish to prove myself.”

He only speeded up his thrusts, and as you allowed the moans to fill your lips, his hands found a way to push your head down.

“You’d carry my pups?” he asked, thrusting into you aggressively, pumping his cock in and out. “Wait on my cock every night?”

You only moaned incredulously, asscheeks clapping along with every snap of his hips.

“Yes.” you breathed, gasp and claps filling the room. “Fuck, put a babe inside of me. I want your children.”

“We’ll have to wed sooner, before the babe gets born in wedlock.” he grunted, hands gripping your hips, pushing you back onto his thick length. “But that’s what you wanted all along, was it?”

You gripped the fabric of the carpet, cheeks burning as it rubbed against the irritating carpet.

“For a thick cock such as this.” he teased, tugging at your hair.

“Yes.” you moaned pathetically, cheeks flushed as you felt a knot forming into your stomach.

Your lips parted, your eyes rolling above-ways.

“Yes, yes!” you moaned loudly, feeling his hands grope your breasts. “Fuck, you’re moving fast.”

“Never fast enough.” he murmurs, member sliding against your wet slit.

He could feel your tight walls clenching around him, milking his cock for all it is worth. His grip on you tightened as he thrust down to meet your upward motion.

And with one sharp thrusts, you felt the knot loosen and the cream dripping out your twitching clit.

Yet, he didn’t stop, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he rode you through your orgasm.

The feeling of your walls clenching around his cock was enough to send him reeling as well, burying himself deep inside of you.

Hot spurts of cum dripping out of your hole, you completely got yourself spent, closing your eyes and deciding you could just fall asleep on this carpet.

“No sleeping in the library.” he scolded lightly, putting on his fur coat, covering his naked physique. “Come here.”

You exhaustedly crawled over to him again, and snuck yourself into his coat, the clothing covering both of your naked bodies.

“I’m taking you to your chambers.” he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “And for the next time, do not attempt to get so exhausted. I went easy on you this time.”

[scorpiosbite]

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── INTRODUCING ACTRESS!READER 

ACTRESS!READER is currently starring on the biggest show in the world, game of thrones, where she plays the lead visenya targaryen. she has been praised worldwide for her talent and the emotion she brings to her performance, capturing the hearts of everyone. she is set to star in upcoming a24 films as well.

ACTRESS!READER is effortlessly cool. renowned for her style, her outfits feature in the pinterest boards of many. she comes off as quiet or mysterious to those who don't know her. but she is a complete extrovert with her best friend, a fellow actress she met on the set of game of thrones. but if you want her to loosen up just give her a shot.

ACTRESS!READER is horrible with technology and barely uses social media, but her best friend ropes her into making tiktoks together every once in a while. posting basically her photoshoots only. but once in a while, she'll post a photo dump if she feels like it and her fans eat it up.

ACTRESS!READER is the most beautiful woman you have ever seen, her eyes and saccharine smile are so captivating. her gaze makes it look like she is in love with you when she gives you her attention and the thing is, she knows the effect she has on people, but never lets her fame or materialistic things get to her head. humble and grounded, she always has time for her fans. but don't think this means that she is a pushover. she's not. she will put people in their place if necessary. she has a deep hatred for the paparazzi and is loyal to a fault.

ACTRESS!READER is often quiet in interviews preferring to let her castmates soak up the attention, never one to interrupt. she has many songs been written about her and whenever asked about it she simply blushes and says that she "is honoured."

ACTRESS!READER keeps her circle small, and her secrets close to her heart, afraid of being hurt. she is often guarded when she meets people for the first time, making it difficult to get close to her. oh, and yes she is a scorpio.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ fics

the first time drew saw actress!reader.

the time actress!reader mentioned obx in her interview

when actress!reader and drew met for the first time

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ social media au

actress!reader x drew starkey social media au; one

alright, guys here it is. what do you think? let me know.

[the-fiction-witch]

Discussing The Matter

Media - Game Of Thrones Character - Viserys Targaryen Couple - Viserys X Reader Reader - (OC) Visenya Targaryen (Twin sister of Viserys) Rating - Smut (Incest) Word Count - 3008

Visenya made her way through Illrio’s large impressive palace in her loose blue gown in the typical pentos style. She matched into viserys chambers seeing his books and weapons lining the place, his large circle marble bath in the centre where he currently sat being attended by maids,

"Go." She demanded and the maids and staff cleared out leaving them alone,

Viserys looked at her, admiring her, she looked like an actual goddess to him. "What a commanding tone, you come into my chambers uninvited and demand my servants to leave?"

"Just because you have a cock! Does not entitle you to make all the decisions regarding our family viserys!" she said as she came over and stood at the steps of his tub meaning he couldn't get out until she was done talking to him

“Did you come all the way here to discuss my cock? or is there a different reason, my sweet sister?"

"viserys. I'm serious." She complained, "You can't really allow illrio to make this match for Dany. The Dothraki are cruel, their Karls take multiple wives, slaves, butchers and bastards to their women!"

Viserys rolled his eyes and leaned back against the bath, his gaze drifting towards the ceiling, "Oh, come on, do you really expect me to care about Dany? She's already a woman flowered, it's time she started fulfilling her duties as a woman."

"... And what of me? I am a woman flowered why did you not sell me?"

Viserys' gaze snapped back to her, his eyes searching her face in disbelief, a hint of anger in his voice as he answered. "You are my twin, my other half, my equal. I would never trade you away to some stinking barbarian."

"Dany is our baby sister. Is she not of your care too?" She said as she slowly stepped up the steps and into his bath with him, crawling over to sit in his lap her dress immediately soaking,

Viserys' breath hitches as his sister straddles him, his hands resting on her hips instinctively and pulling her closer to him in the bathtub. He looks up at her, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and desire, as he speaks, his voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. "You know I would never do anything to hurt you, but that doesn't apply to Daenerys. She might be our sister, but she's still just a woman. Her role is to obey us and bear heirs."

"I am a woman," she whispered against his lips,

His eyes darkened with lust, and a low growl rumbled in his throat as she spoke. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer, his hands sliding up underneath her wet gown to caress the bare skin of her back. "You are the exception."

"am I? I am older. I am ... Arguably more desirable. Dany is a child. And you sell her away, surely illrio has asked you as... The one with the cock. To make arrangements to send me away" she explained playing with running her fingers on his face and hair, as she shifts her hips on him

A sharp intake of breath escaped him as her hips moved against his, his grip on her waist tightening as he tries to keep himself from losing control. His eyes darkened even further, the desire burning inside him making it hard to think straight, the thought of losing her to a stranger, painful to imagine. "He suggested it, yes, but I refused. You're mine, always mine, I'd rather die than let another man have you."

"even if you got your army for me," she cooed moving her hips more knowing she can force his answers out of him

A low, primal moan slipped from his lips as her movements continued to drive him mad with desire, his own hips bucking against her involuntarily, his hands sliding down to her thighs, holding her in place. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his words coming out as a hoarse whisper. "I would burn every kingdom from Qarth to Asshai to the ground before letting another man touch you, to hell with my army."

"but she is sellable? Your own sister?"

His expression hardened, his lust momentarily forgotten as reminders of the current argument returned to his mind. He pulled back, looking at her with a mixture of anger and resignation. "She is. She is younger, more innocent, still pure. She can give me alliances and armies. What can I possibly gain from you?"

she glared and went to move off him

he caught her hips and slammed her down on his lap, the water of the tub sloshing around them. His grip was firm, not letting her move away from him. "Don't you dare. You came into my bathtub and straddled me, you're not going anywhere without me finishing what you started."

"you know what you would gain from me. An army, your crown. More allies in this world. You have two sisters both of which you can sell off and still be open to marry across the sea when you are king."

His hands on her hips held her firmly against him, forcing her to feel the hard length of him, his chest heaving as his breathing quickened. He moved his face closer to hers, their lips just barely touching as he spoke. "Why do you think I want an army or a crown when I have you, hmm? You're worth more to me than all the gold and armies in this world. I don't care about marriages or alliances, I just want you, only you, always and forever."

she turned her face away so he couldn't kiss her "This is cruel to her viserys."

His fingers dug into her waist, his voice coming out as a hoarse growl, frustration and desire mixing in his tone. "Why do you care so much about what happens to Dany? You're mine. You belong to me and I belong to you. She has to do her duty, even if it means offering her body and fertility to a barbarian. Why can't you just accept that?"

"... We ... Are not a possibility"

His grip on her tightened, his eyes narrowing as he watched her, a mixture of anger and hurt in his expression. "And why not? We're both Targaryen, I want you, you want me, we should be perfect together. So why can't we be a possibility?"

"we are siblings." She reminds

Viserys' jaw clenched, his breathing growing ragged. He knew she was right, but that didn't make it hurt any less. "I don't care. I don't care if it's a sin, if the Seven disapprove, if the Gods themselves send lightning to strike us down. All I know is that you drive me mad, that I want you, burn for you, need you more than anything in this world. And you cannot deny that you feel the same."

"targaryen wed brother to sister for thousands of years... But that time is over. No land would allow us to be as we wish."

His hands on her hips trembled as he struggled to hold himself back, his heart aching with frustration and unfulfilled desire. "Who cares what other lands allow, why should we care what the rest of the world thinks? We are Targaryens, dragonsblood coursing through our veins, we are above those pathetic mortals and their pitiful little rules. Why can't we just forget about the world and be together, you and me?"

she sighed and shifted her hips again "We aren't done discussing the matter"

He groaned as her hips moved against him again, his body responding to her unconsciously. He tried to focus on the conversation, but all he could think about was the fact she was on top of him, her body pressed against his, her breath on his face. He took a deep breath and tried to collect himself, his voice coming out as a hoarse whisper. "What further is there to discuss, my sweet sister?"

"when she is married, what will happen to us? She will be forced away with the dothraki as a breeding slave... And us? Are we to remain guests of illiro forever, worried always he is to sell us too?" She got faster

Viserys closed his eyes, fighting the wave of pleasure that washed over him as she picked up her pace, his hands on her hips now almost digging into her skin. His mind was struggling to focus, and he had to take another deep breath before responding, his voice coming out strained and hoarse. "No... I won't let that happen. I'm building an army, we will get our home back. I will be king, and you will be..." he trailed off, his breath catching in his throat as he let the fantasy play out in his mind. He stopped talking, his imagination conjuring up a vision of himself on the Iron Throne, with her sitting on a throne next to him. Him claiming her as his in front of the Seven Kingdoms and no one being able to protest their union. It was a tantalizing, seductive idea, one that made his heart hammer furiously in his chest, and the words spilled from his lips in a reverent whisper. "You will be my Queen."

"as tempting as that is. Where are we to live in the mean time? Here withilliro? With Dany and her horse lord slavers? Or go homeless while you build this army" she whispered against his lips as she moved her hands pulling her dress a little,

Her words broke into his fantasy, but the sight of her nearly naked body straddling him left him too distracted to think about the specifics of their situation. His hands roamed her body, roaming up her thighs, his fingers gripping her hips, his eyes drifting from her face to her chest. "We will stay here, for now. I need time to plan, to gather allies. We'll have to be patient, I'm afraid, my sweet sister."

"and If illrio betrays us?" She moved back down slowly gasping and softly moaning as she moved down his shaft,

Viserys gritted his teeth, his grasp on her tightening as he tried to focus on anything but the pleasure building within him. However, the sight of her sliding down his body, her breaths and noises adding fuel to the fire burning within him, made it near impossible to think straight. His voice came out as a hoarse whisper. "He won't. We need him, and he needs us. He knows that."

she grunted as she finally reached his hilt, "...does he?"

Viserys' breath hitched at the feel of her pressing against him, his eyes darkening with desire as his fingers dug into her hips, his head tipping back as he struggled to keep the last bit of his control. He spoke through gritted teeth, the words coming out as a primal growl. "He does. He better, otherwise he's a dead man."

"... The seven kingdoms will not be thrilled, of a set of twins as long and queen" she spoke as she nibbled his neck and began to ride

Viserys' head lolled back as she moved against him, his eyes closing as his body reacted to her touches and the feel of her mouth on his neck. He fought to keep his voice steady, his words coming out as a ragged whisper, his hands on her hips moving her faster against him, his own hips involuntarily bucking up to meet hers, his body on fire from the feel of her. "The Seven Kingdoms can go to hell, they have no say in what we do." His words dissolved into a deep growl, all sense and reason abandoned in the onslaught of pleasure and need. All he could think about was her, her body, her skin, her gasps and the way she rode him, driving him mad with desire. He moved his hands to her thighs, gripping them tightly, wanting to hold her in place and never let go. "I need you. Now."

she nodded and got faster riding at a decent pace the water moving around them

Viserys groaned deeply, the sound coming from deep within his chest. His hands on her thighs slid up to her hips, helping her move faster against him, his own body meeting hers with a need that bordered on primal. He tried to speak, but all coherent thought had left him, leaving only desire and need. "Gods, yes, keep going, don't stop." His lips found hers in a desperate, hungry kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth, exploring and tasting her as his hands on her hips pulled her closer, desperate to feel more of her, his body pressed against hers. His breaths came in ragged gasps as he panted, the pleasure building and building, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. "You're driving me insane, sweet sister."

her hand trailed Into his hair during the kiss, her hips moving on their own mindlessly searching for pleasure

He groaned as her hand threaded through his hair, the feeling sending jolts of pleasure down his spine, adding to the unbearable ecstasy building inside him. His tongue tangled with hers, his hands on her hips guiding her movements, his own body reacting to her, his hips meeting hers in a frantic, desperate rhythm. "So close... don't stop, don't stop, please..."

she screamed biting his shoulder as she reached her orgasm her body trembling and freezing up clenching around him,

He cursed under his breath as her body shuddered and clenched around him, the sensation of her climaxing driving him over the edge as well, his own release crashing through him in a wave of ecstasy. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, a guttural, primal moan escaping him as he held her tight, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. "Sweet sister... gods, you drive me mad with desire."

she gasped her head laying against his bare chest "We... We can't keep doing this..."

His hold on her hips loosened, his hands moving up to her waist, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her skin. His body was still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure, but her words sunk in, and he forced himself to be serious. "Why not? We both want it, we both need it."

"and what happens when my belly grows heavy?" She asked against his lips

His lips brushed against hers, his tongue darting out to taste her skin, his thoughts and feelings swirling within him. The mention of her belly rounding and growing was an image that caused his heart to clench in his chest, a mix of desire and tenderness stirring within him. "Then we will deal with it, together. And when your belly is heavy, I will worship you, my sweet sister, and I will kiss every inch of your body."

she chuckled "Would you sell our baby away for more army, as you do for Dany?"

He froze at her words, a stab of guilt and shame going through him at the thought, at the comparison. He held her tight, his fingers digging into her skin as he tried to form a response. "No, never. Our child would never be sold or bartered, I swear it. I would sooner sell my own soul than let anything or anyone harm a hair on our child's head."

"but our sister?"

He sighed, his heart heavy with guilt and regret at the mention of Daenerys. The reality of their situation weighed heavily on him, and he knew he couldn't deny the truth. "I had no choice," he murmured, his voice laced with pain and regret. "I need alliances and armies to take back my throne. I cannot do it on my own. If it means selling her off, then so be it."

"then why not me?"

His eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched at her words. The thought of selling her off, of giving her away to another man, sent a surge of anger and possessiveness through him. "Because you're different," he growled, his grip on her hips tightening. "You're mine, my sweet sister, and nobody else's. The mere thought of another man touching you, looking at you, claiming you... it drives me mad with rage." He pulled back slightly, meeting her gaze with an intensity that spoke of the depth of his feelings for her. He spoke in a low, hoarse voice, his eyes burning with a mixture of desire and determination. "You're mine, sweet sister, and I'll burn the entire world to the ground before I let anyone take you from me. You're mine to worship, to cherish, to protect. You will never be sold or bartered like a piece of property. You will be my queen, by my side, and none will dare question our union."

She nodded and laid on his chest with a slight sigh

He held her close, his arms wrapped around her tight, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her bare back. He took a deep, steadying breath, the feel of her on his chest bringing him a strange sense of comfort and peace. He spoke quietly, his voice soft and vulnerable. "I mean it, sweet sister. You're the most important thing in this world to me. I'd give up my throne, my crown, everything, just to keep you by my side. I love you."

"I love you too, I just worry for her is all. I worry for all of us." She says

He nodded, his expression somber as he thought of their sister. The weight of responsibility and worry weighed heavily on his shoulders. "I know, sweet sister, and I share your worries. I wish there was an easier path for us, a way to take back the Iron Throne without selling Dany off like cattle. But I see no other way. I need an army, and alliances, and I need them now."

she nodded pulling him into a kiss

He responded to her kiss, his lips moving against hers hungrily. His hands roamed her body, his touch desperate and possessive, as if he couldn't get close enough to her. He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged and his voice ragged. "I need you, sweet sister. I need you now."

[myladysapphire]

His Sapphire Princess (IX)

After the night in the brothel Rhaenyra is married to Laenor Velayron to protect the birth of her child. who in the years to follow is the only one of Rhaenyra's children that is believed to be his, she is loved by all in the red keep, even queen Alicent adores the girl, so when Rhaenyra proposes a marriage between Aemond and Rhaenyra's daughter Visenya, Alicent happily agrees.

The children having been best friends in their youths are more than happy to be wed but when the incident at drift mark occurs things change, will it be for better or worse?

word count: 2,455

CW: angst? some fluff (like they reunite and don't hate each other and decide to start over), tensions, refrences of past SA, not proofread!

Fem!oc x Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclaimer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

a/n i hate this, but it's kind of a filler chapter anyway

Aemond

Aemond had been both eager and nervous for her return.

Though counting down the days, planning on how he would greet you, he also was scared.

He know she felt ignored by him, betrayed by how he had just stopped replying to her letters. Ignored her name days, ignored her completely.

But that was not entirely true.  He had wanted so badly to reply, writing letter upon letter, though some were just mindless scribbles. But not once did he find he wrote a letter worthy of her, worthy of the emotions he felt. He needed space and he had shown he needed it in the worse possible way.

He had hated how he knew some version of her, a guarded version. Her letters expressing less and less, over time just mere updates of her life before stopping altogether. And he hated that the version she knew of him was the scared little boy he had tried so hard to get ride of.

The version of Aemond he had gotten ride of, in all ways but with her. He wanted to be the old Aemond with her, but hated that he did. It was why he needed the space, the time to heal, the time to become the man he is today.

But as he stood in the training yard, staring at her as she talked to him, so ddiffernt, so cold.

He knew he made a mistake.

She was so different, she had changed, and not just her personality.

But her looks also. Gods she was the most stunning and beautiful woman he had ever seen, he had always thought it impossible for her to become more beautiful.

But her beauty was clouded by the look in her eyes, the anger, the hurt and the loneliness.

She looked so alone, even as she walked out the courtyard with her brothers, laughing. She same old melodic laugh that could capture a room. The loneliness ceased slightly when he looked into them, as if she was finally being seen.

He understood. There eyes always talked to each other, expressing their true emotions, it why he knew his eyes mirrored hers, but they also showed another emotion, regret.

Regret for reading your letters time and time again, annotating them as if they were quotes from his favourite novel. Regret from the stack of unsent letters he kept in his bedside draw.

Each filled with his thoughts. Most mindless scribbles, unfished letters ending with angry scribbled out words as words escaped him, as  fear filled him.

He had tried to write of the events in his life even detailing his fights with Ser Criston, his rides with Vaghar, the books he read. And yet he could never send them, fear of her seeing his liefe and not understanding why he needed the space, or fear that he would see the darkest parts of his mind grew as the years went on. The sweet kind boy she had once new fading, and a cruel, vengeful man taking his place.  

He had once longed to be a protector, her sworn sword, doing good in her name. now…now he revelled in fear. He loved how the woman would run at the sight of his sapphire eye, a sight he knew deep down she never would. He revelled in revenge, revenge by going to the brothel, the place of his hurt, and burning it.

It was ruthless, but the second he had done it, he felt free, healed.

And yet fear still gripped at him, fear of wheat you know thought of him.

Fear that she would not accept the new him, but as he had started at you he felt like the old sweet Aemond was still in there somewhere, but only for her, his Sapphire.

Watching her sway away he knew he had limited time, this week was the first week of their official courtship, but the week after they would begin the moon long celebrations for their wedding.

Celebrations were they would spend day after day, hour after hour together being the perfect couple.

And he didn’t want it to be an act.

He had returned to his rooms, opening his bedside draw, but instead of reaching for her letter he reached for his own, and realised what he wanted to do.

He waited, two days. Two days of agony.

He had somehow hoped those two days he would be able to approach her, talk to her. But now, all he could was watch her. Watch her spend day after day in someone else’s company

Whether it was one of the tens of ladies begging for her favour and chance at becoming her lady, or her brother Jace, or even Aegon.

Gods he had forgotten about Aegon’s obsession with her. He knew they wrote, Aegon often bragging about it. With Aegon telling him about her, their little jokes, their shared secrets.

Not that he was jealous, no. He was not jealous of how Aegon seemed to act as if they were betrothed to each other. For two days they seemed to walk everywhere together, sit with each other at dinners. Though her eyes were often searching for Aemond’s, Aegon’s eyes were always firmly planted on her. And whenever she wasn’t with him, he was like a lost pup, waiting for her to appear.

Those two days, though never alone they often found the other staring, their mouths would being to form words that they were never able to form. And so he finally built up the courage and sent her his letters.

Visenya

When she had received Aemond’s letters she did not know what to expect.

They had appeared on her dresser, all 112 of them. Though some were scrapes of paper with random thoughts scribbled across them. One just one word repeated, 110 times.

Her name written, again and again, in the same neat, perfect handwriting Aemond had always had.

She then realised what this was, an apology.

She found the first letter he wrote that was left unsent, and she felt her heart break.

Dearest Visenya,

I am so sorry, I can not say why it has taken so long for me to only now reply.

Prepahs it was the guilt.

I never should of come to Winterfell, You had been kind and sweet, but I fear your kindness is unwarranted. I do not desire pity, I regret coming that night, I regret allowing you to see me so weak and scared. My whole life I have sworn to be your protector, your sword. And that night as I cried in your arms I felt like a small child, I felt smaller than when I did when Lucerys tore out my eye. And I hated it.

I have tried to look past it, look at it in away where I do not come across a whiny little boy and I am nothing but ashamed.

I had hoped to write you, bragging of my successes and yet all I can do I wallow In self pity at how I acted that night.

It matters not that I bested ser Criston for the first time, or how often I ride Vaghar.

For all I can think about it the look of pity you gave me.I do not need nor want your pity, my sapphire.

You gave me a place to stay and a place to cry, but I shall make it clear to you that the Aemond you saw that night is long gone. And shall never return. He can never return, not for you not for anyone.

So sweet, I shall not answer your request to come to Winterfell, I need the space, the time and so do you.

I fear distance is what we need, though we may hate it, I need to become Prince Aemond, and not just scared little Aemond, the boy who lost is eye, the boy who cried in your arms.

Yours, whether I say it or not,

Aemond

Dearest Visneya,

It has been near six moons since I last wrote you, and you are writing less and less.

I have been cruel, I know. I have ignored you in the favour of bettering myself.

I do not deserve you, or your kindness even still.            

You seem to be doing well, a fact I envy not too see. But I myself am not.

I miss you more and more each day, I find myself looking for you ate very turn. And yet it has been over a year since you were at the red keep.

So much has changed, Aegon and Heleana are to wed soon, I have started training with a real sword.

I no longer wake in sweats from that night.

So much has changed and yet I have so little words to say, I hate it!

I used to have all the words in the world for you, never once fearing how you viewed me. For I knew how you viewed me then.

And now I fear you will judge me.

Hate me.

Resent me.

I fear I have become a stranger, and yet I have a dozen unsent letters all addressed to you, read and read time and time again your own.

I know you, and I fear you.

Fear your opinion of me, how you view me.

I fear-      

Most of his letters just ended, frustration finding him far to quickly, some were just mindless words and phrases.

Visenya,

I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you  I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you I miss you .

Some were hateful, words said in anger, at how she still cared.

Dear Visenya,

Stop writing me.

How long must I ignore you to realise I want not to know you as we once did.

How am I to become the man you desire we spend all our time writing each other, stuck in our silly little heads!

Then gossip filled the red keep, gossip that Cregan had asked for your hand.

Visneya,

please, my sapphire, I beg of you do not marry him!

Your mother bids it but I do not!

Please.

And then her letters had stopped and he left once last letter to her.

Visneya,

Please, don’t stop writing me!

I know I have not been a friend to you but a stranger but without your letters the world has stopped.

I now I am a hypocrite, a hypocrite who cannot find the words. Who never has been able to speak his feelings, but show them.

I know not of a gesture to prove I want you till, I crave you and I need you.

but please, I cannot live without you, knowing you, please.

Please!

forever your Aemond.

Gods, she thought, he had to been hurt. Though not by her, and she had resented him for it. Resented how he had opened up to her, and then abandoned her ignored her for so long.

She knew it was hard for, he was never one for words. Gestures yes, but words? They always frustrated him, he could never formulate his feelings and yet this, the scribbled erratic thoughts and letters, unedited and rushed. They showed so much but also so little.

She has spent the whole day reading those letters, seeing no one bar her maid delivering her meals. And had it not been for her mother coming to grab her for dinner, demanding her presence, she would have sat on her thoughts all day and night.

But as she was sat next to Aemond she realised she would have less time to think on what Aemond’s gesture meant and what it meant for them.

“Aemond” she greeted, flipping her hair to the side as she sat.

“Senya” he greeted in response, eyes firmly on her.

 She squirmed in her seat, unsure on where to start. “Senya” he said again, capturing her attention, as they made eye contact some tension left her body.

“why?” she asked, its all she could think of, why?

He coughed awkwardly, clearly not expecting this conversation now, “I was never one for words, Visneya. But gestures, have always been something I excel at.” He moved his head closer to her, their conversation too private for prying eyes. “ I never should have ignored you, I know realise, it hurt us both, more than I ever thought” he shifted in his seat “seeing the look in your eyes when you arrived and realising I had made a mistake”

She nodded, urging him on, as she began to plate up her food.

“I focused solely on myself, I was selfish, but I won’t lie to you, my sapphire”

My sapphire, she liked that.

“I have become selfish and cruel, I have become a man who craves fear, but not from you, never from you”

“then what do you want from me?” she asked softly, before nervously looking to make sure no one else was listening to their conversation. “you did not want companionship from me, you ignored me for years on end, and yet by the end of the moon we will be wed!” she took a breath “if you have truly become selfish, and cruel, how do I know that it is for your betterment? And how will I know that you wont ever make me fear you?”

“because I became that person, so that I never have to feel fear again, feel the fear I felt at Driftmark, at that… at that brothel” she sighed, taking her hand in his “ I want to be your protector, it is all I have ever wanted, and how could I become that if I remained that scared, naïve little boy?”

Everything he was saying was true, but it also made her realize she did not know him anymore.

She breathed in “perhaps we should start over? Get to know one another again?”

He nodded, “I would like that”

next part

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[fastlikealambo]

The third wife of rhaenyra targaryen.|| rhaenyra targaryen x black!fem reader

In the five years since Queen Rhaenyra The Conqueror, Bringer of New Valyria, triumphed over the usurper without losing a single dragon, the realm is at peace. Having no need of husbands and taking two other wives, Queen Alicent and Queen Mysaria, the dragon queen is in need of a third and final wife to rule the seven kingdoms at her side.

You were just a girl from nowhere, watching the sky fill with dragons at peace, destined to be a scullery maid in a vicious household and the future wife of a ratcatcher until fate and blood decide your future for you. 

History will remember Rhaenyra Targaryen as the great unifier, the second coming of Visenya Targaryen who brought another golden age of dragons out of war. But they will sing songs of you, the smallfolk who ascended to fire and blood as the queen’s favorite, the one they tried to kill so many times, the third wife of rhaenyra targaryen.

Some notes: Aegon, Aemond, and Daemon are dead but their dragons were saved, and Otto Hightower and Criston Cole spontaneously combusted, I don’t know what to tell yall. Luke lived, Jace lived, Helaena lived, Jaehaerys lived, Baela and Rhaena are happy goddammit.  During the short war, Rhaenyra married Mysaria and one year after the dance of dragons ended, she also married Alicent.

Some other notes: This is dark and I drew some inspiration from Cinderella and Hurrem Sultan (the fictional representation of her from the show's magnificent century but nobody I know watches that show). Rhaenyra is in her thirties and reader is in her twenties. 

Trigger warnings for violence, murder, abuse. MINORS DNI

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

Chapter Three: dawn.

Had the queen not been sitting at your side, you could have easily mistaken the scene before you for any family in King’s Landing.

Laughing children milled about with their nursemaids following close behind and there were several toys in your lap given to you by Rhaenyra’s youngest sons. It was loud and joyful and there was an ease to the dragon queen’s smile.

   “I apologize, I know you wanted to settle in first but I couldn’t not stop in, the noise is something we all have grown accustomed to as I’m sure you will with time.” Rhaenyra said, bouncing her daughter Visenya on her knee.

    “I don’t mind it all, Your Grace. It has been my mother and I my whole life, I welcome noise. Especially such happy noise after such dark times.” 

   “I’ve sent the Queensguard to bring your mother shortly, you need not feel alone here.  I was once known as the realm’s delight but somehow I believe that title will be passed to you. Know that here and when we are alone, I’m only Rhaenyra.” Rhaenyra said, taking your hand.

The doors swung open and in walked two women that Rhaenyra rose to greet and kiss. You had never laid eyes on Queen Mysaria or Queen Alicent but judging by the way they looked at you with curiosity and coldness that had to be them.

   “May I present my consorts, Queen Mysaria and Queen Alicent.”

You rose and curtsied, the fear creeping in once more.

Would they see you as a friend and lover?

Or a threat?

Mysaria came forward first with a raised eyebrow but a warm embrace. She seemed to breathe you in all at once and you felt her embrace shift to fit you with precision and intimacy. 

       “You are most welcome here, don’t be afraid.” Mysaria said, squeezing both of your hands before stepping back with a pleasant smile, studying you all the same. 

Alicent stepped forward elegantly and you felt more exposed beneath her gaze than Rhaenyra’s.  The redhead offered no embrace but her lips were soft and brisk upon your cheek, pulling away politely.

       “So many new faces around the keep but yours will be hard to forget, welcome.” Alicent said, voice like a lemon cake in another room,  distantly sweet with a sharp near sour undertone.

This was a woman who was used to getting what she wanted and you were not what she wanted.

For now. 

         The conversation was interrupted by a hairy prickling that slowly traveled down your sleeve. Mysaria let out a small gasp as you looked down to see a rather large spider on your arm and though you wanted to shake your arm and scream, something told you not to.

A younger blonde girl rushed forward without a word, carefully coaxing the spider off your arm and into her hands.

   “I’m sorry.” She muttered quietly but you smiled in return and relief.

   “You have nothing to be sorry for, the little one only wanted to say hello, no harm done.” You said.

    “This is Princess Helaena, my daughter.” Alicent said, the first real smile to cross her face since greeting Rhaenyra.

      “A pleasure to meet you Princess, I look forward to getting to know you and all the creatures I have yet to make an acquaintance with.”

   Helaena cocked her head to the side and looked somehow at you and completely through you before walking away.

      “Close your window  at night, there are lions in the rain.”  She muttered, low enough for only you to hear and was gone just as quickly as she arrived.

  There was no time to ponder what that meant as Rhaenyra kissed her wives again, lips trailing down Mysaria’s neck before inhaling her scent deeply. She then turned to Alicent, bringing her forehead to Alicent’s own, cradling the back of her head.

    “We’ll talk more at dinner but for now, let’s get you settled into your quarters, you must be tired.” Rhaenyra said and took your hand again.

  “Thank you both for welcoming me so kindly, I know I will be happy here.” You addressed Mysaria and Alicent with a smile that they both returned before going their separate ways.

  “You can breathe now, you did well.” Rhaenyra said, squeezing your hand as you made your way through the keep.

  “ They are both formidable, I understand why you would choose them to sit by your side. I don’t believe I am formidable but I know I will do my best.” You said and Rhaenyra stopped at a door, hand cradling your cheek. 

      “I have known you less than a day and formidable is a perfect word for you, among many more.”  

Rhaenyra threw open the door to the most beautiful chambers you had ever seen, a bed wide enough to fit all in the castle, a roaring fire, and a bathtub you could practically swim in much less bathe. 

It was all yours, there was no waiting, no looking over your shoulder, you would sleep well and so would your mother for the first time in years.

Why did it take an act of blood for the gods to favor you?

Rhaenyra led you to a mirror, wrapping her arms around your waist.

       “Mysaria is my star, Alicent is my sky, and you will be my dawn. Whatever you could want for is given freely, all I ask is that you remember the dignity of the seat you will hold, keep my counsel, and honor yourself. There can be no secrets between us now.”

You placed your hand over Rhaenyra’s hand, tiny flecks of dried blood beneath your nails.

  “No secrets.”

That’s it for this chapter! Thank you for reading!

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[jaehaeryshater]

never get in between a woman and her blood magic baby

my commission from @wweskywalker

I don’t have as much to explain with this piece as my Saera and Jaehaerys commission because it’s Maegor and Visenya and their insanity is self explanatory, but I did want to take a moment to gush bc isn’t it so beautiful??? The thought struck me one day that normal mama’s boys get their mothers jewelry or otherwise provide for them, and Maegor tried to do the same, but what was the most special to him was not how the other boys acted. I imagine he would have started out by giving parts from the animals he hunted, and it spiraled from there. To him, there is no stronger and purer declaration of love and devotion than bringing a human heart to his mother (he brought Ceryse one too but she did not react as positively for some reason). Some have characterized Maegor as a sociopath, but I don’t think is true as it seems he does have loyalty and love towards his mother. He’s a horrible person, but I imagine he has never ending aim to please the people (or maybe it’s just one person) that he holds dear. I see him almost as some kind of twisted mutt. Of course, that’s not how Visenya views him, for to her he is her world. The original intention was for this to be set during the early reign of Aenys and certainly before the Trial of the Seven. The crown does sort of contradict that, but I love how Veronica draws jewelry so much and asked her to please please please deck them out as much as she could, so let’s just not think on it too hard. I don’t have a person specifically in mind whose heart this is, the gift was more important than the person who it came from. But my friend @theweirwoodfiles told me it could be the High Septon’s, if we were going with the Maegor being King timeline instead of Aenys.

What I *do* want to think on too hard is how beautiful the Valyrian fashion and jewelry is! When I think of Valyrian fashion, I think of the Byzantines. So the reference photos I gave Veronica were inspired by that, and I think she did a great job of making Visenya look luxurious and still representative of her family’s roots, what I imagine fashion looked like in the Valyrian freehold (maybe just a little more fancy, seeing as she’s Queen Dowager). Maegor’s dragon on his armor is a total Veronica original, I didn’t give her any references or anything, I just told her I love the dragon imagery that she displays in her art and she delivered ^_^

[superprincesspea]

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 18 - Vhagar

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

Aemond pulls you deeper into the garden, and the sound of the party fades away. If you were a sensible girl, you would insist on knowing where he was taking you. But you’re not thinking of rules or decorum, you’ve already given yourself to adventure, and its anticipation which tingles in your veins. That is, until you're standing in front of the dragon pits.  

Then there’s only fear. Dragons . Perhaps you should have guessed this would be your destination, and perhaps deep down, you had. But now it was real, and the tall doors loomed like the jaws of a monster. 

In all your weeks living in Kings Landing, and all your exploring of the keep, you’d never dared to come close to here. The dragon screams alone, had been enough to keep you away, their sound sometimes rippling up through layers of dirt and rock, muted, yet warning enough to all who would listen.  

Prying your hand from Aemond’s, you step away from him, just as the two guards, who’d been relaxing in their duties, stand to attention, panic momentarily filling their faces before they move to open both sides of the door.  

You don’t suppose they were expecting visitors at this time of night, and you can feel the way they’re trying not to stare, as you inch closer, peering into the depths of the candle lit staircase.  

From here, you cannot see where the stairs end and the pit truly begins, only darkness, and just looking feels like a dangerous thing. As though something might rush right up and snatch you into its deadly possession. 

“I’m not going down there,” you decide, feeling quite happy to remain terrified of the dragons dwelling in the dark underbelly of the keep. And even if you weren’t, the scream which suddenly runs up the stairs, so much louder, and so much closer, than any you’d heard before, sends a fresh shudder of nerves along your spine.   

“Why ?” Aemond asks, and when you turn to give him a pointed look, his brow is raised above his good eye. He's surprised, he’s actually surprised.

You almost laugh, before remembering the two guards standing by the door. Both of them still pretending not to watch or listen while simultaneously seeing and hearing everything. 

What were you thinking? Even standing here was akin to a scandal. Disappearing into the pits would certainly seal your fate as a ruined woman.  

Straightening your spine, you feel foolish for allowing things to get this far. “I should not even be here without a chaperone and-” you glance back through the doors, the lure of the staircase somehow calling to the hammering in your heart. 

“You’re afraid ?” Aemond suggests, as though he still can’t quite believe it. 

“Of course I’m afraid,” you reply tartly, thinking it no stain on your character to be afraid of monstrous beasts who could kill you with a single breath. 

“First of all,” Aemond stands in front of you, blocking your view of the stairs, “there are only two guards who see you here. So, I will know exactly who to kill if word of this night ever leaves this door. Second of all, I would not have brought you to the dragon pits if I thought, for one moment, that you would not enjoy every second of it.”  

You shake your head in disbelief, “first of all, you cannot kill everyone who threatens you.”  

He smirks, “then I shall cut off their hand, if that suits my lady?”  

“I’m not entirely sure losing a hand suits anyone .”  

But Aemond only shrugs, his words laced with promise, “then they will do well to keep their mouths shut.” 

With a threat like that, you were fairly certain this night would remain a secret, but that didn’t make the prospect of dragons any less terrifying. You were the third daughter of Borros Baratheon, not Visenya Targaryen. 

“And as for my second reason?” Aemond presses, as you take a step back, good sense telling you it's not too late to return to the party, no matter how boring you might find it. 

“Perhaps his grace does not know me as well as he thought.” 

“Really ?” his head tilts, his eye daring to slip down the deep cut of your dress, “because when I saw you that day on the beach-”  

“Must you always refer to that moment?” you interrupt, your gaze quickly sliding to the guards. 

“I have yet to find a day it has not crossed my mind,” he says, a wicked smile filling his cheeks, “my lady looked so wonderfully reckless as she cast herself into the bay, that I knew it would be a pleasure to   show her how to touch the sky.” 

For a moment, your breath catches, before you force yourself to huff as though you’re annoyed instead of intrigued, “it’s hardly the same thing.” 

“You’re right, flying is far more exhilarating. Now ,” he gestures towards the door, “will you care to join me or not?” 

No. Yes. No... Yes.  

You should definitely turn back. But you don’t, and hate him for making you culpable to your own decisions. Because he isn’t forcing you, or dragging you by the hand. He’s asking, waiting, and it's you , who takes the first step, and the second, and all the others until you’re standing at the bottom of a very long staircase, and the door clangs shut behind you. 

Foolish girl . It turns out, the only thing more terrifying than a dragon, is your willingness to walk right into its den.  

You step forward, leaving the stairs behind, and the room is cavernous, torches flickering for as far as the eye can see, their flames creating pockets of light which barely scrape the centre of the chamber. Then there’s the smell, hot and ripe. Charcoal and manure. You wrinkle your nose, trying not to breathe it in, but its strong enough to make your eyes water.  

Somehow, you’d never really imagined the stench, and you're suddenly reconsidering your decision to come down here, to a place where there is no natural light and no fresh air.  

You suppose they don’t call it a pit for nothing, and if you’re thinking of running back up the stairs, the thought is stolen when Aemond’s hand brushes along your shoulder.  

“What are you doing?” you say, nerves a little fraught.  

“If you smell like me,” he begins, wrapping you in the heavy fabric of his cloak, before carefully fastening the clasp in the front. “Vhagar will think you are mine and she will not harm you.” 

You swallow, hard , the warmth and scent of his skin curling around you, “and if she doesn’t?” 

Aemond laughs, far more unconcerned than you think he ought to be, “she will. You can trust me.” 

"Forgive me for taking little consolation in your words, but you do not tell someone they can trust you. You show them.” 

“Then allow me to show you,” he agrees, taking your hand in his, so he can lead you deeper into the monstrous room.  

Twenty paces in, the dark has closed around you like a thick blanket, and you’re starting to think the room will never end, when a Dragonkeeper slowly emerges from the shadows.  

He's holding a torch, firelight flickering over his face, and you can see that his skin is sallow, almost the same colour as the washed-out grey of his robe, as though it's been a long time since he’s really seen the sun.  

“She’s readied for you, my Prince, but if you are wanting her saddled for two?” he pries, bowing his head before taking a sidelong glance in your direction, his curious eyes far less discreet than that of the guards. 

“No need,” Aemond replies, and you’re relieved, meeting Vhagar seemed enough excitement for one evening. Riding her, could certainly wait. In fact, you’d be pleased enough if that time never came at all.  

Bowing again, the Dragonkeeper slinks away, the light from his torch disappearing before the room is shook by the thunderous clinking of a large chain.  

It must be the sound of the door, you think, just as a crack of light appears in front of you, the protesting creak of old timber adding to the cacophony now echoing around the room. 

Aemond doesn’t move, and you have pride enough to stop yourself from clinging to him, as the door pulls all the way open, moon light flooding into the pit, so you can just make out the shape of the arches built into the walls.  

Then you see her. Vhagar . 

Looking like the shadowy mound of a distant hill, but very much alive, as two yellow eyes appear in the dark.  

Fear grips tightly to your chest, your movements frozen as you watch the way she stretches out her long limbs like a sleepy cat, a soft huff of breath blowing from her nose. 

It seemed insanity, to wake a sleeping dragon, but when you dare to step back, Aemond catches you, his arm slipping around your waist. 

“Remain calm,” he commands, urging you forward, slowly , and you want to trust him. So, you do. It's easier that way. To let go of all thought, and allow him to take control. Because this is his world, more so than the soft chaises in the library or the hall filled with courtiers and elegant conversations. In those places, anyone could belong, but this place was built only for dragons.  

So, you make no sudden movements, no movements at all unless they’re under the guide of his hand.  

Then, when you’re standing close enough to see the line of every scale on Vhagar’s body, and smell the ash pouring out of every breath, you stop, and Aemond say’s something in High Valyrian. His words eliciting a low moan which rumbles from the pit of her giant belly, before she cranes her long neck to look at you more closely. 

Staring into her eyes, you don’t want to think of fire and death, or how she seems to suck the air from your lungs each time she inhales. But how can you think of anything else? She's formidable, powerful, a dragon who's known Aegon the Conqueror himself. 

What stories she could tell, and perhaps she did, in every scar which marred her armoured body.  

Inching back, thinking this meeting was quite enough, you collide with the solid wall of Aemond’s chest, his fingers threading with yours. No glove, just the rough touch of his hand, drawing your arm up, your scents mingling for Vhagar's inspection. 

“Do you trust me now?” he whispers, as she breathes in the smell. 

“Ask me again in the morning,” you barely dare to answer, and he laughs softly, his other hand splaying across your ribs, like it belongs there. Like he has permission to hold you in such a manner. So close, his body melting into yours, and your heart racing anew, as he leans down, his nose brushing through your hair, to find a place where he can press a slow, sultry, kiss to the back of your neck.  

Startled , you twist your head to look at him, your cheeks as hot as the tingles coursing all the way to the tips of your toes. 

“Perhaps she’s not the only dragon who thinks you are mine,” he says, his blue eye dark with longing, while his thumb grazes the curve of your breast. So slightly , you’d be forgiven for thinking it was a mistake, but Aemond doesn’t make mistakes, and your breath hitches, just as his eye strokes across your lips. 

Then he speaks, but it's not to you. It's to Vhagar, more High Valyrian, his tone filled with love and respect for an ancient friend.  

You should probably stop staring at him now, should definitely return your attention to the dragon crouching beside you, still and patient, but your heart is pounding harder and harder under the press of his hand. And the worst part is, you know he must feel it, must realise, with some certainty, that its him , and not a dragon who makes you react with such intensity. 

Perhaps that’s why a ghost of a smile lives on his lips as he nudges you towards her, close enough to guide your joined fingers along her scaly body. Then you do pry your gaze away. 

You’re touching a dragon. A real dragon, and perhaps you should be afraid, but your mind is still elsewhere. Lost somewhere between the hand still splayed across your chest and the kiss still sizzling on your neck.  

Standing this close to a dragon, any normal person would be thinking of death and terror. But the slow shudder of breath blowing from your lips is anything but terrified, and Aemond seems to take great pleasure in it, as you tell yourself to concentrate on one dragon at a time.  

Vhagar. Only Vhagar.  

She’s warm, much warmer than you or Aemond, which you suppose is to be expected from a creature who embodies fire, but she's also surprisingly soft and smooth. Not like silk or steel, something pliable yet strong, and so dry to the touch though her scales seem to glisten. 

Still, even with the most powerful creature in the world at your fingertips, its Aemond who keeps stealing your thoughts, and when he finally releases you from his hold, it's a relief. Allowing you to gather your wits; and putting a stop to the thrum of desire which has crept into your belly.  

But your relief is only momentary because freedom is for one purpose alone, so he can lead you towards her saddle, which he mounts without any consideration for your reluctance to follow.  

But... your mind stutters,��she’s only saddle for one . You want to say it, to remind him. Yet, Aemond knows this well enough as he beckons you onto his lap with a devilish smile. The action only cementing his position as the worst man in the entire world. 

You glare at him, wanting desperately to give him some form of hell, and perhaps he knows this well enough. Knows you have no real choice but to follow. Since you cannot shout or argue when you’re standing next to the largest dragon in the world, nor do you wish to venture all the way through the depths of the pit on your own.  

You hate him, yet he’s never looked more pleased with himself. 

With a huff, you grip your hands to the tattered ropes which trail down her long neck, and fight the instinct to flee. Because fleeing from a dragon made so much more sense than scaling one. In fact, fleeing seemed bound to the very fibre of your bones.  

Yet here you were, and you can’t help but wonder what Septa Orella would think of this. What your father would think... you push that thought away, annoyed that Aemond had seemed to mount her so effortlessly. 

Meanwhile, you were forced to say a silent prayer every time your foot dared to find fresh purchase, the sway of her breathing making you tremble, the shifting of her muscles making you freeze.  

You clung to the ropes so tightly, that your hands were red and sore by the time you made it to a place where Aemond could haul you up, and relief felt like a balm.  

You were almost glad to be securely wedged between his thighs and the pommel. The space infinitely small for proprietary. But already so high up, that your thoughts quickly turned to the ground, and the somewhat flimsy chains he begins to tighten around your legs.  

“This doesn’t feel very safe,” you shudder, testing them and thinking it would be no hard feat to fall. 

But Aemond doesn’t reassure you, he gives the chains a final tug, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he says, “it's definitely not.”  

Then he reaches one hand to pick up the reins, his other, closing your fingers around the pommel. 

“Are you ready, dragon rider? ” he breathes dangerously in your ear, and you shake your head, sick with fright. 

“Absolutely not!” You’ve changed your mind, no , that wasn’t true. You didn't want to ride her in the first place. Why were you even here? Was Tyland Lannister really so boring? 

Aemond laughs, as though he can hear the thoughts whirring around your mind, his body tensing as he pulls at her reins, and without another word, Vhagar is under way. Her moves big and bold, as she stands to full height just before she hurtles you into the air at the most startling speed imaginable.  

This is hell.  

You're not sure if the sound coming from your mouth is a laugh or a scream. Maybe both. But you don’t like it. 

All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut, wanting your mind to drift to a place where you’re in no danger of falling. Yet closing your eyes only stops you from seeing . 

You can feel everything . The stomach-churning rush, the whip of the breeze, then the mist on your face as though you’re soaring through a cloud. And in the next moment, it's gone, and the air is dry, and so cold. Cold enough to turn the water droplets on your hair into tiny crystals. 

Yet Vhagar doesn’t stop, she climbs higher and higher, the sheer force curving your body into Aemond’s like you're the glove on his hand.  

Then, all at once, she finally slows, and for just a moment, it feels as though you lift up and float on the wind, your limbs lighter, your back free to move from Aemond’s chest, though you only burrow yourself in tighter.  

Even when she’s steadied out, and you can feel the drift, slow and easy, like a ship on still waters. Your eyes remain closed, your body still clinging to Aemond’s as tightly as you hold the pommel. 

“Look,” he tells you, his fingers catching under your chin, so he can see your face, “open your eyes and look at the world.” 

“I can’t,” you admit, your breath shaky, your eyes feeling as though they are sealed shut, and Aemond doesn’t force you. His hand strokes across your cheek, gentle , reassuring, and you’re frustrated by your own reluctance.  

Seeing the world from that back of a dragon is an opportunity so rare, and so precious, that you would be a fool to deny it, and you’re no fool, not with this. 

Steeling your nerves, you force one eye open, then the other, both of them landing safely on Aemond’s face. 

You hadn’t realised you could find such comfort in the blue of his eye or such encouragement in the quirk of his smile. But there it is, and allowing yourself to linger in the way he’s looking at you, seems more dangerous than simply looking down. So, you do it.  

You look. 

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but perhaps not this. The world is almost entirely black, barely a trace of people or trees or roads. Just solitude.  

“Now look up,” he whispers, and you do as you’re told, your eyes scraping from the ground to where the horizon meets the sky and it's like looking into the realm of the gods.  

“Oh ,” you say, knowing such a sight should elicit more eloquence, but there are no words for such beauty. You’ve never seen the stars like this before, so close, so bright. You can’t help but reach towards them, releasing your deathly tight grip on the pommel, so your fingers can rake through the air, as though you might catch a star in the palm of your hand. 

“Can you fly to them?” you say, seeming to forget that flying was a terrifying thing, and Aemond’s breath is a happy caress of laughter on the back of your neck. 

“I’m afraid the air gets too cold and too thin to fly much higher than this.” 

“But you have tried?” you say, looking back at him. 

“When I was a boy,” he admits, and it makes you strangely delighted to imagine him feeling the same wonder you’re feeling right now. 

You smile, and perhaps this wasn’t hell at all, perhaps it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. “Thank you for sharing this with me,” you say, forgetting to hate him, just for now.  

Aemond leans closer, seeming to want full advantage of your good mood, “and will you share something with me, Lady Baratheon?” 

Maybe you’d spoken too soon, “share what?” 

“A truth.” 

You narrow your eyes, “what truth?” 

“That perhaps ,” he pauses, his smile slowly filling his face no matter how much he tries to hold it at bay, “it is the third daughter of Borros Baratheon who thinks I am the most wonderful dancer?” 

You snort with both laughter and surprise, turning away and fearing he can see you far too well in the dark. "If I think anything, it is that we should head back before anyone notices I’m missing.” 

“Admit it,” he says, his chin resting far too comfortably on your shoulder. 

You attempt to shake him off, but it only forces his nose to brush against your cheek, and Aemond’s certainly not complaining, he's breathing you in, one arm wrapping around your middle to hold you safe and snug, and it feels so safe and snug you cannot dare to fight it. 

“We’ve got all night,” he adds, Vhagar’s reigns loose in his other hand as she glides on the breeze, and you tiptoe around the truth. 

“I think his grace already knows he can dance or he would not have agreed to do it in the first place.” 

“But I’m your favourite?” he presses. 

You could fight him at every turn, but you haven’t got all night, so you just say, “ yes .” 

A satisfied laugh rolls across his body, the vibration of it sinking into your skin and you half expect him to mock you, but he doesn’t.  

He sits up straighter in the saddle, and holds the reins a little tighter, before saying something in High Valyrian.  

Then Vhagar drifts into an easy turn, and she doesn’t dart down in the same way she shot to the stars. She glides slowly, gradually , lower and lower until you’ve almost reached the ground. 

But where you expect to see the Red Keep or even the sprawling streets of Kings Landing, there are only waves, cresting on the shore of an empty beach. No lights, or signs of people, for as far as the eye can see.  

Just you, Aemond, and Vhagar. Alone.  

~~~

Thank you for reading!

[drakaripykiros130ac]

TG stans claiming they’re not mysoginists, and then they post comments like this:

“Until women learn to pick up swords and fight their own wars, they do not get to rule.”

- Caveman mentality

This is an obvious shot directed at Rhaenyra, who is not a warrior. She had never been trained at arms (unlike her half-brothers), and she was never the type to wield a sword. She was the most feminine character in this Dance. As much as she admired Queen Visenya, she was not her.

And I’m sorry, since when do women have to fight in order to rule? You don’t need a sword. You need a brain. The sword is for the field.

The throne is an inheritance. You don’t have to fight for it. You just get it after your parent passes away. Many of Rhaenyra’s ancestors got it that way. Why should it be any different for her?

Lady Jeyne Arryn commanded the whole Vale and she never picked up a sword in her life. She was Lady of the Eyrie because it was her right. The men of the Vale did all the wielding for her.

And while we’re on the subject, let’s discuss the “brave” women on the side of the Greens:

1. Alicent Hightower: starts the whole war and hides behind her sons for the entirety of it. She never picks up a sword. She is the mastermind behind the usurpation and then lets her children and grandchildren suffer the consequences. And the only reason she survives is because Rhaenyra spares her life (I wouldn’t have).

2. Helaena: has a full-grown dragon and does nothing but weep in her rooms the whole war because she lost one child. Boo hoo. Rhaenyra had to suffer the loss of four children before she took the throne, and yet she was still on her feet.

So, let’s cut the crap on the whole “Rhaenyra didn’t fight” subject. You suffer a miscarriage and try to get on your feet to prepare for a war. This woman was in a lot of physical pain which prevented her from riding Syrax. And why was she in that pain? Because the Greens themselves caused her miscarriage.

And historically speaking, in our world, the best rulers have been women (who also never picked up a sword in their lives).

[gulnarsultan]

Yandere mother-in-law Visenya Targaryen and daughter-in-law reader and yandere husband Maegor Targaryen.

~ Maegor discovers his reader first. Although he was married to Ceryse for twelve years, he still had no heir. That's why he decided to look for a woman to give him heirs. After his father's death, he will make his decision alive after adopting the dragon named Balerion, known as the Black Horror.

~ He sees the reader when he goes to the Red Fort to attend a meeting. It will immediately gather information about who the reader is. Visenya doesn't know what to decide when Maegor asks her for help. However, as soon as she sees the reader, she develops inclinations towards the reader like her son.

~ She accepts her as a daughter he never had. She believes wholeheartedly that the reader will be able to give her many grandchildren. She will encourage his son's inclinations. This does not give a good result at all. Maegor King asks his brother to annul his marriage to Ceryse. If this is not accepted, she asks permission to take the Reader as his second wife. If both requests are not accepted, he will choose another path. He gets angry and will hold grudges against his brother, the council, and anyone who opposes his wishes.

~ Maegor will make a plan to take you by force. But Queen Visenya will be more cunning. She would take you as her bridesmaid and make everyone look like you died. Maegor had immediately accepted this plan. You are soon sent to Dragonstone as Queen Visenya's bridesmaid. For a few weeks, Queen Visenya chooses to wait for you to get used to them. After a few weeks, Queen Visenya says she wants to marry you off to her son. At first you object. But for the sake of your family and Westeros, you are forced to accept his plans. They lie to everyone that you are dead. Many believe this.

~ You soon marry Maegor in accordance with both Valyrian and Westeros traditions. Queen Visenya is preparing you for the evening. Maegor is trying his best not to hurt you all night long. Maegor no longer goes to his first wife's bed. Even if Ceryse suspects something, Queen Visenya silences her. He spends every night with you. She spends every opportunity she gets with you.

~ It turns out that you are pregnant almost a month after your marriage. Maegor is very proud and Queen Visenya is very happy. Queen Visenya is spending time with you and her unborn grandchild. You are trapped by two possessive dragons that stay on top of your head throughout your pregnancy.The best food for you and the baby is brought to the Castle from various parts of Westeros.

~ You don't get rid of these two dragons even while giving birth. If you ask your mother or another family member, they will say that they are your only family and that they are with you. They do not agree to leave your side until the birth is over. They don't leave you alone no matter how long it takes. Queen Visenya wipes the sweat from your forehead and face with a cloth. Maegor holds your hand with one hand, while the other supports you on your shoulder. They both support you verbally. Maegor gently puts pressure on your belly so that the baby can come out when needed.

~ The gender of the baby born is not important. As long as you and the baby are healthy, they don't care. Maegor will say that he is not disappointed or upset that he is not the son. You will try until you become a son. Queen Visenya agrees with her son. If it's a girl, she'll want to name the baby after herself.

~ Visenya will take care of you until you are fully recovered. For the second child, he will order his son not to approach you until your body is fully healed. He refuses to put you in danger. Maegor readily agrees so as not to endanger you.

~ Queen Visenya will teach the baby Valyrian language and history. She will learn how to use swords and other weapons from her grandmother and from the best masters. Maegor will go for rides on Dragon's back with his child.

~ Every child you give birth to is loved by them.They will all be pampered and protected. They will burn anyone who tries to harm or insult them. Maegor is trying to get you pregnant as best he can. Queen Visenya wants you to give birth to her grandchildren as long as they don't harm your health. Maegor tries very hard to be the best father for children.

~ They panic a lot when you get sick or injured. They don't stop worrying until you get better and regain yourself. They will take care of you until you regain your health. They cannot entrust you to anyone in your sensitive state.

~ They're showering you with lots of presents. Clothes, jewellery, gold, luxury and expensive fabrics, books, works of art and much more. They will provide all the necessary things so that you can do your hobbies while you are in your room.

~ Maegor would never cheat on you. From the day he married you, he does not look at or touch any other woman. Even his first wife, Ceryseni, will no longer visit. No one can tell Maegor anything about it. If Cerys and her family try to do anything about it, Maegor and Queen Visenya will silence them.

~ Punishments will be more isolation. They prefer psychological and emotional punishments more. They do not hesitate to manipulate and use guilt against you when necessary.

~ You can't escape them in any way. Even if you run away, they will find you and bring you back no matter how long it takes. No one will help you with them. (Because they are afraid.) If anyone helps, they will execute them all.

[aelenavelaryon]

𝓡𝓱𝓪𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓮 𝓣𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓮𝓷 𝔁 𝓱𝓸𝓽𝓭

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓱𝓮 𝓓𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓸𝓷 𝓲𝓲

Trigger Warnings: death and childbirths. If there are more please let me know

Princess Rhaelle never let Alicent get in the way of seeing her brothers and sister. In return, the young princes and princess grew up knowing they were loved and cared for. Princess Helaena was set to marry her nephew, prince Monterys, the young boy loved his aunt as much as she loved him. The children were still young but soon enough they would marry. Lady Laena and prince Daemon left King's Landing after an argument between the young princess and her uncle. No one knew what the argument was about, not even Laena or Laenor.

The Keep was lively with all the children running around. Princess Rhaelle was expecting her seventh child, Laenor was always watching over her, he, despite having other taste loved his wife, it was odd to say the least but they did love each other yet they shared bed with others. Laenor knew this babe was to either be his child or the child of the Commander of the City watch. He didn't care though, he loved all his children, even the ones he did not sired.

"The queen has been quite as of late" Laenor said as he took a sip of his wine. Rhaelle nodded. "She has no other lies to spread. For now" she replied. "If this babe is mine she will say nothing. Your father as put her in her place and he has replace Otto with Lyonel Strong. The man keeps his son and grandsons protected no matter what" Rhaelle smile. Lyonel Strong was an honorable man and she knew it. When Harwin confessed to his father what had happened between him and the heir to the Iron Throne the man nearly collapsed where he stood.

But he knew that Jace and Luke were his blood and he had to protect them. Rhaelle made allies with other houses. House Stark was a match she had come to make. Her Visenya was to marry Cregan when she came of age as they were only two years apart. Monterys would marry Helaena. Jace would marry Nymeria Martell, Luke would marry Mariela Tyrell. Aegon would marry Baela and Aemond would marry Rhaena.

The matches were secured by Rhaelle and her hand, securing her reign with other houses. Aethan was to marry Morrigan Baratheon to strengthen the bond between the houses. Laenor had made allies with people in the Free Cities to farther support his wife.

Alicent Hightower plotted on how to end the princess. Her and Larys Strong always tried to find out ways to ruin the princess' reputation but they always failed as the princess was always one step ahead until once she wavered. When Laena was due to give birth the lady called her closest companion and friend, princess Rhaelle.

Princess Rhaelle, after hearing the news flew on dragon back to see her lover, Lady Laena. Although, pregnant and nearly her time to give birth as well, she discarded anyone's opinions and flew over to see her. "Laena!" she yelled as she tried to run. "Rhae, please!" Laenor begged as she left him behind. "She can't die on me, Laenor. Not her. Not Laena. Not my Laena" she nearly cried. Her steps echo in what seemed to be an empty hall. Rhaelle stopped and gathered herself before walking in.

Laena, smiled as she saw her lover. "Rhaelle" she began. "You came" she whispered. "You called" Rhaelle replied. She rushed to see her, she sat beside her. "I can't believe you're here"  Laena said tiredly. The woman has been in the birthing bed for hours now. Daemon waited outside, he didn't want to see Rhaelle just yet. He couldn't.

Rhaelle held Laena's hand as the two talked about what they had been doing since Daemon moved his family away. "I know my time has come, Rhae" Rhaelle shook her head. "You cannot leave me, Laena. You hear me?! I cannot do this without you" she cried.  Laena smiled at her dearest love. "I wish to ask for one last thing" Rhaelle nodded. "Anything" she told her.

Laena kissed Rhaelle's hand. "When my time comes I wish to have a dragon riders death. I don't want to be cut open. I just wish to go in peace" before Rhaelle could reply, Laena's labors pain came back but stronger. Rhaelle held her hand, she delivered Laena's son third daughter for her. "It's a girl, Laena. A beautiful baby girl" Rhaelle said with a smile as she held the baby girl in her arms. "I wish to name her" Daemon walked in. He laid eyes on his wife first before looking at Rhaelle. She simply nodded, acknowledging his presence.

She walked over to Laena first. She wanted her to get a chance at holding her child. "Here, take her" Laena seemed to be fighting to stay. "What will you name her?" Rhaelle asked. "Rhaella. In your name and honor" she replied and Rhaelle felt the sting her eyes. It wouldn't be long before the tears would come. "Oh, my sweet Laena" she said in a whisper before bending down to kiss her. "Promise me, Daemon..." Daemon walked over to her. "Promise me, that Rhaella will be loved, always. Promise that you and Rhaelle will watch over her and her sisters" Daemon nodded as did Rhaelle.

Lady Laena Velaryon passed away two hours after her daughter's birth. At Laena's funeral everyone had gathered to say their last goodbye. Rhaelle stood with her good mother, princess Rhaenys. Vaemond gave his speech and bid his goodbye to his niece. He had jabbed at Jacaerys and Lucerys blood but nothing got past Lord Corlys who glared at his brother. The funeral had ended and everyone had gathered near the beach to spend some time with the grieving family.

Princess Rhaelle sat with Ser Laenor both let the water feel them. "I miss her" he said in a hush tone. She held him by the arm. "I remember when we were little. We used to play the hiding game. We used to play that for hours" she smiled at the memory and he did too. "Do you remember when we accidentally found the secret passages because we had lost Laena?!" the two laughed at the memory of their sweet Laena.

Laenor kissed Rhaelle's hand. "Thank you" he said to her. "For what?" she asked. "For loving her as much as I did" he replied. "I love you as much as I love her" she replied before kissing him. Daemon watched her; jealousy brewing within him. Alicent watched them too, she hated the fact that Rhaelle was happy without her. It was never about the crown. It was always about her love. Rhaelle's love.

(Not Edited)

@beebeechaos

@baellabass

[teleit]

Questions I would like to ask Rhaenyra, part 2

These questions are still not the result of long and careful thought, but rather spontaneous nonsense that came to my mind, but someone has to ask, why not me?

11) Aegon's Prophecy - by what criteria did Viserys determine that the promised prince would be born through YOUR line? The only fundamental difference between Targtowers and you is Aemma Arryn. So the Arryns are the cornerstone of the promised prince's birth?

12) The prophecy again. Why did Viserys decide that HE had any relation to the promised prince? If there was no gender inequality in Old Valyria, then Rhaenys and Laena are the true heirs, so either Baela or Rhaena bears the burden of being the progenitor of the promised prince. Viserys was not chosen for any merit, but for having a penis.

13) And again - the prophecy. If this is a Targaryen prophecy, isn't it undermined by the dilution of blood? The Arryns, Strongs, and Velaryons all dilute the blood of true dragonriders (Velaryons are questionable, but still). If the blood is strong (heh), then with each generation, if Jace becomes king, not only the distinctive appearance but also the special magic of Valyria is lost, replaced by the magic of the Andals and the First Men? Appoint your Aegon as your heir, in that case.

14) Prophecy, fuck. Why do you think the prophecy will only come true if you are crowned? If the promised prince is born from your blood, just betroth your child/grandchild to the child/grandchild of King Aegon II, and there will be no need for war, bloodshed, and dragon slaying. Or do you care not about the fate of the world, but about power?

15) Are you sure, absolutely sure, that Aegon and Viserys won't grow up jealous of your three eldest children, who will get more than them, despite being bastards? Yes, the little ones idolize Jace as children, but is there any guarantee that Aegon will never feel bitter that as the first legitimate son of Queen Rhaenyra, he gets crumbs compared to a bastard? Daemon is their father, if there's one thing that man has in abundance, it's stupidity, impudence, and arrogance.

16) What makes YOU a special woman? Why should your rights be the only ones respected, and your ambitions respected? Why can't the daughters of House Stokeworth and House Rosby become heirs? If it's about your Varilian heritage and dragon ownership, why can't Baela, the eldest daughter of the eldest daughter of Corlys and Rhaenys, rule Driftmark?

17) What the hell is up with your inept wartime leadership? Why are you as unprepared to rule as your younger brother, who is only 21 and has never been trained to be a king? You've been an heir for 20+ years, why are you wringing your hands and acting like a fool during a crisis?

18) Why did Vermithor listen to you (I already know the answer - a pathetic jump over the shark, but I want to hear Rhaenyra's version)? It makes no sense, contradicts the lore, has no plot importance, and just looks forced and stupid.

19) Why, with THREE dragons at your disposal, didn't you go after Aemond? He killed your son, and you stand there grinning like an idiot!

20) What kind of mental gymnastics did you need to do to "son for son"? If we follow your reasoning, then for the death of your second son, Aemond should die as the second son, for the death of Jaeherys, Jacaerys or his and Baela's firstborn should be killed, if you want Aegon to die, then you can kill your Aegon as a namesake, or your firstborn. If you also want "a daughter for a daughter", then who should be killed for Visenya - Helaena or Jaehaera? What parameters should be entered into these calculations?

21) Speaking of Visenya. Why the fuck do you blame the greens for the death of your unviable child? The girl had a hole in her chest, it's not something that can be fixed by simply carrying her to term.

I was promised protection, so I'm not afraid to ask these questions =) Maybe there will be a third part, if I still delve into this topic, and not catch what is on the surface.

[emptyportrait]

the hypocrisy of asoiaf/hotd fandom

it's actually quite funny to see how the self proclaimed "targaryenphobics" here loves aegon ii and aemond so much despite of how these two quite literally embodies every single problematic traits y'all claim to hate every other targaryen for.

they're are greedy feudal royals who started the deadliest war of westeros history because they couldn’t stomach watching a woman accending on iron throne on her own rights, commited a coup to put a serial sexual assaulter on the highest position in the realm while killing multiple lords for simply being loyal to their oaths along with numerous innocent smallfolk, violently misogynist who cannot speak of rhaenyra without calling her a whore, war criminals who murdered hundred of thousands innocents without any consequence, brutally murdered their own kin and the rightful queen in front of her son and instead of getting bashed i see people glorifying them for doing such atrocities. they are truly the inherent evil everyone accuse every other targaryens of being and are the worst targaryens of history and yet somehow they don’t get the same backlash as others.

i'd also like to point out how so many of people like to pretend as they're not targaryen or they're better than all other targaryens combined but in the next breathe the same people brag about how special the green's bond with their dragons are, how no other targaryens come close to it, nevermind that sunfyre's ashes wasn’t even cold when aegon ii disregarded him completely, demanding he must have another dragon, I'd expect different reaction from a person who as team green supporters like to say had the strongest dragon-rider bond in history. i saw some saying not even daenerys stormborn the goddamn mother of dragons can match it.

not gonna lie i'm quite surprised to see other targaryens, especially the women character such as daenerys, rhaenyra, visenya constantly being labeled as satan incarnated over the silliest reasons but never these two despicable man, they don’t even get half the hate as these ladies gets and i wonder why...

[rainy-writers]

poor pitiful greens, who would’ve been slaughtered had Rhaenyra taken the throne. They had every right to usurp her because obviously they and their children deserve to live…obviously they deserve to live more than Jace, Luke, little Joffery, Aegon, Viserys, Baela and Rhaena who also would’ve been slaughtered had the Greens succeeded, right?

It kills me when people say that the greens would have been slaughtered had Rhaenyra taken the throne because they were too much of a challenge and use that to justify usurping her. Like you do realize…if they’re a challenge to Rhaenyra and her kids then it’s vice versa? If they can’t live while Rhaenyra reigns then that means Rhaenyra’s kids can’t either. But apparently it’s okay for Jace, Luke, Joffery, Viserys, Aegon, Baela and Rhaena to die if it means your favs get to win. All of a sudden, you’re okay with children dying if it means a man can now rule Westeros. A woman and her innocent children dying is okay to you because what? It’s “normal for a woman to rule?” Aegon should be King because…he’s a man? Because Viserys spent years advocating for him, right? Because this rapist, abuser piece of shit and his psychotic brothers who burned millions and allowed for the rape of little girls are somehow better than their sister who only raised taxes?

Alicent can fear for her children’s lives against the woman who’d never even think about harming them, but Rhaenyra can’t fear for her kids—who Alicent literally tried to get executed for years?

And don’t give that bullshit: the Greens would never!

Uh, canonically, they did! Unprovoked! Before they even got the fucking throne! They did it with Rhaenys and Luke—who, no matter much you call him Strong, is still related to them from Rhaenyra. Team Green has personally harmed their own family, their own blood in broad daylight and have celebrated doing so, so what makes you think they’d spare the rest? What honestly makes you think they’d let them live? Luke was a child, so no, even the children wouldn’t be spared.

Alicent has spent over twenty years fear mongering and terrorizing her own children to the point where it just could not happen. They would execute every single one of the Team Black kids down to Visenya if she had lived.

Yes they would’ve killed two year old little Aegon and Viserys and they’d have been happy to do it. Lest we not forget these are the same people who threw a party, canonically, when Luke was killed so…yeah. Aemond and Daeron probably would’ve forcibly married Baela and Rhaena and raped them…But that’s okay to you people, right? Because at least it isn’t happening to the fucking misogynist Greens who didn’t deserve the throne anyways.

The difference between them and Rhaenyra is that she has never given any indications that she thinks Kinslaying is right. Book or show, Rhaenyra understands the weight of such titles and what it would mean. She understands it would forever stain the name Targaryen if she killed not one, but SIX members of her own family. Obviously it’s this fucking Rhaneyra that would’ve killed them all though, right? It’s Rhaenyra, and not the Greens or her idiot brothers who canonically been classified as Kinslayers and usurpers, who would not have let TG live.

Book or show, you cannot even argue that they’re not Kinslayers because hopefully even TG stans aren’t so delusional to outright deny what we’ve seen. Which means that YES, they would’ve killed all those kids and then used their big scary dragons to terrorize anyone who didn’t agree—as they did the exact same media you’re seeing them in.

In the same book or show, nothing ever indicates that Rhaenyra would kill them. In fact, she actively gives them a chance to bend the knee after they kill her son, and furthermore, she does not spend years terrorizing her children with the idea they’ll be slaughtered so they have to kill the other side, even the children, because if not they’ll do the same to them.

The only difference in this scenario is that the people who raised the TB kids would have spared the Greens, while the people who have been raised to be hateful and spiteful against even the innocent people in their family would’ve given the TB kid’s death not second thought.

You guys simply don’t understand the tabooness of Kinslaying, and it’s becoming a popular trend that people think you can just get away with it and nothing will happen. You cannot just go around killing people of your own fucking family with no consequences. No matter how delusional you and Alicent might be, it cannot happen without major consequences. It’s the main reason majority of Westeros DID NOT support the greens bc it’s an AWFUL thing to do. There is nothing worse to the people of Westeros than a Kinslayer, not even a rapist. It is the ultimate crime to commit and it shows your lack of understanding of this world if you think Rhaenyra would just do this. Even if you don’t like her, her character was described as someone that would NEVER.

Meanwhile, you know who went down in history for doing this? Not once but twice? And one of those was a child? You know who still fucking did and was willing to keep doing it until an entire side of their family was wiped out?

The Greens.

The difference between them and Team Black is that TG spent twenty years harboring hate for a woman and her kids who did not even give them a second thought. It’s almost laughable how unimportant they were to Rhaenyra until the day they killed her son. The day Aemond killed Luke and Aegon threw a feast to celebrate the worst crime imaginable to a Kingdom he was supposed to rule, is the day you should’ve realized how different and how much more deserving Rhaenyra Targaryen is compared to her monster brothers.

I do not fucking care that Alicent was young and dumb and manipulated once. The women who poisoned her own children, the woman who was willing to kill a fucking newborn and said I quote,

“I hope the whore dies in childbirth.” Was a grown ass adult and would not show an inch of mercy. Even show!Alicent would have no choice, because it was her idiot planning that put her psychopath of a son in the ultimate position of power so she couldn’t even stop it if she tried.

So tell me, what makes you think Helaena, Aemond, Aegon (who were all adults during the dance, mind you), Jaehaera, Maelor, and Jaehaerys deserve to live more than Jace, Luke, Joffrey, Baela, Rhaena, Aegon, Viserys, Visenya (possibly), or anyone that stood as a threat to Aegon’s reign?

Surely you can’t say it’s because Jaehaera, Maelor, and Jaehaerys are just children.

You root for the one Team whose succession will end up with them all dead, as canonically it did, instead of the woman that would’ve spared them. Book or show, there’s never any evidence she would harm them unlike the literal people you root for. There’s only one scenario where everyone lives and it’s when Rhaenyra Targaryen sit the throne. Because we’ve seen how well it turned out for those kids and everyone when she was usurped, so rooting for Team Green bc you want to ‘spare the children’ is a contradiction in itself.

Or, just say you’re a misogynistic asshole like we already know and be done with it.

[rosetintedsstuff]

The asoiaf fandom is genuinely filled with so much misogyny. It makes me sick. Female characters in this universe can literally do nothing right. Tell me why I just saw a reddit post asking people their opinion on who the worst character was and among comments about some of the most disgusting men in the show (Ramsay, Joffrey, Craster, Euron) was SANSA. Sansa Stark, a little girl, is worse to some people in this fandom than a murderer, a r*pist, a p*do. That is INSANE. We get a young girl who is innocent and naive and is thrown into a world of abuse and suddenly she's labelled as 'annoying' because she cries. We get a strong, warrior woman and all that's said about her is that she'll never be as strong as her male counterpart. Visenya Targaryen, for example. Described as being 'as much a warrior as Aegon,' rides one of the largest dragons in the world, wields dark sister, cut down her own assassin, was in charge of most of the ruling of the seven kingdoms, yet men in this fandom still claim that she will never be as strong as Aegon. We get a politically smart female character and she's labelled as a liar and a manipulator, whilst politically smart male characters are geniuses. Anyway, free asoiaf women.

[countrymusiclover]

1 - Two Different Princes

Part 2

A Wolf Among Dragons

Tag list ( just ask to be added ) @tallrock35 @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea @immyowndefender

Author note - if I am getting anything wrong about Daemon or Aemond's characters please let me know how I can fix it for later chapters

At the age of ten and seven I was sent to King's Landing to get used to living my forever life with the King's brother who was to be my husband in the coming days. I wasn’t a fool who was going to believe that love would come from this arrangement. For he was much older than I was and had much more freedom. I thought wrong to my somewhat delight.

“Where are we going, Daemon?” I questioned once he had snuck down to my chambers and awoken me from my sleep.

He insisted that he must show me something that second. He was dressed in an all black cloak with the hood over his easily recognizable Targaryen white hair. “Just wait a minute and you’ll find out. Honestly I never thought you’d be this curious.”

“Simply because I was born a woman I’m told what things I am allowed to know and what I’m not.”

Daemon kept one hand around my forearm leading me out into a large pit like room with many torches lit to provide light in the room. “You’ll not be able to not do something when we’re wed. Just as long as you don't go against your new family. Does that sound like a good arrangement to you, little wolf?”

“Yes, my prince.” He squeezed my arm a little harshly, making me wince but I saw a smirk crossing his face once I had addressed him by his royal title meaning he liked it.

Daemon moved a few steps closer before I saw something coming to us in the light coming off the torch he was carrying in his other hand. “Drakari pykiros, tikummo jemiros, Yn lantyz bartossa , Saelot vaedis, hen nuha eleni, perzyssy vestretis, se gelyn irudaks, anogrose. Perzyo udryssi eztmptos laehossi, harossa letagon, aot vaedan, Hae merot gieruli se haros bartossi, prumysa sovili. ( Fire breather, winged leader, but two heads, to a third sing, from my voice, the fires have spoken and the price has been paid. With blood magic, with words of flame, with clear eyes, to bind the three, to you I sing as one we gather and with three heads we shall fly as we were destined ).”

“By all the gods and new.” I sharply gasped, hanging my mouth open in shock seeing a large dragon head appear above us.

Daemon gazed down at me then briefly at his dragon. “His name is Caraxes and he’s my dragon.”

Caraxes intensely stared down at me and Daemon but by some miracle I wasn’t afraid around the large creature. Especially when I had Daemon beside me, although if he didn’t want to marry me he could very well kill me right now and no one would know. “So what do you think of him-“

I cut him off mid sentence, crashing my lips up onto his letting whatever excitement I was feeling take complete control over me. He leans his body against my chest deepening the kiss and I couldn’t resist doing the same after I had wrapped my arms around his neck.

Daemon finally was the one to break the very heated kiss between two people who weren’t yet married so if anyone had seen it would be found indecent. “Daemon - forgive me , my prince. I shouldn’t have done that.” Looking into his purple eyes I knew I had messed up and done something I shouldn’t have.

“Oohhh Lehna you and I are going to have so much fun together.” He cupped my face in his hands, crashing his lips down onto mine with the same passion I had moments ago.

“Visenya, get back here!” I called out for my six year old daughter who was running so fast ahead of me I wasn't too sure I'd ever catch up with her.

She stuck her tongue out at me looking over her shoulder before rounding the corner and I heard her bump into someone and objects falling onto the stone floor. “Catch me, momma - ow!”

“Are you hurt - Prince Aemond!” I gasped finding her being helped off the ground by the youngest son of Alicent Hightower who had married King Viserys after the death of his former wife Aemma years after I had spent a majority of my life inside the Red Keep.

The current queen had produced two boys and one girl in that time while I had produced two at one time. Daemon’s son Caraxes, named after his loyal dragon, was always attached to his father’s side if he could help it. “You don’t need to be so startled, my lady. The young girl merely slipped on my sword is all. No harm to either of us.”

“Gods be good then. I must apologize again, my prince. We were simply playing tag and she got further away from me than I originally intended.” I gave him a curtsy knowing my place as the wife of Prince Daemon was no more. Meaning I needed to address the young man correctly before.

Aemond rose up from the floor scooping up my daughter with her white hair and my brown eyes into his arms walking up to me slowly. “She’s a little beauty just like her mother.”

“Thank you, my prince.” I smiled, taking her from his arms where he noticed a blade holder on the side of my hip that was hidden underneath one of the layers of my dress.

“Do you carry a sword, my lady?”

Nodding my head slowly, yes I simply answered his question. “I do. My husband saw no reason why I couldn’t be allowed to be taught most things most men think are beneath them or something they can’t comprehend like we’re dumb.”

“You are rather intriguing, lady Lehna.” Aemond smirked back at me.

I blushed uncontrollably. “Thank you, my prince.”

“Call me Aemond. It shall make the conversation much easier between us.”

Visenya laid her head on the crook of my neck, getting bored of our conversation. “Momma, I’m sleepy.” She rubbed her closed eyes with her tiny hands yawning.

“I should be getting her to bed, my pri - Aemond.”

Aemond tilted his head to the side suggesting an alternative option rather than letting our conversation end here and now. “Perhaps we could keep talking after you put her down for a nap. If your husband doesn’t need you, hmm.”

“I don’t have any other obligations at the moment. Walk with me and we can keep talking.” I gestured my head over my shoulder back in the direction of my shared chambers with Daemon.

Aemond raised up a hand forward before we began our walk back where I had previously come from. “After you, lady Lehna.” I wasn’t sure what was going to come of this yet I had no desire to see him leave while Daemon was down in the streets leading the Citywatch of Gold Cloaks.