#aerion targaryen (lord of dragonstone)

[sarcasticsweetlara]

The Pre-Conquest Targaryens are so interesting!

Surely Balerion or another dragon from Valyria flying in the sky was part of their emblem (black and blue would be their colors).

Daenys and Gaemon ruled over their half-siblings while acclimating to the culture of Westeros and one of their daughters married a petty lord, the other ones married Targaryen cousins.

And some cousins of Aegon and Elaena (Lord and Lady of Dragonstone and the first children of Daenys and Gaemon) must have married Velaryons to keep their blood pure and make an alliance with House Velaryon.

Maegon (in my mind, father of Naerys who was the mother of Valaena Velaryon) and Aerys married cousins, and the brothers Aelyx (my headcanon is that his daughter married into House Massey and was the mother of Alarra Massey), Baelon, and Daemion could have married maidens of House Velaryon; and let's say Aelyx and Baelon only had daughters as was the case of the other daughters of Daenys and Gaemon, we can see the Valyrians do have male preferred inheritance, as Daenys and Elaena are implied to be both the eldest child of their parents.

Aerion married Valaena and they were focused on keeping power in Essos and encouraging their children to keep expanding the domains of the Targaryens, and they did indeed.

Pre-Conquest Targaryens set the example for the Conquerors.

[venmondiese]

A PRINCE’S FAREWELL

masterlist ✧works in procress ✧ AO3

-ˋˏsummary: As Prince Aemond prepares to fight at Rook Rest, you accompany him before he departs.

✧Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader.

✧word count: 2.3k

✧Warnings: : MDNI 18+, oral (f), aemond being a pussy eating champ (canon), and he lowkey gets hard from his own arrogance.

✧NOTE: i saved these from drafts, this was supposed to come out after episode 4, so all the events are from ep 4.

AEGON'S PARALLEL ONE SHOT: A king's farewell

“He is an imbecile” Aemond states, as he places the eyepatch carefully on his head. He has finished putting on his riding clothes, and after coming from the council, he seems more than upset.

“He is the King” you say to your husband, sitting on the bed as you watch him get ready. Your right leg was above the other, bouncing your feet softly in amusement, your skirts moving with the motion. “Imbecile or not”

“We made him the King.” Aemond remarks sharply, clearly upset. You could see it in how he moves. How his jaw clenches and he sighs, almost growling in annoyance. “He doesn’t appreciate it”

You hum, looking at him get ready. He was meticulous, getting every detail good. Making sure his riding clothes were well clasped, and would support the movements of the wind. 

“Are you sure some of Rhaenyra’s dragons will go there? I mean… it sounds risky”

“Blacks are stupid like that” he murmurs. “Predictable” he says softly. “Lord Staunton sent a cry for help to his whorish pretender of a Queen” 

You look at him; he speaks as if he was an omniscient god, who knew exactly everyone’s steps in a war. It was kind of arousing.

 “It isn’t too hard to guess. Dragonstone will be trapped, an isle among loyalists of the True King. Only threat is Meleys, Caraxes is far… at Harrenhal. And the rest of them? Spoiled little dragons that never had seen any war. A very good food for Vhagar” He says confidently. “And yet that so-called Queen has to find allies.” He says, almost in amusement.

You watch him move, taking the gloves as he stands before you, putting the gloves on.

“He froze, like a stupid deer in a hunt” he says, the slight smirk on his lips are a sight of his amusement of the whole deal. “He doesn’t recall the last time he took a High Valyrian class from the Maesters…” 

“Aemond” you say, smiling and tilting your head as that humiliation gave him a sense of smugness. 

“It is true. He just babbled some words. Our little son can speak better and he is just babe” 

You nod, appreciating the fact. Your son was probably the thing that Aemond was most proud of. He doted on Aerion always, and you kept thanking the gods that when the murderers of prince Jaehaerys were in the castle, you had been with the maesters, as your baby was sickly, and he didn't manage to be healthy for long. 

“He is two, and he's starting to make some sense in common tongue” you remind him. “He babbles some Valyrian words”

“He is still better than that… idiot” Aemond murmurs. “It was… he deserved it. After he has done” he murmurs, turning away as he fetches the scabbard, and his own sword. 

“You mean…?” you ask, moving your legs to place both feet on the ground, witting more straight up.

Aemond stops a bit on his tracks. Imbecile, you imbecile. He thinks, as he turns to you. Your eyes look at him with curiosity, following his every movement and you didn’t miss a thing he spoke. It was as refreshing as frustrating. 

It wasn’t that he isn’t fond of you. It’s just that there are things that you are better without knowing, and after all, he was not above the temptations of the flesh and the need of being vulnerable. He couldn’t be that with you. 

“What did he do to deserve this cruelty?” you ask softly, standing up.

“What hasn’t he done…?” He murmurs, trying to not make obvious his coldness. 

“You mean… when he teased you as kids?” You ask, as it was the only occasion you recalled.

“Hm” he hums, not really wanting a reminder of that. Less the night at the brothel, when Aegon found him with the Madame. He tried to play it cool, but he walked rather quickly to the castle, and to your shared chambers, instead of his personal one, slipping in his side of the bed, and leaving his sword near. If Aegon tried anything with you near, Aemond would have cut his head. And his drunkard King’s guard would have not been able to stop him.

And he smirks at that. Who would stop him now? Cole was away. His mother didn’t speak to him. His grandsire away. Aegon could barely rule the Kingdom, and his King’s guard was useless. More and more with idiotic people like him.

If Aemond was on his place– 

He would have done things differently. Would have not underestimated traditions, and would have not changed something as vital as white cloaks. He has to do, instead, all of the work to get castles and strategic support on war. All by himself. 

“Let's say Aegon will not underestimate me” he says, as you take the leathery scabbard from his hands, moving the strap to place it on his shoulder, moving delicately to help him put it on.

“He is your brother. He is… hurt. His son just died” Aemond sighs, as he had confided in you the knowledge of how Blood and Cheese were meant for him.

“Yes. I know” he murmurs.

“And he called you the best sword and his closest blood” you remind him.

“Those are not compliments” he murmurs. 

You look at him, and smirk, knowing what he thought “Are facts, as you say.” you finish for him. “Still, my love, you are serving him in the greatest of ways” you say making sure the scabbard won’t fall or isn’t well secured.

He hums; you are praising him and encouraging him to follow his own strategies for war, instead of asking the whole council. You nuzzle his cheek, kissing softly there.

“Hm.” He says, a bit delighted by your presence. Soothes his need for destruction. 

“Just like I like to serve you in the greatest of ways as a wife” you murmur, pressing soft kisses on his jaw.

His hum comes up is raspy, as he places a hand on your lower back, gripping softly there as he enjoys your pampering.

“Stop delighting yourself in the memory of humiliating Aegon” you say, as if you could read his mind. He was not thinking of that, but the smirk on his lips was one of amusement.

As you turn back to sit on the edge of the bed, he takes his sword, moving closer to you, as he stands in front of you on the bed, leaving the sword on the table nearby. 

“You should have seen it.” he murmurs, smiling. “Poor idiot” he says. “You speak High Valyrian better than he does”

You, of no Valyrian heritage as Targaryen’s, knew some words, but only thanks to him. He insisted, for you to know a bit. You could speak it, but read it in its raw form? Horrible. You could understand some books, only if High Valyrian was romanized. 

“Sepār mirrī” (just a little) you say, a bit messy, but he smiles at your words. 

He was much more fluent at High Valyrian than anyone else you knew. You had heard Princess Rhaenyra or Prince Daemon, rawer. Aemond took it in the time to learn it more fluently. You thought that perhaps it was the difference of teachers. Still, it sounded delightful.

To have him whisper in High Valyrian was a taste of heaven. 

“Iēdrosa, sȳrkta. Issa iā mittys” (Still, Better. He is a fool) he murmurs, as he knelt in front of you, his hands on your thighs as he accommodates.

His hands move down, as you look at him, his face at the height of your clavicle. His eyes are deep, looking at you with calculating moves. That has been your husband since the war started. He was always looking with careful and almost cold eyes, slightly smug and drunk on the excitement and promise of war. 

“Ao'll ūndegon.  Kesan ērinagon bisa vīlībāzma, syt kesan daor sagon iā mittys dombo.  Gaoman bisa syt īlva lentor.” He murmurs, sweetly, as he moves his hands under the skirt of your dress, smiling a bit. 

You raise your eyebrows, a bit in confusion. He was obviously advanced in High Valyrian, probably fluent as the natives back in the day. You didn’t understand much, barely the words war and win. 

“What are you doing?” You ask curiously as his hands slide up under your skirts, and he looks at you, as his lips curl into the faintest smirk. 

“I think I need luck before going and killing a dragon” He murmurs. “If this plan is to work.”

You indulge him, as he moves your skirts all the way up, he is quick to accommodate between your open legs, and he moves your underclothes rather quickly, and much more when you are wearing so many cloth layers. 

“That is so silly….” You say, as he eagerly pulls down your underclothes “This will not make you win–”

“It will. A proper farewell too” he says, his only eye feasting on your glistening folds, seeing how you made no attempts to refuse him. “Hm.” He hums before pressing his mouth to your cunt.

His tongue snaked out, moving it up all the way in your folds as he heard your satisfied sigh. He loved all the little sounds you let out while he pleasures you. Aemond was a lustful man, not openly, but rather a subtle yet passionate lover. 

His tongue laps on your cunt, relishing on the taste that he has neglected as of late. He used to do it often, making you cum two or three times, depending on his mood. He would stay hours, if permitted, eating you out. 

He closes his one eye, pure bliss on his expression as his hands wrap around your thighs to scoop you closer and he also presses his face closer to your cunt. 

The whimpers you leave, feeling the tip of his nose tease on your folds, drives him insane. He is rock hard on his pants, his tongue moving more at the idea of fucking you. His nose slightly presses more into your cunt, searching a bit blindly to where is your clit, just to hear the loud moan you leave, and how your hands grip the edge of the bed as you do so.

“Valzȳrys…”  you whimper, legs moving a bit more open as he has to groan. Fucking tease, he thinks, with your perfect Valyrian that turns him on so much.

His tongue works double after that, as if it was a little incentive for his own delight. The jaw moves, tensing a bit as his tongue keeps on working, delving deeper into her dripping pussy. He feels the slickness of your arousal, as his face is buried and he can only feel the heat and wetness of it all. 

You feel how his hand grabs yours, interlocking your fingers together as he keeps on feasting on your cunt. It was driving you mad. Each little stroke with his tongue made you roll your eyes and re accommodate your hips closer to his head, almost grinding to ride his face, needing the comfort and pleasure that only he brings you.

“Fuck, Aemond…” you moan, and she gives a small slap on your thigh with his other hand, as you curse. 

Aemond groans as he feels one of your legs, which were above his shoulder, pressing down on his back as your feet seem to push him closer and closer, trying anyhow to keep him eating you out until you cum. That's his wish as well, as he hears your pretty moans and feels your legs quivering a bit. 

“I could eat you…” he is obscene as he slurps, on purpose, trying to be as lewd and loud. “For hours… for years” 

“Don’t tease” the way the weight on your feet on his back gets more evident, he knows you are desperate. 

“Not teasing” he says, moving your skirts, better said, crushing them down so he can look at your face, his lips, chin and even his nose are shiny from your arousal, and the image is obscene. “I’m dead serious. Once I come back-, as a winner, you’ll sit on my face for hours.”

He is a man possessed, as he just keeps going and going, occasionally spitting over your cunt and moving his nose over it, as if he was nuzzling like a cat. His hands are firm, he was not making any effort to allow you to move away, just to remain there and allow him to have his own delight before going to battle. 

He nips at your clit, making the filthiest sounds fall from your mouth, almost making him go insane. His jaw goes slack, lapping at your cunt as he can feel the flesh clenching greedily at something that isn’t there. He just knows you crave to be fucked.

His fingers, with some of your own dripping arousal, move to caress your clit as his tongue is busy with your hole. You feel the circular movements around your little clit, and you moan loudly.

“Fuck, Aem-!” You cry out loud “I’mgonnacum” your words come slurred, as your legs try to squeeze his head, yet he isn’t one to coward. 

He allows you to cum on his face, soaking his mouth and skin, as he relishes the taste of your cum. He is greedy, and he intends to swallow every bit that he can. 

The aftermath is a bit dizzy as he accommodates your dress, and he watches your face as you reincorporate on your seat, trying for your lungs to remember how to breathe properly, as you pant from exhaustion.

“Come back” you say softly, looking at him. “Please.”

Aemond hums, standing up, moving to accommodate his clothes and eye patch, along with his hair. He was not one of much affection; they were always strange to him yet he did his best to please you with little kisses and such. 

“I promise you.” He says simply, grabbing his sword with a determined expression. “I will come back alive, and all of them coward traitors to my kin will die. The throne and the victory shall be ours, and for good.”

thank you for reading!! reblogs, likes and comments are not necessary but well appreciated ♡

[gladiatorcunt]

- DO LEVIATHANS DREAM OF ALIENS? | 1a.

this is a low flying panic attack (cybersex is holy)

cw: kinktober prompt (aliens made them do it - bc he asked them too), nonconsensual voyeurism, extreme dubcon, yandere jacaerys, reader has a pussy, 4.6k of porn with plot, getting your back blown out in the 2001: a space odyssey trip scene, inspired by the mentioned movie, old valyria lore and obvious au where the valyrian gods are aliens, restraints, stray mpreg mention at the beginning, world building before the fucking, pussy slapping, piss kink mention

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

2 BC, Gaelithox Star System inhabitant number 616. Subject Name: Earth (Human Outreach Base)

In the wake of doom, the world smoldered. Every realm, known and unknown, was reduced to scalding ash. Except for a volcanic island guarding the entrance to Blackwater Bay by the name of Dragonstone. A century later in his eternal wisdom, Lord Aerion Targaryen set his three children, Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys to take to their dragons and scour the vast emptiness for a miracle. In another universe, there were countless bounties to acquire and lush land to conquer, gilded crowns to pass on to the heirs shared between them. However, this was not to be. Visenya’s sharp eyes spotted gigantic chunks of metal in the narrow sea that resembled castles. One was as black as her brother’s dragon’s, Balerion, scales and as all encompassing as the volcano Valyria’s capital city was built in. The other, a muddier brick red with specks of green and even bigger than the former. She shouted to her siblings, pointing and informing them that she was going to land Vhagar on one of them. Rhaenys and Meraxes followed quickly after her, then Aegon and Balerion.

The violent winds assaulted their skin as they dove down, their blood rushed to their hands and caused a pounding sensation in their ears. It felt akin to a leap of faith, they were lighting a match and tossing it onto a pile of Godswood. Blasphemous and crazed. When flayed open, Targaryens are revealed to be plundering leeches with flaming branches for veins. Birthed from white fire, they are harbingers of calamity and tragedy, some say the heat slowly singes their bones and then their brain until they die. Ripping through an ill-omened husk that wails tears of blood and exhales soot.

All three dragons hissed as their claws kissed the unfamiliar material. It was only for a moment, and strangely they titled their heads up and roared into the skies in unison, a jubilant chorus as if they were connecting with the truest parts of themselves. Visenya and her siblings watched in confusion until they were done. Then their focus shifted to the ginormous metal ovals beneath their feet, Visenya and Rhaenys were on the smaller one while Aegon was on the largest of the two. He walked along the cool surface and stopped at what appeared to be a window of sorts, an opening into the inner workings of the beguiling monolith. Before he could consult with his sisters, he tossed them a self assured grin, pulled open the hatch, and jumped boot clad feet first through it.

When he landed with a harsh grunt and the feeling of his bones being briefly jostled, he discovers that the inside closely resembles the innards of a ship. Unlike the traditional boats that traverse on water with their sails made of flax and their hard wooden bodies, this one seemed to be purely metal. Sleek and shiny, light coming from the opening bounced off of his sword as he used it to gain a feel for his surroundings. It was just as massive on the inside, he had the thought that you could very well fit every major family of Old Valyria in there along with their dragons. Though he did not mind being part of the only ones who could benefit from it, perhaps it was the gods' choice to allow only them to survive.

There were many flashy brightly colored knobs, and Aegon felt out of his depth at the sheer amount of them. A command center maybe, a gravelly voice inside him whispered, controls the entire ship and every single facet of it. He would have to explore this specific mechanism further with Visenya, his eyes wandered elsewhere down the hall to his left. The shadows beckoned him forward, and forward he went.

As he explored the ship, Aegon mentally noted the presence of personal quarters, kitchens, places in which one could conduct work, and all the things one would essentially need to live a happy life. It bore familiar cornerstones of Valyrian architecture, winding spiral spires and exquisite detailing. There was even its very own dragon pit resembling the Bojurlion arena that once sat parallel to the palace in the civic center of Valyria, stables and all sorts of riding equipment and armor included. He strongly felt that such a thing surely proved that this was the miracle his Lord father had sent him to find, from the teats of the gods and into the lap of their chosen one. They must have delivered them a shelter and a way to blaze their trail anew, this time the flip of the coin was in the Targaryens’ favor.

To the Targaryens in the long gone days of Old Valyria, survival was a choice when you were doomed to be the middle of the pack, never soaring higher or lower than where the gods put you.

He climbed through the same opening hours later, eager to catch up with his sisters. It turns out that they had an adventure of their own, their ship was similar to the one Aegon had explored, though they described it as having a much lighter energy and a deceptively cozier atmosphere. The three siblings climbed aboard their dragons and took to the skies once more, carrying hope and fierce determination in their hearts. Lord Aerion was relieved to hear of the gods’ saving grace, and in no time at all, their belongings, dragons, and servants were all ushered into either of the two ships after numerous exhaustive back and forth journeys. Remnants of Old Valyria, maesters, descendants of blood mages from the Anogorian, workers from the bathhouses, soldiers who served in the Valyrian navy, and even merchants from the street markets.

It was quite the shock when the ships shook terribly as soon as their doors closed, and gasps wrung out when the main area was flooded with white light as the vessels rose into the heavens and beyond them.

Soon both ships teemed with life, Honorary Queens Rhaenys and Visenya were wed in Dragonstone’s church. They even had biological children with the help of maesters and the ship’s wildly advanced scientific center. A miraculous device allowed their DNA to mix together and be planted in Rhaenys’ womb, with no need for a man’s contribution. Two sons were born, Maegor and Aenys. On The Red Keep, King Aegon found love with the son of a blood mage newly finished with his apprenticeship, and soon they too were wed and bore heirs of their own. Three daughters, one named after Aegon’s first love, a Baratheon. As the centuries went by, these communities in space grew much like they would have on the ground, however they do dock on Dragonstone island occasionally. It was agreed that life would be better spent among the stars than battling to live to see the next day in the dirt. They took all their human ways with them though, buried under their jewels and extravagant lifestyles, their hierarchy and ruling class and debatable penchant for fire and blood.

124 AC, Gaelithox Star System inhabitant number 460. Subject Name: Valyrian Peninsula Cluster (Interior Quadrant)

It is said that The Red Keep eclipses the Earth’s sun but Dragonstone intimidates it, depicted as having a presence so foreboding that any celestial body dims when the insidious ship passes them by.

Hopeful Would-Be-Prince Jacaerys kneels before a marble statue of the Mother.

“There is something very wrong with me, Mother.” His shake, an icy chill floods through his veins in the lukewarm temperature controlled chapel. “A sickness… a hunger… today I nearly bent my servant over while they drew my bath and tongued their cunt, I do not know if their resistance would have stopped me.”

Their tears would have looked transcendent in the reflection of the steaming hot water.

The statue’s eyes glow and emit a monotone beeping sound, standard routine for every prayer and confession.

The usually pleasant and well mannered prince frets, chewing at his fingernail in thought. Artificial breeding is all too available an option, these days one merely has to go to a maester and undergo the procedure, creating almost spontaneous life from the DNA one already possesses. Such things do wonders for couples with incompatible reproductive organs and those that want to be parents on their own, but it’s not enough for Jacaerys.

You could still be distant. There is no corner of the ship where you are free from his reach, but the prince would very much prefer it if you did not feel the need to scurry off at all. He thinks of himself as a wondrously different young man in comparison to his uncles and stepfather, Jacaerys loves you like a dragon loves a sleep. Helpless to the fear of being devoured by his hunger, but he’d keep you and roll you into a cotton ball in his mouth, savoring the pristine hairs left behind in the grooves of his forked tongue.

Wrestling you and bringing your body to the maesters, watching as they plant his child in your womb, would be meaningless to him. He wants to say he’d conceived your children in your marriage bed, as his family had done for generations before him. The advancements in technology had caused a decline in the tradition’s popularity, and that is precisely why Jacaerys wishes they had never set foot for the stars. You’d be more capable of succumbing to him if you were made to endure the pleasure he knows you could feel, without the miracle procedure. You have not yet mentioned a desire to carry children, not that that topic typically is shared between a servant and their liege.

The population on the ship is declining, the Targryens not producing the numbers they have in the past and various deaths in the family and amongst the smallfolk being a couple of the reasons. Madness from a lifetime of staring out floor to ceiling to wall windows of the same sparkly abyss, the traditionalists who spurn the technological wonders of the gods and grapple with complications in childbirth, the murders brought on by cabin fever. Unfortunate events have given Jacaerys the answer, the gift of a perfect reason to have you. To indulge in the murky facets of his soul, nursing from your bitter burning cup of wine and you in turn his.

If he were to be so goddamn lucky as to be in the same room as you, you would stumble out of there with a tummy full of triplets and a bounty of stretch marks.

“I would give all I am and have to be a loving husband, a dutiful father, if you would see it fit for that to be my path.” He bows his head and brown curls cascade around his face, an angel in the mouth of the guillotine. “At least cure me of this ailment if not, I can hardly stand the teasing from my uncles when I lose focus during the training simulations.”

Nightmares are becoming dreams in my darkest hours.

“My deepest thanks for hearing my prayer, I… I apologize, it is rather foolish I admit. I am not sure what’s come over me.”

The statue's eyes dim and it whirs as it powers down upon the prince’s exit. A most trouble occurence for one of their very own, but once this message is approved and received, the Gods will know the apt solution. Dragon eggs are their own star systems too, the cracks betwixt specks of color in the scales their own constellations, and the men born from them are the apples of the gods’ chromatic rainbow eyes.

A ghostly roar nips at Jacaerys’ heels as he strides towards his chambers, kicking off and throttling the silver pipes.

“For what it is worth, I am of the opinion that your brown hair and brown eyes suit you. Being around your family is no different than going for a stroll in the snow, but you stand out as the tree of solace in the middle. Sturdy and warm in its own way, something you rest on when you grow weary of the world around you.”

Your widening eyes are the first things he sees when he next wakes up. Jacaerys is content to consider this a dream until he moves to brush some of his hair away from his face and is stopped by a harsh clang.

The universe is howling.

He looks down to see valyrian steel chains dragging on the floor attached to cuffs around his wrists. The chains are of considerable length, he imagines that he could walk around the entire room and never get the bindings to go tight. His cuffs are so loose they hardly serve their purpose at all, but his flesh stings when he attempts to touch them. They would likely singe his skin off to the bone if he was their true prisoner and resisted. You have similar ones, but as soon as Jacaerys relaxes his chains vanish and he sits up to take stock of the room you are being held in.

Something sort of like an atrium, gleaming metallic tones with high ceilings and a large divot in the floor where the bed you both are on stands. Tall pillars showcase scrolling led screens, high valyrian scrawlings are preserved and repeated in scarlet pixels. The walls are replaced by windows into the vast openness of space, but it is different from what Jacaerys is used to. Outside is a sea of pure black, neon colors make up the waves, they seem to continuously bleed and fold into each other at the midpoint. There are no stars, no planets, but if Jacaerys squints and pays close attention he can just about make out the heavy flap of leathery wings.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright.” The prince whispers, turning his focus to your panic and stroking a finger down your cheek. “If we were supposed to be dead, we would not even be having this conversation.”

“The princeling is correct. You are safe in *indistinguishable*, this designated facility, our audience chamber, so long as you comply with us and our own.” A chorus of deep and crackling voices boom all at once in both of your minds, their syllables and inflections in their speech overlapping and melding together. “We have heard his prayers for your companionship and have decided to grant Jacaerys Velaryon his heart’s deepest desire. For he has raised valid concerns, this blessing is a multi purpose one.”

“Think of it as a bedding ceremony, and all that that name implies. Once conception is confirmed, you will face the brunt of a painful headache as we leave you. When you stumble into slumber, whether wrapped in an embrace or seperate, vessel number *indistinguishable* Dragonstone will house you once more.”

You gasp as the voices go quiet, and Jacaerys knows you must be aware of the feeling of being watched. It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and gives you goosebumps down your forearms. Goose-pimpled flesh that Jacaerys traces with his fingertips, it’s the least he can do to give you a moment to calm down and get your bearings. Perhaps this is a sign that he has gone truly mad, because he can’t find the same trepidation in your expression within himself.

How often do prayers get answered? Yes, having a swarm of otherworldly all knowing beings witness your love making is quite unusual, but there is nothing Jacaerys would not put up with to form an everlasting covenant with you and your body. So he lays beside you, watching the fabric of your uniform shift and swish as you stretch your legs, a bumbling baby deer finding its footing.

He would smile and laugh, because he’d truly believe no one had ever been happier in their lives than he, but you probably would not take it all that well.

You shut your eyes tightly, either coming to grips with the bizarre reality you now found yourself in or desperately clinging to the hope that this was all a dream brought on by contaminated rations.

“M-my prince… this is not how i envisioned this moment.” You murmur at last, your eyes opening to meet his.

He wonders what you mean by that, could you really have wanted him in all the ways he has wanted you? Surely not all of them, but in the most basic and carnal of them.

Suddenly he knows in his bones that is what the two of you are meant to do, that this is so impossibly right that it must be woven in the grand fabric of fate’s design.

Jacaerys tuts and extends an offering of peace, entertaining his fingers with yours, “I’ll be gentle, this is my first time as well. It was not like I could practice without you finding out about it, I did not wish to hurt your feelings.”

Your brows pinch as he speaks, an instinctive coo gets trapped and tangled in his vocal chords. That expression is precisely why he is glad to be relying on scandalous hologram demonstrations and enticingly hedonistic data scrolls, amusingly numerous and often exuberantly descriptive. His confidence is triple what it was once years past, and Jacaerys would dearly love to lead you by example.

Fake it till you make it, but he is cocky enough now to believe you will never have to pretend in the first place.

A lock must have opened inside you, an opening made ready for him, because your brow lines smooth out and you go lax on the bed spread. You blink up at him as if trying to eat your nerves with your eyes by overindulging on the sight of him. Your face must be hot to the touch, as brave of a front as you’re putting on, you are not immune to embarrassment or fraying nerves.

Jacaerys sharply inhales and takes the tentative first step, settling a hand at the top of your chest and dragging it downward. His fingers catch on the buttons in your bodice and he undoes them with only a couple minor fumbles here and there.

“Ah.” The prince groans, peeling back the black panels in your uniform to uncover the skin beneath. “These breasts are wasted on servant rags, they’re so beautiful. You’re so very beautiful, my love.”

Your teats are round and perky things, so over encumbered with themselves that your flesh pushes out in between his fingers as he squeezes them softly. You softly moan and recline even further on the bed, as much as you are able with the chains still holding onto you. Jacaerys chuckles and lifts each one as if here debating on which decorative jeweled necklace weighed more, the rubies or the emeralds.

“Thank you, my prin- Jacaerys.” You sigh, never forgetting your well taught manners, and then gasp, “Wait, do not just grope them like that- Gods-“

Upon further investigation, the ruby, your right breast, is marginally heavier and bigger, but Jacaerys refuses to have favorites so resolves to love the emerald just as much. He rolls them in his palms for a bit before departing with a loving pat to your nipples.

His palms softly fall to bracket either side of your head, caging you in. “Now come, grant me a kiss, your nerves will fade with practice. What is there to be afraid of?”

His voice grows shakier than he’d like it too, a genuine hint of uncertainty shining through. In this he knows, at least, that it would do you a world of good to take your own leaps of faith. It would have been cruel to ask you such a thing when he had been sitting farther away, but now he is oh so close, the tips of your noses brush against each other is a shy sort of kiss.

Your eyes flick down to his lips and before he can say anything else, you’re leaning forward as much as you can and pressing against them. Jacaerys is pleased that his earlier assertion of your temperament was correct and turns his head, deepening the kiss and slotting his lips in the empty spaces left by your own as they part.

He laughs when the kiss is broken, airy and on the wings of a more formidable beast than love. The beings watching must already be impatient, for when he presses his chest further into yours, he notices a sudden lack of clothes. As if the Gods had grown tired of waiting for you to undress each other properly, not that Jacaerys minds all that much.

The prince snakes a hand in between your bare bodies, slipping down to cup your mound. He sweeps you up in another kiss so as to not afford you the opportunity to shy away when his digits sink into your slick.

“This cunt is overflowing, is this where it feels best? My thumb is right on your pearl just. like. this.” He teases and sketches tight circles on your bud, shifting his body weight to keep you down when you kick out your legs reflexively.

You keen into his open mouth, a high pitched bottle rocket about to go off and explode into bursts of bright color “Yes! Jace, just like that, don’t stop, oh my Gods- I’m so wet, how am i so wet?”

You ask him about your own body like you’re genuinely bewildered and Jacaerys is so charmed, so in love. He wouldn't peg you as the type to go a long while without slithering your hands up your skirt and delivering an unsatisfying orgasm, this much liquid must be drowning you. He takes his sweet time, flicking and playing your pearl in an obsessive fashion, taking your plush breasts into his mouth as his tongue lavishes them in saliva.

You’re making such melodic sounds, one of the songbirds must have escaped from the automated menagerie and fluttered their wings into his arms. Pinks and oranges and greens and purples and oranges spill across the void in his peripheral vision, but this bastardized marriage bed is the only thing Jacaerys cares about. It doesn’t matter that there is no sound save for the squelch of his fingers in your cunt and his rose petal pink lips popping off your tits repeatedly.

Jacaerys has seen many moons during the ship’s travels through the vastness of space, but the way your hips are arching off the bed in search of more of his touch would make any one of them bleed red in embarrassment.

Amused, he teases you now, slowing down his concentric circles into loose ringlets. “So this is not enough?”

“Jacaerys, please- You know it’s not.” You glare but still grind your hips up into his hand, not even bothering to address him by his title, he’ll let it slide in this instance.

He dips down to press a few last kisses to your breasts, nipping at your pebbled nipples and sliding a finger into your cunt. He crooks his fingers, going at a leisurely pace and waiting until you’re near tears to insert a second.

“Mmh, who knew i’d come by such a hungry cunny, almost carnivorous in its attempts to keep me inside its snatch.” Jacaerys grins and pumps his fingers, going faster as he slips a third and then a fourth one in, feeling how your walls cling onto their shape.

You’re like a leech, suckling at his flesh to the point of blood loss.

“ ‘m not…… don’t talk about it like that. Fuck, yes- Jace- take what’s yours already, i’m burning up.”

He kisses you again and abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, slapping your clit in one heavy strike. For all his efforts of taking things slow and keeping the atmosphere gentle and loving, you inspire such a deep teasing streak in him. He could never seriously hurt you, but quick smacks resulting in your eyes flashing with lightning aren’t off the table.

You whimper, wetting yourself under the heel of his palm. The intense colors around you swirl into a psychedelic kaleidoscope pattern, rhythmic beeping comes from the pillars and the atrium seems to hold its breath. You don’t notice when your mind begins to unravel, babbling about needing it being too much and you need to pee. Because there’s a drop of shame that your intuition injects in you, something more than being on the brink of a climax.

“You’re so sensitive, my love, did the slaps make it worse?.” He coos, serving you slap after slap after slap, nothing worse than what would make his hand and your mound sizzle. “Good, you can piss if you need to, there is nothing to be embarrassed about with me.”

You’re so cute, he could never understand how people could stand marrying for anything other than love. The worry that his heart will expand too quickly and splatter around the rungs of his ribcage, that you feel when you lay with someone you love, is a sensation he would slay his kin for. He is aware of its luxury, that he is lucky to experience it at all during his life on the spaceship he will live and die in. He sends a brisk thank you to his ancestors for taking yours with them when they departed and took flight from Earth, the beauty of your swollen tits and stomach will honor them.

And oh, how he wants to make you come on his tongue and around his fingers and every other way possible. In the depths of his soul, Jacaerys wants you to feel as if you were falling from a very high tower, a royal with no choice but to fall skull first into the great nothingness of the beyond. The fragments would adorn the cobblestone just like how your tears frame your lashes.

No, the first time you shatter and crumble to nothing will be around his cock. Stardust sprinkled over the void, scattered like ashes.

Perhaps the worst sin Jacaerys will commit tonight is that he is too impatient to continue the foreplay. He knows that no amount would prevent you from enduring any pain, but he also knows that he did not do enough. He, and the celestial Gods hidden in the stellar bushes, wants you to feel the burn of his cock stretching your walls. Commencing a wedding of sorts between your cervix and his throbbing tip.

“W-wait, ah!”

“Be pliant for me and take my seed, stop being so stubborn and let yourself have this, allow it to blossom and it can just be us for the next round, sweetling. I swear it.”

He will guide you through all the details later.

The neon waves crash against the windows, and the led scrawlings on the pillars glitch and scramble and unscramble themselves as you come together. The atrium dissolves into numbers after you’ve fallen asleep for the final time in the chamber, Jacaerys’s hand clutching your belly and your head pillowed on his chest. Giant wings cradle the pair in their center, ghastly creaking and groaning as they slice through the shifting rainbow patterns. Each moon along the journey is full and winking.

Jacaerys thinks he sees a comet fly over your heads when he’s halfway to consciousness, and he traces the valyrian letters for ‘I love you’ into the bloated skin of your stomach.

The chapel has mysteriously changed places on Dragonstone by the time of your actual wedding, the statue lies dormant.

[witchthewriter]

𝐷𝑎𝑒𝑛𝑦𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝐷𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑂𝑙𝑑 𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑦𝑟𝑖𝑎

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑻𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒆𝒏

INFP

Ravenclaw

Neutral Good

Pisces Sun, Cancer Moon, Aquarius Rising

Daenys Targaryen, better known as Daenys the Dreamer, was the daughter of Aenar Targaryen. He was a nobleman from the Valyrian Freehold and the Lord of Dragonstone.

When Daenys was still a maiden, she had a powerful prophetic dream; the doom of Valyria. Her dream showed fire, and plenty of it. Burning everything in its path.

In 114 BC, her father, Lord Aenar Targaryen, listened to his daughter and sold all their holdings in the Valyrian Freehold and moved his family to Dragonstone.

When they left Valyria, the family took five dragons; including Balerion. When the Doom came twelve years later, House Targaryen was the only family of dragonriders left.

Following tradition, Daenys was married to her brother, Gaemon, who became the Lord of Dragonstone. Their children were Aegon and Elaena Targaryen.

Aegon married his sister, Elaena, and together they had two sons: Maegon and Aerys Targaryen. Aegon and Elaena also had a younger sister who married a petty lord.

Aegon and Elaena inherited the lordship of Dragonstone from their father and mother, they jointly ruled Dragonstone and were succeeded by Maegon. When Maegon died, he was succeeded by his younger brother, Aerys Targaryen.

Aerys Targaryen had three sons, Aelyx, Baelon, and Daemion Targaryen. Aelyx inherited the lordship of Dragonstone from his father and was himself succeeded by Baelon. Then Baelon inherited the lordship of Dragonstone from Aelyx and was himself succeeded by Daemion. Daemion became Lord of Dragonstone after his two brothers. He was succeeded by his only son, Aerion Targaryen.

Aerion Targaryen was a member of House Targaryen during the Century of Blood, the only son of Lord Daemion Targaryen of Dragonstone. He was married to Lady Valaena Velaryon of Driftmark and together they had three children: Visenya, Aegon, and Rhaenys Targaryen. Aerion was also rumored to have fathered Orys Baratheon on an unknown woman.

Additional information via details in the show.

Daenys was Balerions' first ever rider. At the time he was only the size of a horse (was 2 or 3 years old. Born in Old Valyria, taken with House Targaryen to Dragonstone).

Daenys claimed Balerion the night before her dream of the Doom.

[amoratearte]

🐉 Valaena Velaryon 🌊

Targaryen Family Tree

“[…] the only son, and second child, of Aerion, Lord of Dragonstone, and Lady Valaena of House Velaryon, herself half Targaryen on her mother’s side”

Known children: Visenya, Aegon, Rhaenys

[novaursa]

Could u do a Visenya x brother reader

Of Duty and Heart

- Summary: Visenya chooses you over her duty to Aegon.

- Pairing: brother!reader/Visenya Targaryen

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @literaturedog

The sound of footsteps echoing through the Great Hall of Dragonstone feels like the beat of a drum in your chest. You stand beside your younger brother Aegon, his posture straight and composed, but you can sense the unease rolling off him in waves. Your father, Lord Aerion, sits upon the carved throne at the end of the hall, his face a mask of expectation and authority.

But it is your elder sister, Visenya, who draws all your attention. She stands before you, her back straight, her violet eyes fierce and unwavering. The light glints off her silver-gold hair, cascading over her shoulders like a pale molten fire. Her face, as always, is beautiful and commanding, but tonight, there’s something else there. A hardness, a defiance you have rarely seen in her gaze.

“I will not wed Aegon,” she says, her voice steady and clear, echoing through the hall like the peal of a bell. Her words are a blade, slicing through the tense silence. You feel Aegon stiffen beside you, and your father’s eyes narrow, his hand tightening on the arm of his throne.

“Visenya,” Lord Aerion’s voice is low, dangerous, “You speak of duty, not desire. This is what the family—what the realm—expects.”

She lifts her chin, defiance blazing in her eyes. “I have served duty my entire life. I have wielded Dark Sister in battle, I have stood as a shield for our family, and I have done all that has been asked of me.” She turns her gaze to Aegon, and then, to your surprise, to you. “But I will not marry where there is no love.”

You inhale sharply, her words hitting you like a blow. Visenya has always been the warrior, the embodiment of duty and strength. You have loved her for as long as you can remember, since you were children playing in the shadow of Dragonstone’s walls, since you watched her learn to wield a sword with a fierce grace that took your breath away. But you had buried that love, knowing that she was promised to Aegon, knowing that your place was to protect her, not to claim her.

“Love?” Lord Aerion’s voice is cold, his eyes glittering like chips of ice. “Love is not the concern of kings and queens. You will wed Aegon, and together you will forge a dynasty that will be the envy of the world.”

Visenya’s gaze does not waver. “A dynasty forged in cold blood is a fragile thing. I will marry no one but him,” she says, and then she turns fully to you, and it is as if the world narrows to the space between you, to the breathless, aching moment that stretches between her words and your understanding.

You can scarcely breathe as she steps closer, her eyes locked on yours. “I would rather die than wed without love, and the only man I have ever loved is you, Y/N.”

The hall seems to vanish around you, the walls and the torches and your father’s scowl fading into nothingness. All you can see is Visenya, the fierce determination in her eyes, the way her breath hitches ever so slightly as she waits for your response.

“Visenya,” you whisper, the name reverberating in the silence like a prayer. You reach for her hand, scarcely believing that this moment is real, that the thing you have longed for, dreamed of, could be within your grasp. “Are you certain? This is not something that can be undone.”

Her fingers curl around yours, strong and sure. “I have never been more certain of anything. I want to marry you, Y/N. Not because of duty, not because it is expected, but because I love you.” Her voice softens, the fierceness giving way to something raw and tender. “And I will not give myself to anyone else.”

You feel Aegon’s eyes on you, feel your father’s fury simmering like a storm about to break, but none of it matters. All that matters is the woman standing before you, her hand in yours, offering you everything you have ever wanted, everything you never dared to hope for.

“I love you, too,” you say, the words falling from your lips like a vow, like a promise. “I always have.”

Visenya smiles then, a fierce, radiant smile that banishes the shadows from the hall, that makes your heart swell with a joy so fierce it almost hurts. “Then we will face whatever comes as one.”

Your father rises from his throne, his face dark with anger, but you meet his gaze unflinchingly, your hand still wrapped around Visenya’s. “You would defy me for this?” he demands, his voice shaking with rage.

“I would defy the world for her,” you reply, your voice steady, your heart calm. “And I will stand beside her, no matter what comes.”

For a long, tense moment, the air crackles with unspoken words, with the clash of wills. But then, slowly, your father’s shoulders sag, and he seems to age before your eyes, his fury giving way to a weary resignation.

“Very well,” he says at last, his voice heavy with the weight of surrender. “If this is the path you have chosen, then so be it. But know this: the road you walk will be a difficult one, and you will have no one to blame but yourselves.”

“We know,” Visenya says quietly, her eyes still on you, her hand still clasped in yours. “But we will walk it together.”

And as you stand there, your sister’s hand in yours, her love shining in her eyes, you know that whatever the future holds, you will face it with her, with the woman you love, by your side.

[kingsanddragonsandgods]

⁂Early life:

Princess Visenya Targaryen of Runestone was born on the last day of the year 90AC, at her mother's ancestral home.

The newborn child was named after the Conqueror Queen, Visenya, by her father and anointed by holy oils seven days after her birth at the Sept-by-the-Sea in Runesport.

Queen Alysanne, who held the child during the ceremony is noted for having remarking that ‘the girl has all of Viserra’s beauty, but Alyssa’s temper’ to which the King is said to have answered ‘Gods be good’.

As Princess Visenya grew, her parents continued to battle, using the young girl as a pawn in their conflict, with both parents appealing to the King and Queen to take their side on occasion.

During her early years she grew especially close to her natural born brother, Orys Stone, the illegitimate son of Prince Daemon by Lady Rowena Royce, Lady Rhea’s older third cousin. The young boy was brought into Lady Rhea’s household in the year 90AC, following the passing of his mother.

From the age of five, her parents’ estrangement was permanent, with Prince Daemon returning to the Crownlands and Lady Rhea and their daughter remaining at the Vale. After royal intervention it was agreed that the Princess time was to be split between living in Runestone with her mother, and between the Red Keep and Dragonstone with her father, alternating during the seasons, summer and winter was spent on the Vale, while spring and autumn in the Crownlands, special celebrations were shared.

Her education appears to have been strict and somewhat old-fashioned, thus, in addition to her studies, Grand Maester Runciter notes in his journals, she was taught spinning and weaving and had an innate talent for weaving intricate tapestry. From the year 92 forward, Visenya, who had been betrothed to her newborn cousin, Prince Aerion, was expected to become Queen Consort, and her education reflected it. Her betrothed passed away in his cradle two years later, and Visenya was then betrothed to his newborn brother, Prince Aelor.

Her tutors at the time, Maester Adelin, Archmaester Vaegon and Master Petrarca of Volantis, regarded Princess Visenya as an extroverted, lively, highly intelligent, and strong-willed girl. Prince Daemon was reported to be proud of her horsemanship and marksmanship.

Because of her outstanding intellect, and his blunt favoritism, King Jaehaerys named Princess Visenya as his cupbearer in the Year 96AC, at the age of six.

The young princess often was allowed to discuss the classics, philosophy, and the affairs of state with ambassadors and envoys visiting the court of Jaehaerys. Moreover, she was personally acquainted with the painters, musicians, writers, and scholars who lived in and around the royal court.

Princess Visenya if often considered one of, if not, the best educated women of her generation.

The year 96AC marked another milestone for Princess Visenya: on the eight moon of the year, the young princess bonded and became the first rider of a she-dragon she named Huraxes. The same dragon that as a hatchling had been brought to Princess Daenerys Targayen. Huraxes had pearly scales and iridescent wing membranes, with pale and pinkish flames. The princess was allowed to bond with the she-dragons by royal decree after falling ill with a bolt of Spring Fever that nearly took her life.

Matches for Princess Visenya started being discussed by the Small Council, brought up by the Lord Hand. Thought Visenya was heiress to the largest fortress in the Vale and to the Ladyship of Runestone, it was argued that as she was a Princess of the Realm, the matter of her marriage was a prerogative of the King, which infuriated Prince Daemon, who at the time occupied the seat of Master of Law, the Grand Master agreed that such line of thought might anger the Vale, as the Princess was highly regarded by her people and her second cousin, the Lady Jeyne Arryn. Lord Corlys suggested his own son as a match for the princess, four years her junior, most likely to tie another dragonrider to his house. His Grace put down all talks of marriage for his niece, agreeing that such was the right of his brother and good sister to choose her match.

For the celebration of his niece's fifteenth nameday, the king ordered seven days of celebrations, with a tournament and grand feasts. The Queen's absence was noticed, excused as Her Grace was in the early stages of her final pregnancy, and Visenya was allowed to sit in the seat usually reserved for the consort; she was crowned Queen of Love and Beauty by the Dornish Ser Eldric Dayne, the Star in the Morning.

Since the Princess's return to court early in the spring of 104 AC, Visenya had caught the king’s eye, and it is reported that Viserys and his niece have become very close, spending hours each day in each other's company, promenading in the gardens, hunting in the Kingswood, and dancing together during feasts and balls.

The king is said to have spoiled his niece with lavish gifts, including presenting her with a manse in King’s Landing, a country estate crossing the Blackwater Rush and later a sea palace in the Reach.

⁂Marriage and Queenship:

After the death of Queen Aemma Arryn in the Year 105 AC, Princess Visenya, aged 15, became the 2nd wife and Queen Consort of her uncle, King Viserys I Targaryen. Their betrothal was announced a month following the queen’s passing, and a private ceremony was held three months later in Dragonstone.

It was a scandal at the time, as not only the King’s new marriage was announced a moon after the late queen’s passing in childbed, but it had also been rumored for some time that Viserys and Visenya had been lovers.

More salacious tales propagated by the fool Mushroom during the Dance of the Dragons tells of the princess sitting on her uncle's lap during feasts, kissing him shamelessly, and nibbling his fingers sensually as he fed her like a beloved pet; of the king fondling her breasts in public, and announcing to his courtiers that he and his niece would retire to make love. These have no contemporary support, with Septon Eustace calling such tales absurd and slanderous.

Over the matter of his marriage to his niece Viserys claimed that the marriage was in the public interest and ordered a grand celebration for the occasion of his new queen's coronation, to happen after the end of mourning period for Prince Baelon. Visenya was the first Queen Consort crowned in a separate ceremony from the reigning King. During the occasion the apparent advanced state of the queen's pregnancy caused a new wave of rumors that Visenya had been the King's mistress while the queen was still alive and that their child was conceived out of wedlock.

In their more than two decades of marriage, Visenya and Viserys had fourteen children, all survived into adulthood, something that the maesters attribute to the queen’s management of the nursery. Visenya’s role as a mother was glorified throughout the realm, their young new queen’s obvious fertility was seen, by the smallfolk and nobles alike, as both a bless from the Mother and a sign from the gods. With the birth of her twin girls, Princess Viserra and Princess Rhaelys, coins were issued, portraying her as the Mother, an allegory that would repeat itself many times for the remaining of her husband’s and son’s reign. If in her maidenhood, as a young princess, Visenya posed as a model for sculptures of the Maiden, in motherhood and queenship, she was now the Mother.

Although it was not the norm of the age, and in fact, apart from the late Queen Alysanne, no other queen receive such a honor, King Viserys granted Visenya a seat on his Small Council, leaning on her for advice on varied subjects due to his respect for her opinion and good judgment. She became a formidable figure with far-reaching influence during this time. According to some sources, her influence was such that Queen Visenya effectively ran the government alongside the Hand of the King.

In the year 115AC, around the time of her stepdaughter’s wedding to Ser Leanor Velaryon and in the years that followed, the Queen Consort started to work and put her own trusted people in ever higher positions to strengthen herself and her sons through them.

Visenya acted as her first husband’s regent after his health decline, sat in her eldest son’s war table following Viserys’s death.

⁂Personality:

Some historians have contended that to some extent she deserved her negative reputation propagated by her stepdaughter following the death of King Viserys I, despite the inaccuracies of the claims that she was sexually disreputable or regarding the legitimacy of her children, other criticisms of her were valid: she was ambitious, proud, obstinate, and masked her cunning behind a sweet-toned voice and flawless manners.

Princess Rhaenyra described her as a woman of reckless extravagance and wantonness, who seduced a grieving man, and whom the King nonetheless loved passionately and faithfully. It is widely known that those part of the Black Court of the Princess of Dragonstone took to call the queen ‘the King’s Great Whore’ and ‘Lady Concubine’, however always away from both the queen and the king’s ears as well as her supporters, further spreading the rumors of an extramarital affair while the late Queen Aemma still lived and questioning the validity of the legitimacy of their children. Despite rumors spread on her sons legitimacy supported by the queen's supposed lasciviousness, all of Visenya’s children resembled those of her lineage.

In her youth, Visenya was celebrated as ‘the most beautiful creature in the world’ and that there was ‘nothing lacking in her that the most beautiful girl should have’. Ser Alyn of Hull would reflect later in her lifetime that regarding her appearance ‘there were few women who could compete with the Queen in her prime’.

Visenya was fiercely independent, a trait she shared with her mother. Mellos described her as having ambitions to match her pedigree. However, Archmaester Gyldayn notes that Visenya was fully aware that a woman in Westeros could not hold power in her own right. Instead, Visenya orchestrated the rise of her sons.

Capable of acts of extreme ruthlessness, she, in contrast, was also able to demonstrate uttermost kindness and charity.

⁂Issue:

At four and thirty of age by the time of their weeding, Viserys was already considered in his middle age. The union however proved itself to be a happy one, and together they had 14 children, nine sons and five daughters.

Visenya had been taught the importance of receiving an education and came to play an extensive role in her children' education, resulting in the creation of a "superior breed of princes."

Queen Visenya was know to call her children her 'precious jewels', and took great pride in all of them, she was particularly close to the princesses Alyssa and Elaena, however it is said, that from all her children, her favorite was Prince Aegon.

edited on 11/04/2024

[lady-lemonycakes]

(left to right) Queen Visenya Targaryen, Queen Daenaera Targaryen, Queen Rhaenys Targaryen

The Sister-Wives of Aegon the Conqueror, the Three Heads of the Dragon

Queen Daenaera Targaryen was the half-sister and wife of King Aegon I Targaryen, the first Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Her elder half-sisters, Visenya and Rhaenys, were married to Aegon as well. In fact this led to whispers that he married Visenya as it was his duty, Rhaenys out of desire, yet it was Daenaera whom he loved most. She was a dragonrider who rode the dragon Gaelithox.

Daenaera was born on the island of Dragonstone to Aerion Targaryen, Lord of Dragonstone, and his wife, Lady Naerys Targaryen. Her parents were said to be lovers in their youth, separated by the actions of Aerion’s grandsire and Naerys’s uncle—Lord Aerys Targaryen—who wed her off to Lord Velaryon so her claim would be forgotten. She only birthed Lord Daemon Velaryon and mostly ruled Driftmark as her husband was far too aged to be concerned with the governance of his land. To seal the deal, he had his grandson marry Lady Valaena Velaryon, a cousin with Targaryen blood, so he would not seek out Lady Naerys. It is with Lady Valaena whom Aerion had the Conquerors with, and after her passing, Aerion was free to wed Naerys and in 17 BC Daenaera was born.  By the time she was born, her father had four children��Visenya, Aegon, Rhaenys, and Orys Baratheon. Daenaera possessed all the ever so sought-after Valyrian traits—her long, white-gold hair, which her mother styled to be bound up in rings day in and day out, and purple eyes reminiscent of amethysts. By the age of fourteen, Rhaena had grown into a beautiful young girl, though standing next to Rhaenys and Visenya, it was often stated that pretty would perhaps be a better word for the youngest Targaryen. She was a shy, dreamy child, more comfortable at her lord father’s side than other children, even her elder siblings. There was no denying she was Lord Aerion’s favorite, especially with her dragon dreams, a coveted ability for those of Valyrian descent, especially since such dreams saved House Targaryen from the Doom. This was perhaps the one thing of note for Lady Daenaera in her youth as she was oft overshadowed by her half-siblings—there was Daemon who was Lord of Driftmark and went on countless voyages, Visenya who trained alongside the boys and became as skilled at arms as any man, Aegon the enigmatic heir whose mere existence made Dany feel lesser than, playful Rhaenys who was loved by any she met, even Orys Baratheon who has been making a name for himself on the island.  According to the legends, both Daenaera and Aegon shared these so-called dragon dreams. While they were not recorded to have been particularly close in their youth, it is said in the tales of Aegon’s Conquest that it was Daenaera’s recurring dreams that planted the seeds in his head for such a feat. It was only after this that Aegon ordered the construction of the Painted Table, which displays an accurate geographical map of Westeros. It would be the pride of Argilac Durrandon, however, that many say pushed Aegon to act.  Aegon called his banners and took counsel with them and his sisters, Daenaera excluded as she was not one of the Ladies of Dragonstone to her mother’s chagrin, and only then did he send out ravens to all the rulers in the Seven Kingdoms. Perhaps seen as haughty at the time, though he gave a warning that he would be the one, true king of a united Westeros and that those who bent the knee would keep their lands and titles, while those who did not would be met with Fire and Blood. As bold as it may have been, Aegon and the other two conquerors, Visenya and Rhaenys, made true of their promise. All Seven Kingdoms were brought to heel except for Dorne.  While all five of her siblings played active roles in the Conquest, Daenaera remained on Dragonstone. She ruled the island and ensured their ancestral seat would be guarded. Until she didn’t.  Aegon dreamed of ice and fire, one of the few things he confided in her about. Though she could never quite say the same. Her dreams were never quite as clear as his, always more fragmented than she’d like, leaving her to piece the puzzle together. It was one night on Dragonstone when she had a dream so clear, it was like something calling for her. Urging her to go and seek out this dream for once in her life rather than leave it to her kin to fulfill. And so, she saddles up Gaelithox, and unlike her ancestors who looked West, she was being pulled to the North—the land of ice and little glory. 

Read more on Daenaera Targaryen in House of Memories.

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

While the pre-Aegon I targs receive almost no focus in any published material, how do you think it may have changed in precedent at the Great Councils if there was a ruling Lady of Dragonstone in the ancestry? When I first read F&B, I almost thought there would be a retcon with the Valyrians to be Salic / Agnatic and that would factor into the precedent of the great council of 101. There’s also a pro-daemon argument for agnatic seniority up to Daemon that I would’ve loved to have GRRM explore

Oh, but there was a ruling lady of Dragonstone:

Gaemon Targaryen, brother and husband to Daenys the Dreamer, followed Aenar the Exile as Lord of Dragonstone, and became known as Gaemon the Glorious. Gaemon's son Aegon and his daughter Elaena ruled together after his death. After them the lordship passed to their son Maegon, his brother Aerys, and Aerys's sons, Aelyx, Baelon, and Daemion. The last of the three brothers was Daemion, whose son Aerion then succeeded to Dragonstone.

And we know that Elaena was a Lady in her own right and not just her husband's, because Aerys and Daemion and Aerion had wives, but they aren't spoken of as "ruling together". Therefore Aegon and Elaena's situation must have been with her on the same level as him. But alas, that didn't seem to help much with later succession arguments.

I suppose there might be an agnatic seniority argument, but I can also see that they specifically factored in female heirs and "a daughter before an uncle" of male-preference primogeniture:

As the glad tidings of Rhaena’s birth spread across the land, the realm rejoiced…save, perhaps, for Queen Visenya. Prince Aenys was the unquestioned heir to the Iron Throne, all agreed, but now an issue arose as to whether Prince Maegor remained second in the line of succession, or should be considered to have fallen to third behind the newborn princess. [...] The boy, named Aegon after his grandsire, was born to Lady Alyssa and fathered by Prince Aenys. [...] While many still debated whether Prince Maegor or his niece, Rhaena, should have precedence in the order of succession, it seemed beyond question that Aegon would follow his father, Aenys, just as Aenys would follow Aegon.

BTW, if you're interested, you can see an essay by an actual lawyer stating that the precedent of the Great Council of 101 was no legal precedent at all.

But anyway, you're not the only one who wishes F&B had gone into far greater detail about various legal and social decisions of the Targaryens. @goodqueenaly has gone into it at length, in particular about the politics of matchmaking, and the lack of it in F&B...

[starogeorgina]

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬

Paring: Harwin Strong × reader

Warnings: None

3.05

Sniffling, you pull a fur blanket further around your shoulders to keep warm as you slump further into the massive four-poster bed that dominates the room, it's dark wood carved into dragons, which matched the elaborate designs that declared the room. The walls are adorned with intricate tapestries depicting scenes from Targaryen history, with hints of different magical creatures woven into the design.

“No.”

“Vaella…”

“I forbid it,” you protest, your hand barely wrapping around Harwin’s wrist when you hold onto him. “You cannot leave me, our children, and go to Harrenhal.”

He lowers his head. “You would forbid me from escorting my father home?”

“If I must,” you whisper. “I would have you locked away in a tower if I thought it would keep you safe.”

“You have seen my father; he’s not a well-mannered man, and if the rumors about my brother are true, then he’s not safe in the keep. He needs to go home and be tended to by the maesters there.”

It might have been a nightmare all those years ago instead of a dragon dream, but you weren’t willing to risk your husband's life by finding out. “I saw you die in a vision! I saw Harrenhal burn to the ground with you inside it. I am begging you, Harwin, to not make the horror of losing you a reality for me. I wouldn’t be able to bear it, nor would our children.”

His eyes are glassy with unshed tears. “And what of my father?”

“The maester on Dragonstone can attend to him. You’ve seen firsthand how skilled Maester Gerardys is. I trust him not only to take care of us but also of our children, my sister, and the king. I promise he will do the best he can for your father.” Seeing his hands tremble, you hold onto them. “Please, just bring your father to Dragonstone; if he wishes to be with his wife, then invite your stepmother and sisters as well.”

“It’s not my decision to make.” He says it more firmly. “My father says he wants to go home, and I won’t stand in his way.”

Your eyes sting as fresh tears fall from them. Harwin would never leave his family unless he deemed it absolutely necessary, but it didn’t ease the pain of him going. You never thought you'd have to say goodbye to the one person who felt like home to you.

“Mama?”

Being so lost in your thoughts, you never heard Vaegon entering the room. When he climbs into the bed beside you, you brush his thick hair, which was growing rather long, out of his eyes. “Why aren’t you sleeping, my sweet?”

He says nothing.

Sensing his uncertainty, you put your arm around him, kissing the top of his head. Out of all your children, Vaegon was the least likely to come up with a problem when he usually admits to dealing with things himself. “Whatever is wrong, you can tell me.”

“Promise you won’t get mad.”

“I promise,” you smile sadly at him, “but I need to know what is keeping my son up at night.”

Nervously, he says, “It’s this place.”

“Kings landing?”

“The people here aren’t as nice. I see the way the lords and ladies look at me and my brother. The queen and her children make fun of us for not looking like Targaryen or Lannister.” He bends his legs and rests his head against his knees, looking up at you. “Is Harwin Strong my real father?”

“You are so loved; always remember that.” You kiss his forehead again as tears swell in your eyes again. “Thomas Lannister being your father keeps you and Aerion safe. Do you understand?”

He nods.

It was clear that although Vaegon had inherited your temper and stubbornness, he had his father's kind-hearted nature and understanding. “Can you tell me how you and my father got together?”

It was almost frightening how smart and observant your son was for still being so young. “I will one day, my sweet, I promise, but not tonight. We need to rest before returning home tomorrow.”

—

Soon as it was an appropriate time, you visited your father to say goodbye with the promise of returning to visit him soon on dragon back along with Rhaenyra. When you leave his chambers, you intend to go straight to the gods wood, where your sister is waiting with the children and Ser Laenor to join them; however, you are stopped in the hallway before you make it outside.

“I hope you don’t mind my saying this, but you are a positively glowing princess. Being with a child agrees with you.”

Goosebumps spread across your body at the compliment. Unbidden tears had been coming to your eyes since Harwin left, but you forced yourself to be polite and smile at the clubfoot.

A creepy grin spreads across Lary's face as he leans against his cane, with an intense look on his face. “I assume my niece hasn’t accompanied you to visit her grandsire this morning.”

“You would be correct, Lord Larys; the princess was breaking fast when I left.”

“That’s a pity. I overheard Elinda Massey, your sister’s lady-in-waiting, saying farewell to some of the handmaids. I can only assume you are leaving for Dragonstone today, and the princess is accompanying you.”

You didn’t want to give him any further information as needed, plus being alone with him was bringing on a wave of nausea. “Yes, I asked Princess Rhaenyra to come and stay, at least until my baby is born.”

“That seems like a wise decision. I have heard pregnancy can be a woman’s loneliest time.”

Continuing to fake a smile, you say, “I better be going, my Lord; I don’t want to keep the children waiting. I shall see you upon my return.”

As you walk by him, Larys smugly asks, “I heard my father and brother left to return to my family home last night; is that true?”

“Yes, they left during the night since your father was feeling unwell.”

“Oh, I suspect they didn’t want to bother me during the night by saying goodbye; not to worry. Since they should be arriving by nightfall tonight, I shall expect to receive a raven from them tomorrow.”

—

The walk to the entrance of the castle was mainly in silence, aside from Luke expressing how excited he was that the island would be his new home. You had grown fond of the salty air of Dragonstone, which smells of smoke and brimstone, and usually enjoyed the long walk across the bridge, but it always made you nervous to see children on it.

Aerion holds your hand with a glum expression. Ada walks in front of you with Vaegon and Jace on either side of her, holding their hands. Luke walks with his father while Rhaenyra is carrying her babe.

Sensing your distance, your sister slows her pace. “Did you find our brother before we left?”

“No, I’m ashamed to admit I got rather distracted, but I intend to send him a raven as soon as the children are settled. I want Aegon to know he is always welcome.”

“Perhaps he comes out, sweet sister, and other brothers will be more inclined to as well.”

Looking over his shoulder, Vaegon frowns at you. He couldn’t comprehend why you wanted to have a relationship with your siblings after witnessing how badly Alicent, Otto, and Criston treated one side of your family, but you had faith that the bad blood wouldn’t extend to the younger generation of House Targaryen.

—

You walk beneath the heavy red doors entering the great hall, which are set in the mouth, and are shocked to see fresh food and drink already being placed on the high table on the raised platform.

“Father!”

Ada lets go of her brother and cousin's grip and runs towards Harwin, whom you had failed to notice standing on the opposite side of the room. He lifts Ada up with ease and kisses her cheek. “Have you been good for your mother?”

“My love,” you whisper, your heart racing as you cross the room to him.

Ada nods. “Yes, and I held Joffrey on the boat.”

“Did you now?” He smiles wildly before placing her back on the ground. “Now, go with your brothers to wash up before we eat.”

When your daughter skips off happily, Harwin wraps his arms around you, holding you as close as your bump would allow. His eyes look heavier than normal, and his skin looks like porcelain. He licks at his dry lips. “We got as far as a tavern in Rosby when I finally convinced my father to come to Dragonstone.”

“Where is Ser Lyonel?”

“He was resting, but I suspect he will be down shortly. We had planned for the meal to be ready by the time you arrived.”

“No,” he says quietly. “But the thought of you being upset is worse than him being mad. I wanted to go back to the keep first, but my father was vomiting a lot and didn’t want to extend the journey further than needed.”

You squeeze his arm and say, “I’m just glad we are all home and safe.”

—

Soon as the sun rose the following day, you spoke with Maester Gerardys privately. Both Harwin and Rhaenyra were stressed from events that had taken place the last few days, and you didn’t want to worry them that you had been feeling rather poorly since the start of this pregnancy. The constant nausea, vomiting, and indigestion were one thing, but the intense back pain was becoming concerning.

However, after speaking with the maester, you walk back to your bed chamber filled with relief. Maester Gerardys had no concerns regarding your baby and even suggested you might be carrying twins again.

“Good morning, princess.”

“Good morning, Ser Qarl.” You smile as the knight bows his head before continuing along the hallways.

Ser Qarl Correy had fought during the battle of the Stepstones, and your cousin Laenor is your current lover. Rhaenyra had insisted that Laenor take him to Dragonstone as well, so that her husband wouldn’t be so lonely.

You enter your chambers, being careful not to make too much noise in case Harwin was still asleep, but you notice his back as you near the sitting area. You remove your overcoat and excitedly approach him. “My love, I’ve... oh, forgive me, Lord Lyonel. I didn’t realize you would be joining us this morning.”

Seeing the mortification on your face, your lady brings you a thicker robe, which covers you more appropriately since you only had a nightgown. You were surprised to see his father so early in the morning, especially since Harwin would usually bring your daughter and sons to break fast as soon as he woke.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. “Are the children awake?”

“No princess; Ser Harwin has asked me to let princes and princesses sleep in,” she whispers.

You offer her a small smile before returning to your husband and father-in-law. Now that you weren’t so startled, you could see how distressed they both looked. Lord Lyonel was sitting with his head in his hands, and Harwin seemed utterly lost as he stared ahead with bloodshot eyes.

“Harwin, what’s going on?”

Harwin clears his throat, but his voice is still shaky as he speaks. “A raven arrived from Harrenhal this morning; there was a fire last night. My sisters and stepmother are dead.”

[simspiriorum]

Starting my ASOIAF save file ✩⭑✶*⋆

The Start of House Targaryen*⭑✩

Valaena Velaryon - Lady Of Dragonstone ✩⭑✶*⋆ Valaena so far is my favourite sim i've made. her face is just *perfection*

CC: Eyes, Skin, Hair, Crown, Dress, Necklaces, Earrings (Vintage Glamour)

Aerion Targaryen - Lord Of Dragonstone ✩⭑✶*⋆ AHH I love him. I know for a fact that Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys are gonna look AMAZING!

CC: Eyes, Skin, Hair (Get together), Crown, Outfit, Necklace (Get to work), Earrings (Basegame)

Im realllyyyy excited to keep playing and making all the houses and building all of the lots! Stole this idea from @thesims4asoiaf <333

[valyriians]

I’m not sure if this is how you put requests in, so I’m sorry if this is wrong lol. But i was wondering would u mind writing a Visenya Targaryen x fem reader? Cause I see in most fics it’s a lot of stuff on Aegon and Rhaenys and I feel like our girl Visenya needs some love. I don’t really have a story in mind I’d just love to see her protective and possessive over us while also maintaining a friendship with Aegon and Rhaenys, if makes sense. Like we all get along, but we’re her girl and she’s gonna make it known lol. I hope it makes sense and I hope ur doing well author 🫶

Beauty and the Dragon.

Visenya Targaryen x fem!reader, arryn!reader.

summary: reader is basically sharra arryn but spicier.

wc: 1.7k

warnings: reader is a mom, non canon aegon i, smut, mention of reader being a prize.

You were known as the Flower of the Mountain, Y/n Arryn. You ruled in your son's name as Queen Regent in the Vale and the Mountains

When you received the news of the dragons from the south you had a worried look on your face, the Eyrie was defensible from the ground but in the sky, it was vulnerable. 

You were scared, who would not be? A dragon could bring death and destruction to everything that the sky looms over. You ordered every one of your bannermen and advisors to raise defences and be prepared to defend the Vale. 

You were with your advisors when the whole castle was shaken by a monstrous roar that could be heard from miles away. 

‘’Where is my son?’’ you asked.

‘’WHERE IS HE?!’’ you shouted while running out of the room watching the people get up on their feet after the incident.

When you arrived at the throne room you saw your young son in the lap of a golden-silver-haired woman who was adorned in silver chain mail with a beautiful valyrian steel sword by her side.

She looked breathtaking, ethereal and elegant but also fierce and confident. You looked up at her with a glistening gleam in your eye.

The woman shifted her gaze from the young king to you and the two of you held eye contact which felt like a lifetime, her eyes were those of a beautiful purple which complimented her stern features.

‘’Who are you, release my son at once!’’ you exclaimed.

‘’Forgive me for the entrance I made but surely you must know that I needed to make an impression.’’ The woman said while looking playing with the young boy king.

‘’My name is Visenya Targaryen, eldest child of Lord Aerion Targaryen and Lady Valaena Velaryon of Dragonstone, sister to Ageon the Dragon.’’

‘’Let go of my sons’’ you said.

‘’I have no means to harm your son, come walk with me.’’ Visenya gestured for them to walk into the courtyard.

You walked with them outside where Visenya was holding the young king and babbling some stuff to him.

‘’If you don’t mean to harm us, why are you here?’’ you asked while looking closely at your son.

‘’Well, I will have to inflict some harm if you do not surrender the Vale and Mountains to me and my brother.’’ Visenya said while looking at you. 

‘’As I see it, you are only a force of, one man and with a simple nod of my head I could have my archers let a hundred arrows fly.’’ you said.

‘’Could you now?’’ Visenya said and then the ground rumbled that was followed by a roar and from the sky descended a formidable green dragon that landed by Visenyas side.

The dragon was beautiful.

Some of the archers fled while others laid down their bows and shook in terror.

‘’Mama look at the dagon’’ the young boy king said to his mother, clearly not afraid of the large beast that was beside him.

‘’DRA-gon, little one.’’ Visenya said as she put him down on the ground.

You saw your son's face lit up and crouched down to hug your son. You looked at your son, then the dragon and lastly at Visenya who stroked the dragon's snout. 

‘’I willingly surrender my son's crown, the Vale and the Mountains and all its treasures to you, on the condition that you will let my son live.’’

Visenya looked at you with a sympathetic look.

‘’Of course, your son will live, as will you.’’ Visenya said.

‘’I thank you’’ you bowed to her.

‘’I will be staying here, my brother and sister will be coming soon and we will make our journey North, perhaps you might indulge me with stories of the North, or the Vale and its so-called… treasures.’’ she winked at you, clearly into you but not making it to obvious.

‘’We shall have a feast prepared in your honour’’ you said while she mounted Vhagar with your son because she promised him a flight on Vhagar.

—

Two huge dragons arrived, one black as night and the other silver as the moon, they landed outside the Bloody Gate and arrived at the Eyrie where you were waiting with Visenya.

You saw how majestic the man and his sister, the younger one, were a great beauty. They truly were destined for something great and were going to achieve it.

‘’Brother’’ Visenya said.

‘’Dear sister.’’ he replied.

‘’Lady Arryn.’’ he shifted his gaze toward you and took your hand and kissed it. ‘’The poets did not lie, you are indeed very beautiful.’’

‘’Welcome to the Vale, my Lord, you flatter me’’ you replied, with a certain scared voice.

Rhaenys greeted you and she was very excited about the Eyrie. 

—

The feast began and it was a big one, music was played and people danced to greet their new lord. It was also ideal for the bannermen to meet their new lord.

Rhaenys was chatting with some lords and ladies about her dragon and tales of Dragonstone. 

‘’So, Lady Arryn, how long have you ruled here?’’ Aegon asks.

‘’Well for about seven years, my son ascended the throne when my husband died.’’ you reply.

‘’You have not re-married? I’m sure a score of men would love to have you beside them.’’ He chuckles but Visenya shut him down quickly.

‘’She has no need for a man, from what I have seen Lady Y/n has done an admirable job ruling the Vale.’’ You give Visenya a smile.

—

When the night came closing in, you retired to your chambers after visiting your son and you ran into Visenya, she had just returned from a flight.

Her hair when it was all worn out from the flight made her look amazing, the sweat from her ride, the way she pulled off her gloves and adjusted her clothes. You would be lying if you said that it didn’t make you feel something.

‘’I was wondering if you might educate me on the King in the North, Stark is he not?’’ she says to you while panting.

‘’It’s getting late, Lady Visenya.’’ you said but she caressed your face and pulled you in for a kiss.

Her lips tasted like lavender and cherries, she grabbed you by the neck and pulled you in closer.

You were feeling confused but were also so drawn to her, you wanted her, and you needed her badly so you also grabbed her.

You led her to your chambers where you undressed each other while kissing in between. 

She pushed you onto the bed and began leaving wet kisses on your stomach while you were naked and vulnerable beneath her. Her hands were constantly on your body.

She moved down to your core and put your legs over her shoulders, she started licking your folds while moving up her pace as you panted and moaned with the sound of pleasure.

Her hot breath on your naked body sent chills down your spine and you felt like you could see stars. 

The two of you went like this for hours and then you hear a knock on the door, terrified but curious who it might be, it could be your son or just a servant informing you about something.

You started collecting yourselves until Visenya caught your wrist.

‘’Lay here darling, I’ll handle this.’’ she said with dominance in her voice.

‘’No wait-’’ you protested.

‘’Quiet’’

Visenya walked to the door, half naked with only her long hair covering her chest with not a single care in the world. She opened the door and greeted her brother.

‘’Well well, what are you doing here?’’ she asked.

‘’I would ask you the same thing.’’ Aegon replies.

‘’Enjoying the spoils of war, I do enjoy my prize quite well and I do not plan on sharing them.’’ She said, clearly having the upper hand.

‘’I only came to bid the Lady goodnight, I shall see you on the morrow, sister.’’ He replied.

‘’I might be late, for I have much to do this night.’’ She replied.

—

The morning arrived and you woke up next to Visenya staring at you, admiring the numerous love spots she painted on your body. She caressed your hair and admired your naked figure in the messy sheets.

‘’I don’t want you to leave.’’ you say.

‘’I will be back before you know it darling.’’ she says while getting dressed.

You help her with her chainmail and fix up her hair nicely. Always giving her a few kisses in between.

—

When the three siblings were about to depart for the harsh North you were there to bid them farewell and good fortune.

You first spoke with Aegon as he walked up to you while putting on his gloves.

‘’We thank you for your hospitality Lady Arryn, it was an honour meeting one so beautiful as yourself.’’ he tells you.

‘’The honour is mine my King.’’ you bow to him and for the first time address him as King.

Rhaenys then hugged you goodbye and smiled at you and your son.

‘’My Queen.’’ you bowed to her.

‘’My Queen.’’ again to Visenya who looked at you with lustful eyes. 

‘’From this day, the Arryns will hold the position as Wardens of the East and Defenders of the Vale. Starting with the first Warden of the East who is Lady Y/n Arryn.’’ Visenya proclaimed to the audience who came to bid them farewell. She gained loud applause from the crowd.

Aegon walked over to Visenya and grabbed her arm.

‘’What do you think you’re doing?!’’ he asked his sister.

‘’Relax dear brother.’’ she said while shuffling from her brother's grip.

‘’After all, you said that it is an honour to meet one so beautiful, and I would hate to see her talents of ruling go to waste.’’ She said while holding your cheek.

‘’So beautiful indeed.’’ She whispered and then kissed you with passion in front of Aegon and Rhaenys, Aegon looked at her with jealousy while Rhaenys smiled.

‘’I shall be back.’’ she said to you.

‘’I will await for you, my Queen.’’ you said while holding her hand.

—

The dragon Vhagar flew numerous times to the Eyrie after King Aegon Targaryen the first of his name was crowned and it is said that Lady Arryn and Queen Visenya spent more nights than King Aegon did with Rhaenys.

[ophelias-lamentation]

Princess Aelora Targaryen The Beloved. Born to King Viserys and Queen Alicent Hightower during 117 AC, during her pregnancy the Queen rekindled her friendship with her stepdaughter Rhaenyra, who was pregnant with Prince Joffrey Velaryon, as they both suffered from difficulties. The princess was born a fortnight after Joffrey. A pink egg with lavender starbursts was placed in the cradle of Aelora a week after her birth, a gift from Rhaenyra as a gesture of goodwill to the Queen, the egg hatched shortly after her first name day. Aelora was the first of Alicent’s children to hatch an egg in the cradle and the dragon went nameless until the girls fourth nameday when she declared that like herself her dragon would be called Sweetling. She would later write to her betrothed Jacaerys Velaryon, Prince of Dragonstone, that she regretted the name as her three elder brothers all relentlessly teased her for the silly name. Aelora was loved by every person in the Red Keep due to her sweet and kind nature. She was a favorite playmate of all the royal children, except her eldest brother Aegon who was a full decade older and thought that she was irritating, though when he voices this opinion out loud he was met with scalding reprimands the loudest voices being those of Rhaenrya and her eldest son Jacaerys. In a letter to Lord Cregan Stark, Aelora wrote that as a young girl her favorite companions were her sister Helaena and her future husband Jacaerys. Two months after her seventh nameday the princess mounted and rode her dragon Sweetling, the dragon keepers recorded that the she-dragon was the most docile dragon that they had encountered and believed that its soft nature was an effect of only ever being bonded to the sweet Princess. After her first flight the delicate pink beast was often spotted in the skies above Kings Landing along with the dragon Vermax and his rider Jacaerys. When not in lessons Aelora spent most of her time flying or in the gardens with Jacaerys catching bugs for Helaena, the young Prince would present her with flower after flower and she often coaxed him into bunching the flowers together and gifting them to Queen Alicent. On her ten and second nameday, shortly after the death of her father and the coronation of her sister Queen Rhaenyra it was announced that she was betrothed to the Crown Prince Jacaerys, thus finally uniting the two factions of House Targaryen.

The pair would not wed until after the princesses ten and sixth nameday when Jacaerys was nine and ten. The couple did not take residence of Dragonstone until shortly after Aeloras eight and tenth nameday weeks before the birth of their first child Valerion. As soon as she was able to ride her dragon she took flight with her child strapped on as her husband flew by her side, her children would all experience a “first flight” and the tradition has continued on as the current King and Queen, Jaehaerys II and Daenarys both experienced a first flight and plan to do so with their first child. The couple only lived on the island during the fall as Jacaerys was expected to sit it on Small council meetings. In 139 AC the Queen Rhaenyra passed away at the age of 42 just a year after the birth of her first grandchild due to an Ambush from the Free Cities during a royal progress. King Jacaerys the Just and Queen Aelora the Beloved were crowned a week after her death and just two weeks later the Queen gave birth to her second child, a baby girl named Daella. The Queen would go on to give birth to eleven more children over the next decade. The identical twins Virion and Raemar were born in 141 AC, next in 142 AC was a baby girl named Naerys, in 144 AC the Queen once again bore twins this time a boy named Vahaelor and a girl named Saerena, in 146 she gave birth to a boy named Aerion, in 148 AC she gave birth to a boy named Aelyx, and in 149 she gave birth to her last twins child at the age of 32 two identical baby girls she named after her half-sister Nyra and after her fathers first wife Aemma. All of her children became dragon riders, all hatched eggs from Vermax and Sweetling in the cradle. Aelora learned from her own mistake and didn’t let her children name their dragons until their fifth nameday. Their dragons were Symeon a green male dragon with gold scales, Jonquil a lavender she-dragon with white horns and wings, Hura a black male dragon with silver scales scattered throughout, Vezos a gold male dragon, Qelos a silver and gold she-dragon, Polaire a light gray male dragon with light blue horns, Vaessia a pale pink she dragon, Darkfyre a red and black male dragon, Eledrar a gray-blue male dragon, Moonfyre a silvery dragon with white spatters of scales, and Mirrax a blue she-dragon often compared to Dreamfyre. Her eldest two children would eventually succeed Taetym and Jacaerys in 197 AC. Virion served as Master of Laws on his brother small council while Raemar served as Master of Coin, both boys were known to be the most studious of the eleven children. Naerys married Virion and their descendants reside in a castle in the North and are now known as House Jelmor. Raemar married the youngest princess of Dorne and his descendants are now known as House Vezor and live on the Border of Dorne and the Stormlands. Vehaelor married a daughter of House Baratheon and his descendants live in a castle on the border of the Stormlands and The Reach and they are now called House Jelmazmo. Saerena married the second son of House Hightower and her descendants now lives in a castle adjacent to her twin brothers in the Reach and are now called House Havon. Aerion married the granddaughter of Tybald Lannister and now his descendants reside in the Westerlands and are known as House Endia. Aelyx married into House Greyjoy and his descendants now control one of the Iron Islands and are known as House Aegenka. Nyra married a son of House Royce and her descendants live on a mountain and are known as House Eglie. Aemma their youngest daughter, married the second son of House Tully her descendants now reside in the Riverlands and are named House Qelbar. Each line descended from King Jacaerys and Queen Aelora possess the white hair and purple eyes of Old Valyria and every member is a dragon rider, the line of the Great King and Queen have created a new Valyria and they spread their culture without hindrance due to the crippling of the Faith when King Jacaerys exposed their plot to divide House Targaryen and end the House of the Dragon.

Hi guys!!!! So this is kind of a rewrite of house of the dragon but where Alicent has a daughter after Daeron and her and Rhaenyra are pregnant at the same time and bond over their difficulties, this bonding brings them close together so the Dance never happens. Basically Jacaerys and his wife create a new Valyria and establish 10 new houses full of white haired, purple eyed, dragon riders all throughout the Seven Kingdoms. Pls let me know if y’all want more, this is my first fan fix and I kind of want to expand but just know that. I might write about the other children’s roles in this new Valyria. Also btw Jaehaerys II is our Jon Snow. Love all y’all the most

XOXO,

mae

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧

"𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑂𝑙𝑑, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑇𝑟𝑢𝑒, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐵𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒"

One of the oldest Houses, the Velaryons survived the Doom and established themselves in the New World.

The first Velaryon mentioned was Lady Valaena Velaryon. The mother of Aegon the Conquorer and his sister-wives; Visenya and Rhaenys. She had been married to Lord Aerion Targaryen, and moved with her family to inhabit Dragonstone when they fled the Doom.

House Velaryon was of Valyrian descent, and inherited such features. They include silver-gold or white hair as well as purple, violet, blue, grey or green eyes.

For a time, not only did House Velaryon have power over the seas, but also in the sky. They were once dragonriders. The marriage between Rhaenys and Corlys produced two children that bonded with dragons; Laena rode Vhagar, and Laenor with Seasmoke.

House Velaryon's ancestoral seat was Driftmark, the largest island of Blackwater Bay in the crownlands. Their castles include Driftmark and High Tide. The head of House Velaryon is titled Lord of the Tides and Master of Driftmark.

It was traditional for the sons of House Velaryon to experience a seafarer's life when young. This created a love for the sea for Velaryon members.

The Velaryons were the oldest and closest allies of the Targaryens for centuries. For a long time they kept the positions of master of ships and lord admiral, as the family provided most of the royal fleet.They sat on the Small Council.

After Robert's Rebellion, the new king, Robert I Baratheon, gave the castle Dragonstone to his brother Stannis. The Velaryons have been sworn to House Baratheon of Dragonstone ever since.

A traditional name of the Velaryons is Jacaerys.

[amoratearte]

🐉 Aerion Targaryen ❤️‍🔥

Targaryen Family Tree

“The Aegon who would be known to history as Aegon the Conqueror […] was the only (trueborn) son, and second child, of Aerion, Lord of Dragonstone”

Known children: Visenya, Aegon, Rhaenys, Orys

[aelyxmagnus]

I was thinking about Egg’s reforms and they almost certainly had something to do with giving peasants the right to take legal action against their lords, especially the laws of pit and gallows, both the hedge knight and the sworn sword have scenes where peasants have arbitrary punishments tandem against them by someone higher up the social ladder than them, with Tansel and Aerion in book 1 being the most obvious example.

There’s also the sworn sword literally opening with a lower class person (the septon) being executed for talking shit about those with ‘god given rights’ (the king and bloodraven), there’s also the webber man who loses an ear to Ser Bennis who thinks he can do it with impunity as he’s a knight, Ser Bennis also abuses Egg and pinches him repeatedly and thinks Egg can’t do shit about it because he’s just a squire who’s below him in the hierarchy. There’s no way none of his reforms did nothing about it, and this also explains why the lords hated it so much, as a lord having rights of gallows is a right guarded jealously by lords, as we see in the sworn sword with Ser Eustace iirc. Taking this right from a lord would be extremely offensive to the prideful ones. This problem of arbitrary punishment is even stronger in westeros than in the medieval period I think because the church isn’t as strong. Egg probably continued to see this problem in his adulthood as he saw the ‘measures’ taken by Aerion in BR3, probably war crimes against smallfolk, that made him even more certain of the need for reform. It’s possible that he persuaded Maekar to do something which led to the Peake uprising and Maekar’s death, and his association with that might have been the reason why Bloodraven thought a great council would be necessary as otherwise the lords might revolt, or maybe our boy Childpastemaker just wanted to kill some more Blackfyres. This might also be why Egg chose Summerhall, a relatively new Targaryen construction, only about a 50 years old or something, post-Dance, instead of Dragonstone. He knew the risks and didn’t want more smallfolk to die cuz they were at the wrong place at the wrong time, like the poor stableboy Gregor killed in his combat with Oberyn.