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ashblooddragons · 2 days ago

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My Heart, My Ruin (Prolouge/?)

22 ac Kingslanding

Maegors pov

I could hear my good-sister's screams well into the night. I finally gave up trying to fid sleep once the hour of the owl came, I climbed out of my bed and went to where I knew my brother would be waiting until his wife had given birth to their child. She’s been in labor since yesterday at the hour of the wolf, surely she should have had the babe by now.

When I walked in I saw mother and father standing next to each other whispering as my brother sat in a chair sobbing.

“What’s wrong, she’s been in labor since yesterday, shouldn’t the babe be here?” I ask as I rub the drowsiness from my eyes.

I watch mother and father look at each other silently having a conversation with only their eyes. Probably deciding if I should know or not. But it is not them who answers but my sniffling brother.

“The babe won’t come, the Maesters think Alyssa’s contractions are too weak.” Aenys sobs out.

“These are just guesses my son, they are giving her a concoction now to strengthen them.” Father says rubbing Aenys back as he sobs into his hands.

I look at Mother and see a scowl on her face, she never liked how Father treats Aenys compared to me says he “treats him like some infant looking for their Mother’s teat.” and in this moment of watching his brother sob so openly, he wonders if his mother is right.

“What would happen if the concoction doesn’t work?” I ask looking from my brother to my Mother.

“Then we will have to choose who lives, the babe or the Mother.” Mother responds in a cold calculating tone. This only makes Aenys sob more.

“But it will not come to that, we have the greatest Maesters in all of the seven Kingdoms we have nothing to fear.” Father says trying to reassure Aenys again as he glares at Mother.

Mother scoffs and takes a sip of her amber gold wine, she doesn’t like it as much as Dornish red but ever since Rhaenys death she won’t touch anything to do with the Dornish. She often says. “They took my sister with that scorpion arrow, I suppose I am glad they had horrible aim and Meraxes did not perish either. If this, me not drinking their wine is the only way I can show how I hate them, then I will.”

Mother and Father say Meraxes had seen the arrow coming, she had tried to dive so it wouldn’t his either her or Aunt Rhaenys, but she hadn’t noticed quick enough, and the arrow had split her in two. Meraxes has been inconsolable since her rider’s death, but Father has said he swears he sees her flying above Kingslanding over the last moon, as if looking, searching for something. This is odd as she much prefers the sulfur rocks and salty air of Dragonstone compared to Kingslandings stench and filth.

I can not blame the dragon though, I do as well, I’d much rather be on our ancestral home instead of this filth-ridden city.

We all flinched, well besides Mother, when we hear a bone-chilling scream from Alyssa, and then it all went quiet. I hear Aenys sob more thinking his wife as perished until we hear the cries that only a healthy babe could make.

Aenys bolts out of his chair and rushes to his wife, Mother, and Father not far behind them. I sigh in relief knowing I can finally get some much-needed sleep.

The next morning I go to visit my new niece, when I enter I see my good-sister asleep on the birthing bed with new sheets dorning it so the stench of blood isn’t as pungent in the air. I turn and look at my brother who is smiling down at a bundle in his arms.

Are babes truly that small, Alyssa was huge and the bundle doesn’t even reach the length of my brother's forearm.

I’m cut out of my musing when Aenys looks at me smiling waving me over trying to keep quiet as to not wake his wife or the babe.

“Come meet your niece, Rhaella.” He says as he rests the babe into my arms making sure I hold her right.

When I look down I see her looking up at me with the most gorgeous lavender eyes I’ve ever seen, they take my take my breath away. I shake my head trying to gain my bearings again.

“She’s so small, is she supposed to be this small?” I ask as I move some of the blanket to see a swarm of silver-white curls atop her little head.

“I had asked the Maesters the same thing, they said it’s normal for the first to be small.” He responds touching the tufts of hair upon her head.

I nod not taking my eyes off hers, I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. I sit on a plush armchair staring at her, staring at the very being who seems to keep my heart pumping now, the very thing I will always adore and cherish, the one thing, one person I could never hurt. I knew in this moment she would be the very focal point of my heart, but she would also be my very ruin.

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the Header for this fic!!! I swear I'd be lost without you Girly!

@sugutoad @ilikefelines @baybaybear1 @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @classicsimpforaaronwarner

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sugutoad · 24 days ago

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MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE

Chapter 1 — The New Season

so @coffeebooksrain18 and I were talking about a Bridgerton Au once with our ocs, and this idea came to be! This is a little surprise for my Riley, who is so amazing and I could have not done any thing without her (please please go check out her fanfic, ‘The Red Queen’ if you want good Daemon food on her other account, @ashblooddragons) Also Aelys is her oc!

Sypnosis: 𝐀𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 is set to begin her debut into the society. Born between the loving reunion of Daemon Targaryen and Rhaella Targaryen, she is offered the world on a silver platter. But she does not want it. 𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 is the second son of Dukes Viserys Targaryen. He has no land to inherit and no riches. But, he has one thing that is his - Aelys Targaryen. When Aelys is told that Rhaenyra is heir to the Targaryen fortune, she knows she must find a way to stop it. Sure, she doesn't believe that Aegon should be named Duke, but he is better than her aunt. That is until she looks at Aemond and a new plan emerges. 𝐌𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢 is a legitimized bastard, but still a child born of an unholy reunion between the Pope and the Lady Alaria Dayne . Ever since childhood, she has known herself as lesser than everyone else. When expected to join society, she expects herself to be a spinster for there were not many who would want someone like her in the comforts of their home. 𝐀𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 does not believe the inheritance of House Targaryen belongs to him. When his father newly changed the inheritance to fall in his hand upon his death bed, rather than his older sister, his world flips. This is what his Mother always wanted, not him. Aegon only knows of one thing that he wants, but she seems to be a distant dream who Aegon can only graze with the tips of his fingers. Aegon Targaryen only wants one thing for himself, Myrielle Vallici.

The sun peeked through the rustle of leaves, but Aelys felt not the sun on her pale skin (she partially blamed it on the parasol her mother insisted on taking with her to avoid upsetting the ever-judging Lady Alaria Vallici.), but a gentle breeze that whispered through the air, softly caressing her cheeks like a lover’s touch. Aelys tightened her grip around the slender arm of Myrielle Vallici, though her red-headed friend hardly seemed to notice the pressure. A joyful giggle bubbled from behind her, drawing Aelys’ gaze back to her mother

Mother’s arms were hooked with that of Alaria Vallici, Myrielle’s Mother, her face adorned with a smile so bright it could rival the sun itself as Father would say. She leaned in closer to Lady Alaria, the pale blonde ringlets of her hair brushing lightly against the noblewoman’s cheek as she chuckled about something. Lady Alaria stood as rigid and upright, her head tilted upwards as any noble woman should (A giggle blossomed in her heart, but Aelys bit her lips to prevent any sort of problems. Alaria Vallici wasn’t even a proper noble; she was merely a mistress, yet she carried herself as if she were superior to them all. Aelys kept the laughter in, she did not want to upset her friend for laughing at her mother). Oh, how different their mothers were!

Lady Alaria mustered a small smile, although Aelys assumed it was a smile to seem polite rather than true amusement at whatever her Mother so eagerly told her. It truly ticked Aelys off, her nose unknowingly scrunching and her eyebrows furrowed above pale lilac eyes.

“You must not do that, Aelys,” Myrielle frowned at her. “The season is starting shortly, and I cannot have you appear in front of everybody with a wrinkled face.”

Aelys rolled her eyes at her fussing, her eyes wandering off. She simply couldn’t muster the same concern that Myrielle did. It would be Aelys who would be the newest gem of this season, not Myrielle. Her friend had already began her season last year when Edwina Sharma had been declared Diamond of the Season. Aelys simply assumed Myrielle feared of being a spinster as her heart was not so different from other noble women.

But Aelys was a Targaryen. And although she was a daughter of a second son, the world and all its riches were offered to her on a silver platter since she had been born, simply waiting for her to claim them as hers. Aelys truly believed that it should have been her father, Daemon Targaryen, who should rightfully bear the title of Duke Targaryen — not ViserysTargaryen and certainly not his drunkard son and heir, Aegon Targaryen.

“Aelys, dear!” Her sudden thoughts of her lesser family and their possible demise (though she had to admit, some of them, particularly Aemond Targaryen, held a special place in her heart) were interrupted by her Mother’s voice. Aelys swiveled around to face her, spotting her Mother setting down a sheet for the four of them to rest upon.

“We are coming, my Lady.” Myrielle piped up, pulling Aelys with her. Aelys silently swore to herself as the blades of grass kissed the hem of her dress. She had worn a pale blue dress and for all she knew, it would now resemble the blue Himalayan poppies decorating her room.

Ruffling her dress in annoyance, Aelys sat beside Myrielle. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Myrielle nervously fidgeting with her fingers, stealing glances at the pastries laid out before them while glancing uneasily at her mother. Aelys let out a frustrated sigh, before bending over and grabbing the strawberry tart placed in front of Lady Alaria.

With the tart now in hand, Aelys’ eyes betrayed her as they flicked upward. Lady Alaria was clearly striving to suppress a glare. Violet eyes glanced down once at her before a sigh escaped her and she looked away. Aelys smiled at herself, plopping back and trying to not gorge down pastry in mere seconds. Aelys, after all, did have some manners, she was a high born lady and a pretty one at that. After all, she was a highborn lady, and it would be a waste to mar her pretty face with sticky strawberry sauce

Once noticing Aelys’ action, Myrielle grabbed the blueberries laid in front of her. Myrielle did not even like blueberries! Snapping the sticky goodness in her own hand, she handed one half to Myrielle. “Thank you, Aelys,” Myrielle replied with her usual politeness, but she shook her head, refusing the tart. “I am.. I am not hungry.”

Aelys’ smile faltered. Who would ever refuse a strawberry tart? “Myrielle needs to be in shape for this season. We can not have her left without a suitor again.” said Lady Alaria and Aelys got her answer. Mother bit her own lip, not entirely knowing what to say. Aelys snapped her head toward her, her eyes wide as she let out a breathy chuckle. “Perhaps the girls would be better off on a stroll?” Mother intervened, placing a gloved hand on Lady Alaria’s shoulder

“Without a chaperone?” Lady Alaria countered.

“Do not fret, Mother. We shall stay near.” Myrielle spoke up, her throat bulging as she swallowed hard. Never had Aelys wanted to hit an older women, but this truly was tempting her. Lady Alaria let out huff, her head motioning for the girls to leave. What sort of Mother would ever think such things of her daughter? Aelys silently prayed—Myrielle’s habits were beginning to wear off on her—and thanked God for her own gentle mother, who would sit with Aelys while she cried over a tear in her dress and later buy her a prettier one. Myrielle, of all people, deserved a mother with a soul as gentle as her own.

The two silently walked and Aelys had a sudden urge to straighten her back as Myrielle had. Although the two girls had attended the same etiquette classes — that is where they had met afterall — Aelys did pay much attention nor care for the lessons. She already knew this all, why should she learn it again? Perhaps this is why her and Myrielle had not quite been friends back then as Myrielle preferred the company of Daphne Bridgerton over her own.

“It would not be so bad,” Myrielle shattered the silence and Aelys could only look at her in confusion. Upon noticing her face, Myrielle let out a laugh. “I mean, it would not be so bad if I were to be a spinster. My brother would support me. And…”

Myrielle turned to her, grasping onto Aelys hands and pulling them near her. “And perhaps, we both can be spinsters!” She began giggling and Aelys could not, but joined in. The two girls giggled and giggled over such a ridiculous idea. But deep down, Aelys wondered if perhaps it wasn’t so absurd after all. A life free from the expectations of a rich lord—who could very well be older than her own father—might be the ideal life.

Myrielle’s laughter died down, replaced by a wistful smile. “Though my lady mother might poison me if I don’t marry this year. She is still quite upset that I did not marry Anthony Bridgerton.”

Aelys rolled her eyes at the mention of his name. “He is a douche with the most horrible sideburns. You deserve someone better.” Myrielle smiled at her..

“And you deserve someone as great as you.”

Aelys did not want someone as great as her. She did not want anyone.

She shook her head. “Not a single man in this ton fits my fancy. They are all unsuitable.”

Myrielle raised an eyebrow, her red lipstick smudging slightly at the corners of her lips. “No one? Not even Aemond Targaryen?”

Aelys huffed out a laugh, her hands quickly covering her face. She wanted to rip her eyeballs off, but her nails were done so well today she could not bear to ruin them in crimson. “He is my uncle! My Mother’s own brother!” Aelys hissed. Aemond was handsome. He was brave and intelligent. But he was her uncle from Grandfather Viserys’ second wife, the Lady Alicent Hightower. And Aelys? She was the daughter of Viserys’ second daughter with his first wife and cousin, Lady Aemma Arynn.

It wasn’t that Aelys cared what others thought; she would damn them all if she could. But she could never disgrace her mother or father like that. So much scandal had already followed when her mother married her own uncle, and Aelys would not allow her gentle mother’s soul to endure such disgrace again.

It seemed Myrielle quickly took note of her thoughts. She always did. “Of course, Aelys,” she smiled. “He is your uncle, and nothing more.”

Aelys jabbed a finger in Myrielle’s arm. “You should not be speaking such! Not when Aegon Targaryen exists.” Aelys smiled in triumph as Myrielle cheeks turned into a hue almost identical to the red ruby hanging near her chest by a golden thread — given by Aegon. “There is absolutely nothing concerning him! Of that I can assure, my dear.”

Myrielle looked away, doing a poor job of hiding her embarrassment. “Of course, Myrielle,” Aelys mocked. “He is your… What exactly is he even?” Myrielle glanced back at her, her lips quivered upwards. She leaned in close, her lips only a fingertip away from Aelys’ ear.

“Perhaps, we can marry both brothers and be sisters!”

Aelys stepped back, a grin plastered on her face. The absurdity of that remark almost made her laugh.

“Aelys! Myrielle!” Her mother’s voice echoed from across the bridge, a faint sound that snapped Aelys back to reality. She hadn’t realized how far they had strayed from their mothers. Glancing at Myrielle, Aelys noticed the light in her friend’s eyes dim, a sigh escaping her lips. A part of Aelys felt guilty for some strange reason, not that she even was!

Aelys locked her fingers with Myrielle. “That would be nice.” Myrielle smiled back at her and the two girls began to head back.

It truly would be nice.

#oc: Aelys targaryen #oc: Myrielle vallici #sazh writes #house of the dragon #crossover #bridgerton #bridgerton au #fluff #oc: alaria dayne #That bitch tho #My Alicent Hightower [ 🥀 ]#fyeahgotocs #fyeahhotdocs #Don’t judge #I wrote this in an hour

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