#canon Laenor

[j-k-writes]

The Bronze Targaryen - 5

Summary - Two and a half moons after (Y/N)'s arrival in Kingslanding he must grapple with his new title as a dragonlord, wedding festivites, his grandsire's sudden illness, and his relationship with his father. The prince tries to balance all of this as the royal wedding looms over him.

Warnings - minor injuries, general HOTD warnings, drinking, canon character death, consummation scene (its minor and a fade to black)

I have decided to mold the lore to my own desires because there is almost next to nothing on House Royce during this time period. Also was going to break this into two parts because its so long but wanted all the wedding festvites to take place during one chapter.

(Y/N) winced as the maester prodded at his nose, the maester made humming noises as he examined the prince’s injuries. He applied a few plaster’s to (Y/N)’s nose, before wrapping it in soaked wool. 

“His nose shall heal fine, my prince.” 

Daemon nodded, “Thank you, you may go.” 

The maester bowed to the two princes, gathering his supplies and leaving (Y/N) alone with his father. Daemon watched as the man left the room, and waited until the doors were shut before turning on his son. He crossed his arms leaning back against a chair, and (Y/N) braced himself for a lecture. 

“How are you feeling?” 

(Y/N) blinked, “What?” 

Daemon pushed himself off the chair, making his way over toward (Y/N). He slowly reache

d his hand out, gently tracing the scratches and bruises on (Y/N)’s face, and (Y/N) was too shocked at his father’s actions to react. “Are you in pain?” 

“I’m fine,” (Y/N) said, looking up at his father. “I’ve had worse.” 

Daemon frowned, and (Y/N) wondered how much his mother had told him of his childhood mishaps. “What were you doing so far off Rosby Road?” 

(Y/N) flushed, “I- uh, snuck out.” 

“You snuck out?” His father’s face lit up, and he took a step back laughing and shaking his head. “How did your uncle react?” 

“Well he doubled my guard for one.” (Y/N) said, remembering his Uncle’s fury when (Y/N) showed up the next morning, face covered in blood and dirt. He had some choice words for the young heir, and (Y/N) was confident Daemon had heard his brother’s opinion on the matter as soon as he stepped foot into the keep. “But he was more interested in the dragon than my misbehavior.” 

“Ah,” Daemon smirked. “Yes, it must have been quite a shock.” 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes at his father, “I know you did something.” 

“What did I do, (Y/N)?” Daemon asked, raising an eyebrow at his son. “I did not drag Vermithor to you, or you to him for that matter. Vermithor made his choice.” 

“And it’s just a coincidence that as soon as you leave for Dragonstone, Vermithor leaves and seeks me out randomly.” 

“Perhaps it was fate.” Daemon shrugged. 

“You don’t expect me to believe that.” 

Daemon approached (Y/N), placed his hands on his shoulders. “It does not matter what you believe, all that matters are the facts. And the facts are that you have claimed Vermithor, you should be proud.” 

“I did not wish to claim a dragon, I never have.” (Y/N) said, and his father’s face hardened. 

“You are my son.” Daemon said, and (Y/N) hissed as his grip on his shoulder tightened. “You are a dragon, you cannot escape that.” 

His father’s face softened at (Y/N)’s expression. He released the boy, and seemed to hesitate before smoothing his hair back out of his face, “You should rest, you have had quite the number of shocks these past few days.” 

(Y/N) watched as father turned on his heel, and exited the chambers gently shutting the doors behind him.

“Lykirī.” (Y/N) smiled, as Vermithor pushed his snout into his chest. He pet the dragon with a gloved hand, laughing as the dragon continued to push him. “You must relax if you wish to fly.” 

(Y/N) had spent almost a week avoiding Vermithor after the dragon chased him down in the woods. Hoping that if he ignored him long enough the dragon would take the hint and leave, but eventually the Dragonkeepers sought him out, telling him that Vermithor had been untamable since he’d arrived in the Dragonpit. So (Y/N) resigned himself to the life of a dragonrider. He’d spent every day since then with the dragon, slowly but surely adjusting to his presence, and Vermithor had calmed drastically with (Y/N)’s visits. 

(Y/N) had taken to flying easily, much to his father’s delight and, as much as he hid it, his own. Although he had felt sick at the idea of claiming a dragon at first, he had come to find pride in the quick developments in his relationship with Vermithor. 

Rhaenyra too found delight in her betrothed’s new life. 

Anytime (Y/N) was free Rhaenyra was dragging him to the dragonpit, insisting Vermithor and Syrax go flying together. Viserys, at first happy to have another dragon in the family, soon grew inpatient with the two teens. Irritated at their constant absence from court, but (Y/N) paid him little mind. (Y/N) had no real place in his court, and he had not yet raised Rhaenyra, his heir, from the role of cupbearer. 

(Y/N) saddled Vermithor, leaning down to whisper to the dragon, “Sōvēs” 

The wind was cool against his face, blowing the strands of hair that had escaped his bun around in his face. (Y/N) had been wishing for clean and open air since he’d arrived in Kingslanding, this just isn’t how he expected to find it. Vermithor rumbled under him, and he laughed, leaning down so that he could rub the dragon’s neck. 

“I know,” (Y/N) spoke, almost shouting to be heard against the wind. “I am sorry I was late.” 

He’d been stuck in court all day, listening to his father and uncle bicker over details of the upcoming royal wedding. His uncle, ever the peacekeeper, had wanted Rhaenyra and (Y/N) to be married in the faith of the seven, as he was to Aemma and later Alicent, his father had other ideas however. 

“I do not worship the New Gods, uncle.” (Y/N) pointed out. 

“It is the tradition of the royal family.” The Grand Maester spoke up, as the other lords of the chamber had gone silent as soon as the tensions started to rise, seemingly fearful of angering any member of the royal family. Not that (Y/N) could blame them, he’d heard stories of his father’s infamous fits of anger. 

“(Y/N) follows the Old Gods like his mother,” His father looked pained to speak the words, but (Y/N) gave him an appreciative nod all the same. “And I have not known Rhaenyra to spend her days in the sept. We are Targaryens, they should marry in the tradition of Old Valyria.” 

“The faith-” 

“Fuck the faith.” Daemon spat. “I will not ask my son to forsake his gods so that some fat septon is comfortable, and we cannot bring a weirwood here so this is the only equitable compromise I see.” 

His uncle and the members of his council had grumbled at the idea, but eventually they conceded knowing this was an argument they could not win without insulting someone. His uncle dismissed them all, brows pinched in frustration. (Y/N) had caught his father’s arm on the way out, stopping him from walking away. 

“Thank you.” He did not meet his father’s eyes. “I know faith is not important to you, but it is to me so- just- thank you.” 

His father gently cupped his cheek, bringing (Y/N)’s eyes up to meet his. His father smiled at him, “You do not have to thank me. It is no secret that I hold no love for your mother’s house, but you do, and you are my blood. I will always defend you.” 

His father’s words still hung over his head by the time (Y/N) and Vermithor had returned to the Dragonpit. 

Rhaenyra was waiting for him as he dismounted, accompanied by a slew of Kingsguard and a royal carriage. The Kingsguard watched Vermithor warily as he grumbled, huffing as though he could sense (Y/N)’s apprehension at the sight laid out before him. 

 “Lykirī.” (Y/N) whispered, urging the bronze beast to return to the Dragonpit. Vermithor huffed one last time at the men, causing (Y/N) to chuckle, before returning. (Y/N) walked over to Rhaenyra, untying his hair and letting it tumble down to his shoulders. “That is quite the party, Nyra.” 

She sighed, “Our presence is required at the keep. We must be readied to greet the lords arriving at the court.” 

A Kingsguard opened the door of the carriage, and (Y/N) offered his hand for Rhaenyra to take. She took his hand, using it as leverage to step into the carriage and (Y/N) followed suit, taking the seat across from her. 

“What troubles you?” 

Rhaenyra blinked at (Y/N), “I am not troubled.” 

“Rhaenyra,” (Y/N) said, smiling slightly, “I can tell something is troubling you. Is it tonight?” 

“No,” She shook her head, leaning forward and placing her hand on (Y/N)’s knee. “No, it’s not tonight, it is this morning. My father is still blind to the schemes of some of those present in his court, they seek to undermine our family in favor of the Hightower children.” 

“Your father will not claim Aegon over you. You are his heir, you will be Queen and no scheming lord can change that.” 

Rhaenyra smiled, squeezing his knee slightly before releasing him and sitting back. (Y/N) turned to look out of the carriage, leaning back into the cushions and closing his eyes. He heard Rhaenyra chuckle softly, before the exhaustion of the day overtook him and he slipped away to sleep.

“You seem nervous.” (Y/N) turned, coming face to face with his cousin. He gave his best attempt at a smile, he fiddled with the collar of his shirt, and Gerold stepped forward. He adjusted the leather jerkin, allowing (Y/N) to breathe easier. “It is odd to see you in such formal attire.” 

(Y/N) laughed, “At least they don’t have dragons on them.” 

“No? I have heard a rumor that you’ve become quite the dragonlord in your absence.” 

(Y/N) reddened, ducking his head slightly, “It was an accident.” 

His cousin laughed, patting him on the shoulder, “There is no need to be nervous, cousin.” 

His cousin smiled at him one last time before joining his other cousin in the precession line. (Y/N) frowned at the sight of Gunthor, he’d been informed when his family and their court had arrived that his grandsire had fallen ill not long after (Y/N) departed, and in his heirs absence his cousin Gunthor, second in line, had taken his place as regent. His grandsire had been too ill to make the journey to Kingslanding, sending (Y/N) his well wishes and Gunthor in his place. 

A sudden hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts. He turned his head to catch his father smiling, he squeezed his shoulder. “The tailors did well, you look like a prince.” 

“I am a prince.” (Y/N) said, and his father’s smile widened. 

“Yes, you are. Remember that, as there are those that would hope you forget.” His father nodded in the direction of Gunthor, and (Y/N)’s expression soured. 

“I do not trust him, I cannot say why but-” (Y/N) frowned, staring at his cousin’s interactions with the Valemen around him. “He did not write to me to tell me of my grandsire’s illness. I am the heir, I should be regent, not him, and yet in my absence he swooped in.” 

His father nodded, “Good. You must recognize the snakes before they strike.” 

His father stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the Valemen. “I am aware that we do not have the best relationship-” 

(Y/N) snorted, and Daemon laughed rolling his eyes. “Yes I know, but you are my son, my blood. And I would like to be not just your sire, but your father as well. I was not there in your youth, let me be there now.” 

(Y/N) frowned, hesitating. He swallowed before finally speaking, “May we speak of this after the feast?” 

“Of course,” His father lightly touched his cheek, “Come we should join the others.” 

He and his father took their places at the front of the party, Gunthor to (Y/N)’s left and Daemon to his right. (Y/N) took a deep breath as the doors opened, keeping his gaze on the two banners bearing the sigils of House Targaryen and House Royce hung in the back of the Great Hall as his family entered. 

“Ser Gunthor of House Royce. Acting Lord of Runestone, Keeper of the Gates of the Moon. And Prince Daemon Targaryen. And his son and heir to Runestone Prince (Y/N) Targaryen the future King Consort.” 

The guests of the hall stood, clapping as they walked down to the high table. The amount of eyes on him made (Y/N) uneasy, but he kept his head high, posture exuding the confidence expected of one of his station. (Y/N) made eye contact with Rhaenyra at the end of the hall who offered him a comforting smile, he nodded to her. 

They paused at the beginning of the steps, bowing to the King, before Rhaenyra stepped around the table making her way toward the crowd. (Y/N) stepped forward, meeting her halfway, he took her hand as his father had instructed him when going over the etiquette required of him at the feast. 

“You must act every bit the king you will one day be, no matter how unused to these events you may be.” His father had told him. (Y/N) scoffed at the advice, he was raised to be the Lord of Runestone, he knew how to act at a feast. 

As (Y/N) pressed a chaste kiss to Rhaenyra’s hand, and claps echoed around the hall, he cursed himself for not taking his father’s advice seriously. He had never known a feast quite like this, hosting the most important lords of the whole of Westeros. Lords he’d never met before like the Lannisters, Hightowers, and Velaryons. He took his place by Rhaenyra’s side at the table, his father and cousin taking the seats by his left. 

He let out a breath as he sat down, scanning the crowd as his uncle started to speak. Rhaenyra grabbed his hand under the table, squeezing it in reassurance, it was only then that he allowed himself to relax, if only slightly. 

"Be welcome,” His uncle smiled out at the crowd, “As we join together in celebration. Tonight is only its beginning. We honor one of Westeros' oldest houses, and a fierce ally to the crown, House Royce. Just as House Targaryen reaches back to the blood of Old Valyria, House Royce reaches back to the blood of the first men. With House Targaryen and H-"

Viserys paused, and everyone averted their gaze to where his lingered. (Y/N) tensed once more as Queen Alicent Hightower made her entrance into the hall. The color of her dress a clear statement to anyone who knew any of the histories. Reluctantly (Y/N) made his way to his feet with the rest of the guests, he shot an amused glance to his side where his father still sat, eyes narrowed at the young queen. 

Alicent addressed Rhaenyra, “Congratulations, step-daughter. What a blessing this is for you.” 

Rhaenyra gave no indication of thanks, and Alicent kissed Viserys on the cheek before taking her seat beside him. 

He’d not yet had any real interactions with the young queen, only knowing things told to him by Rhaenyra and Daemon. He had taken them with a grain of salt, wanting to make his own judgment of the girl, but with the blatant display she’d just shown to the lord’s of Westeros, (Y/N) decided that maybe Rhaenyra and Daemon had been right in their worries. Perhaps the Hightowers did have their own intentions with the crown. 

“Please be seated.” 

(Y/N) traced the rim of his empty goblet as his uncle stood silently, only picking his eyes up from the table when he started to speak. 

"With House Targaryen and House Royce united, once again, I hope to herald in a second Age of Dawn and Dragons in Westeros.” Viserys spoke, and the hall erupted into applause.

“And after tonight’s small affair,” Laughter sounded through the halls, and (Y/N) had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Seven days of tournament and feasting! And at the end of it all, a royal wedding. Between my daughter, my heir, your future queen. And Prince (Y/N) Targaryen, heir to Runestone.” 

As Viserys sat, and everyone else followed suit, Rhaenyra and (Y/N) rose from theirs. They approached the middle of the aisle, and began their dance. (Y/N) had never been much of a dancer, and suffered through the lessons given to both he and Rhaenyra. 

“I feel like a fool.” (Y/N) whispered as Rhaenyra and he side stepped each other. 

“You are doing wonderfully.” Rhaenyra whispered back, taking her place back to back with him. “Ignore everyone, pretend it is just you and me.” 

When they finished, bowing to one another the halls once again erupted in applause. (Y/N) took Rhaenyra’s hands in his, kissing them softly as she gave him a knowing smile. As the rest of the courtiers took their places on the dance floor, (Y/N) tried to escape back to the high table, longing for a cup of wine. He was stopped before he could reach the table much to his dismay. 

“My Prince.” The lady, who (Y/N) did not recognize, blushed, bowing to him. “May I have this dance?” 

(Y/N) gaped at her, before remembering who and where he was. “Yes, yes of course Lady-” 

“Reyne.” 

“Lady Reyne. (Y/N) smiled, mourning his cup of wine. He gestured toward the lords and lady’s dancing, “Lead the way.” 

He had to dance with five young ladies before he finally found his escape. He flopped, very unprince-like into his seat, immediately grabbing the cup of wine laid out in front of him. His father laughed, waving over a servant to refill the cup once (Y/N) had finished. 

“Not a fan of dancing?” Daemon smirked, “Or is it the ladies asking you to dance you are not fond of?” 

“Both.” (Y/N) spoke over the rim of his cup, “They only wish to dance with me because I am to marry Rhaenyra, if I were just the heir to Runestone they’d pay me little mind.” 

“I don’t know about that,” Daemon said, “You are a comely young man.” 

(Y/N) smirked, “Ladies don’t wish to dance with comely young men.” 

“Neither do lords.” His father raised his eyebrows, humor sparkling in his eyes. 

(Y/N) shrugged, smiling at his father’s tone, “You have been talking to Rhaenyra.” 

Daemon leaned close, patting his son on the leg, “I am just glad you two have made this match work for the both of you.” 

“We are not married yet, father.” (Y/N) reminded, “Things may yet just fall apart.” 

Before his father could speak, another lady made her way to the table. She bowed to both (Y/N) and Daemon. “Prince (Y/N), may I have this dance?” 

Daemon snickered, taking (Y/N)’s cup out of his hand. “Well go on, dance.” 

His father had disappeared from the table when (Y/N) had finished, and his cousins were wrapped up in conversation with a lord (Y/N) did not recognize. He made his way to the sidelines, stealing a full cup of wine, and pressing his back against the wall to avoid being spotted. 

He spied his father in the middle of the dancing, twirling Laena Velayron around, and (Y/N) frowned. His father’s wife, (Y/N)’s own mother, had died only three moons ago, and as far as (Y/N) knew Laena Velayron was engaged to some Brasvosi. 

“You would never know this feast was in your honor the way you frown.” 

(Y/N) turned to face the owner of the voice, smiling as Ser Harwin took a place next to him. “Ser Harwin.” 

“Are you not enjoying the feast, my prince?” Harwin smiled, leaning closer to the prince. 

“I am enjoying the wine, some of the company less so.” (Y/N) said, and Harwin laughed. 

“I understand the sentiment.” 

(Y/N) brought the cup up to his lips, smiling around its rim. Harwin grabbed an empty cup, flagging down a servant who filled both of their cups. (Y/N) watched as his father continued to dance with Laena, and Rhaenyra moved through the crowd, followed closely by Ser Laenor. 

Harwin raised his cup up, and (Y/N) followed suit, “To your marriage.” 

“My marriage.” (Y/N) and Harwin laughed as their cups met. 

(Y/N) spent the rest of the feast by Harwin’s side. Harwin had stopped drinking by his fourth cup, watching in amusement as the prince got drunker and drunker with each cup of wine. As the feast died down, and the lords and ladies took their leave, Harwin had found (Y/N) a seat, and was watching him ramble fondly. 

“I do not care for this court, Harwin.” (Y/N) sighed, leaning his head back. “It was simpler on Runestone, but here, here there are too many lords I do not know. I do not trust them.” 

Harwin laughed, patting the prince’s leg, “Perhaps a hall filled with those lords is not the place to have this conversation, my prince.” 

“(Y/N).” (Y/N) said, straightening. He looked Harwin in the eye, placing his hand on top of the knights. “Please call me (Y/N).” 

Harwin’s eyes softened, “Of course, (Y/N).” 

(Y/N) smiled at the knight, keeping his hand where it was before two twin coughs behind him startled him. (Y/N) jumped, spilling his cup of wine onto himself. Harwin laughed as (Y/N) turned to look at the people behind him. Daemon and Rhaenyra stood above him, both with twin amused smiles on their faces. They had never looked more related, (Y/N) mused. 

“Having fun?” Rhaenyra asked. 

“I was informed that this feast was for me, and that I should try to have some fun.” 

Daemon laughed at his son's words, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him up out of the seat. “I think it’s time you take your leave.” 

Harwin stood, grabbing (Y/N) to help Daemon keep the prince upright. Rhaenyra sighed, a smile still gracing her face. 

“I am glad you enjoyed yourself, (Y/N).” Rhaenyra said. “But perhaps next time you can entertain yourself with less wine.” 

(Y/N) stepped forward, stumbling slightly and both Harwin and Daemon’s eyes widened as he moved. Freeing himself from the men’s grasps, (Y/N) approached Rhaenyra pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

“I am sorry that I left you on your lonesome.” (Y/N) said, letting his hand rest on her arm. Rhaenyra smiled, at his words or his drunkenness (Y/N) could not tell. 

She pressed her palm to his cheek, “You are fine. I enjoyed myself plenty.” 

(Y/N) nodded. “Good, because this is for both of us. So we should both enjoy ourselves.” 

“(Y/N),” Rhaenyra laughed, shaking her head. “Let us get you to your chambers.” 

Daemon and Harwin grabbed one of his arms, ignoring (Y/N)’s protests that he could walk by himself. Rhaenyra followed the three men, laughing at (Y/N)’s attempts to break free from the two men, and his drunken rambles to all three of the people accompanying him. When they finally reached the room, with some incident much to Harwin and Daemon’s dismay and Rhaenyra’s delight, Daemon turned to Harwin. 

“I have him from here, Ser Harwin will you please make sure the princess makes it back to her room.” 

Harwin nodded, and Rhaenyra pressed a kiss to (Y/N)’s cheek. “I will see you tomorrow at the tourney.” 

“Goodnight, (Y/N), Prince Daemon.” 

(Y/N) and Daemon bid the both of them goodnight, before the guards at (Y/N)’s door open the doors to his chamber and Daemon practically dragged his son into the room. Daemon instructe (Y/N) to lift his arms, and when he did he undid the jerkin and brought the tunic over his head, tossing it to the side. 

“Undo your boots.” 

(Y/N) complied, and when he was done Daemon led him toward the bed. When (Y/N) was seated on the bed, Daemon turned to leave, but (Y/N) grabbed his arm and stopped him in his tracks. “We have not had our conversation.” 

Daemon smiled, “Rest, we will have it tomorrow I promise.” 

(Y/N) nodded, “Alright.” 

Daemon pressed him down into the bed slowly, pushing the blankets back so that (Y/N) could get underneath them. He brushed (Y/N)’s sweaty hair out of his face, smoothing it down not unlike his mother used to do when he was ill. (Y/N) leaned into the touch, and Daemon smiled. 

“Sleep.” 

(Y/N) closed his eyes, slipping quickly into rest. But not before he felt the ghost of lips pressed against his forehead.

(Y/N) hated himself the next morning. 

He closed his eyes as he bathed, letting the warm water alleviate some of his migraine. He dressed slowly, groaning as a loud knock sounded throughout the room. 

“Come in.” 

Daemon strolled into the room, taking a look at his son’s appearance before chuckling. “How are you feeling?” (Y/N) just glared at him, causing Daemon to laugh again. He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.” 

Daemon placed a small vile in front of him, and (Y/N) raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s watered down dreamwine,” Daemon said, “For your head.” 

“Oh,” (Y/N) took the vial, opened it and sniffed it a bit before downing it. “Thank you.” 

Daemon nodded, turning to leave. 

“Are you not here to continue our conversation?” (Y/N) called out, and Daemon turned back to face him. 

“I just wanted to see if you were well.” 

“I am.” (Y/N) smiled, “I just have a headache, I will live.” 

Daemon nodded, taking a seat across from (Y/N). He looked nervous at the thought of continuing their conversation from before the feast, it endeared (Y/N) to see his father’s usual tough exterior come crumbling down at the idea of a conversation. 

Giving his father some respite, (Y/N) changed the topic of conversation, “I saw you dancing with Laena Velayron last night. Is she not already betrothed?” 

“A man cannot dance with a lady?” Daemon asked, although his expression gave him away. 

“Not when that man is you, father.” (Y/N) said. “Do you wish to get remarried? You have no real need for any more heirs.” 

Daemon shrugged, “Perhaps I wish for company.” 

“You are lonely?” (Y/N) almost laughed at the thought. He could not imagine the so-called Lord of Flea Bottom wanting for the comforts of a lady. 

“Well my only son prefers to spend his time at Runestone pretending I don’t exist.” 

(Y/N)’s mood soured, and he frowned. He turned away from his father, crossing his arms like he wasn’t a man of seven and ten and instead a boy of nine. “You did not give me a choice. I was just saving myself from the pain I would feel when you inevitably wouldn’t arrive.” 

“I know.” Daemon ran his hand down his face. “I did not mean that I apologize.” 

“You know you have missed my last ten name days.” (Y/N) whispered. 

“I know.” Daemon said. “I sent you presents but I know that does not make up for my absence.” 

“I never received any gifts.” 

Daemon looked up in confusion, his expression contorted before he let out a bitter laugh. “No, of course you didn’t. Your mother probably never gave them to you. She never held any love for me.” 

“I remember you did not hold much for her either.” (Y/N) spat. “She told me that you fled Runestone the night after I was born, and did not return until my first name day only to flee that night as well.” 

“I was a boy, no older than you are now.” 

“That is no excuse!” 

“No it’s not and I have regretted my decisions every day! I was scared, (Y/N)!” Daemon stood. “When I found out your mother was pregnant I was terrified. We held no love toward each other, and I feared that our hatred toward each other would impact you. I was an idiot boy so I fled. Then you were born, and I was still just this boy, and you were so pure and I could not corrupt that with my hatred so I feld again. I fled again and again, because I was scared I could not be a good father to you, as I could not be a good husband to your mother and she could not be a good wife to me. When I finally realized what an imbecile I had been it was too late, you had no idea who I was.” 

(Y/N) remembered the day of his fourth name day vaguely. 

“(Y/N),” His mother gestured to a skinny man with pale hair and eyes like (Y/N). “Your father is here to see you.” 

The man approached him, and (Y/N) stepped back, placing his mother between him and this stranger. The man’s face fell, and he stumbled back. 

“Perhaps it would be best if I left.” 

“Daemon-” 

“It’s fine.” The man handed a wrapped package to his mother. “Give this to him.”

"You're running? Again?"

"Look at him Rhea-"

"No, run. Like you always do."

The man opened his mouth to speak, but he seemed to think better of it. He turned on his heel and left, and (Y/N)'s mother scoffed.

He had seen his father only a few times after that day, and their meetings had always been brief and curt. His mother had certainly not helped (Y/N)’s view of his father, only ever nodding and staying silent when (Y/N) would complain. He had once asked her why Daemon did not stay for more than a night, and his mother had replied that his father hated the Vale and many of those who resided there. It had crushed (Y/N) to hear, but after learning of the gifts his father had sent that he had not received he could only wonder how much of his own hatred for his father was just what he learned to feel from his mother. 

“I am sorry for my absence.” Daemon said. “I can never make up those lost years, and I know my youth and stubbornness is no excuse but-” 

His father took a deep breath, “(Y/N), I wish- if you would allow, for us to start again. I know I cannot ask you to forget the years I was not there for you, but allow me to start again.” 

“I understand.” (Y/N) said, “I cannot forgive-” 

“-I wouldn’t ask you to-” 

“-but I understand. I understand more than I did at the very least.” (Y/N) said, and the tension in his father’s shoulders eased. (Y/N) smiled, it was probably a bit pained, (Y/N)’s head throbbing even more with the revelations of the morning. “We can try to start again. I make no promises, but we can try.” 

His father smiled, a genuine smile that (Y/N) had never seen across his father’s face before. “Thank you.”

“You are not participating, (Y/N)?” 

(Y/N) looked at the queen from where he was seated next to Rhaenyra, shaking his head politely. “I am not a knight, Queen Alicent.” 

Alicent looked him up and down, the motion making him squirm a bit. She did not respond but she nodded, turning her gaze back to the tourney fields. 

His father was not participating in the tourney either, instead taking a seat in the stands. Ser Harwin was participating though, much to Rhaenyra’s delight. (Y/N) did not find much delight in tourney’s, bloodshed was not a game to be played. 

In all honesty, (Y/N) was bored watching the tourney. Ser Criston had won, wearing Alicent’s favor which (Y/N) could tell irritated Rhaenyra. By the time the melee rolled around the next day (Y/N) was dreading spending the hot day in the stands of the tourney grounds. 

“May I have your favor, princess.” 

Rhaenyra laughed, giving Harwin a small piece of cloth. He tucked it into his armor, turning to (Y/N) who smiled. 

“I don’t have a favor,” (Y/N) said, and Harwin smiled, cheeks reddening slightly. “But I wish you luck.” 

“Thank you, (Y/N).” 

Their luck and favors did Harwin no favors in the melee. Rhaenyra had shrieked when Cristion’s morningstar made contact with Harwin’s collarbone, shattering it and his elbow. But the worst injury of the day had been to Ser Joffrey, and (Y/N) could not get Laenor’s cries out of his mind even as he fell asleep that night. 

There were no more tourney’s after that as a solemn mood had fallen over the royal court. Ser Harwin would live (Y/N) and Rhaenyra discovered, but Ser Joffrey was not likely to. And as it happened six days later, Joffrey passed, and Ser Laenor was inconsolable. Rhaenyra and (Y/N) both tried, even if (Y/N) was not as close with his cousin as Rhaenyra was, but in the end the knight took his leave back to Driftmark before the wedding even happened. 

(Y/N) spent the night before the wedding with his father. His father told him the story of his wedding with (Y/N)’s mother, describing how (Y/N)’s grandfather, Baelon, had to drag Daemon to Runestone. 

“If it is any comfort,” (Y/N) mused. “You had to drag me to Kingslanding.” 

Daemon laughed, “I did. But you will have a much happier marriage than your mother and I.” 

(Y/N) lifted his cup, “One can hope.” 

The wedding itself snuck up on (Y/N), the events of the week leading up to it not allowing him to worry about the ceremony. It was only now that he was dressed in red and gold Valyrian robes, standing atop Rhaenys’ hill, surrounded by the lords and ladies of Westeros, that the nerves started to reach him. 

He could hear the distant roars of the dragon’s in the dragon pit as the priest spoke. (Y/N) lifted the dragonglass blade, handed to him by the priest. He made quick eye contact with his father, who only nodded, before slicing Rhaenyra’s bottom lip. He gathered the blood from the cut, dragging his thumb down her forehead. Rhaenyra took her own blade, repeating the action on (Y/N) before slicing her palm.(Y/N) dragged the blade against his palm, taking Rhaenyra’s hand in his. They joined their blood as the priest spoke. 

(Y/N) took the cup handed to him, drinking from it, before handing it to Rhaenyra who did the same. The priest finished his rites, and (Y/N) cupped Rhaenyra’s cheek, he could taste the blood as he brought her lips to meet his. (Y/N) rested his forehead against Rhaenyra’s as cheers were sounded around them. When they pulled away and faced the crowd, he could see his father and uncle smiling. 

Their hands were wrapped by the priest, covering the open wounds, and they descended down the hill. Rhaenyra did not let go of his hand as they went, smiling at him as he helped her into the carriage waiting for them. “Thank you, valzȳrys.”

Both he and Rhaenyra were dressed in their small clothes separately. He’d been offered food and wine before he was brought over to Rhaenyra’s chambers, but he turned them down. He did not wish to spend his wedding night addled by wine. 

Viserys had insisted on a bedding ceremony, and Daemon had no qualms with the idea. But both (Y/N) and Rhaenyra protested. The meeting had ended unsuccessfully, but (Y/N) suspected Rhaenyra had private words with her father, as by the next meeting the topic had been dropped completely and it was agreed there would be no such ceremony. 

The doors to Rhaenyra’s chambers were opened by the guards, and (Y/N) stepped into the room. Rhaenyra was sitting by the vanity, brushing her hair in a velvet dress that hung loosely from her body. (Y/N) felt like a hedge knight in his plain cloth clothing. 

She smiled at him, placing the brush down on the vanity. She glided across the room, coming to stand in front of him. “Valzȳrys.” 

“Ābrazȳrys” 

Rhaenyra gently grasped the laces of his tunic, undoing them slowly. She kept eye contact with (Y/N) as she did so, letting his tongue wet her lower lip as the laces were fully loosened. (Y/N) grabbed the bottom of his tunic, bringing it up over his head, and placing it on a chair next to him. 

Rhaenyra took a deep breath as she watched (Y/N), she brought her hand up and gingerly traced the contours of his abdomen. (Y/N) took her hand in his, bringing it up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the back of it. 

“Turn around.” (Y/N) said, and Rhaenyra complied. 

He stepped forward, brushing her hair to her front so that he could see the back of her dress. She shivered as his breath touched the back of her neck. He undid the laces of her dress with careful precision, causing her to laugh and joke. 

“Done this before?” 

Instead of responding, (Y/N) let the dress fall down her shoulders, leaving her bare. She stiffened as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, before relaxing as he moved his mouth up her neck. She turned around and (Y/N)’s mouth went dry at the sight of her bare in front of him. She grabbed his neck, leaning up and connecting their lips. She grasped the laces of his trousers, undoing them in haste and shoving them down his legs. (Y/N) stepped out of them, groaning into Rhaenyra’s lip as she grasped him. He could feel her smile against his lips, and he pulled away bringing his mouth to her chest, eliciting a gasp from the princess. 

“(Y/N),” She gasped, and he kissed up her chest to her collarbone and back up to her lips, swallowing her next words. 

He pulled her close to him, lifting her so that she could wrap her legs around his waist and carried her to the bed. He gently set her down, and she smiled up at him. He returned the smile, before reconnecting their lips. Rhaenyra gasped as (Y/N) pulled away to mouth at her neck, she tangled her fingers in his hair pulling him up from where there would inevitably be a mark on her skin the next morning. 

“Stop teasing.” 

“Hen rhinka, ñuha ābrazȳrys.”

---

Translations -

Lykirī - be calm

Sōvēs - fly

Valzȳrys - husband

Ābrazȳrys - wife

Hen rhinka, ñuha ābrazȳrys - of course, my wife

[drakaripykiros130ac]

I find it amusing how the Hightowers spent years spreading rumors about Rhaenyra’s boys with Laenor, and a generation later, Lyonel Hightower and his “wife” (ex-stepmother) Samantha Tarly have six children who are the talk of the Realm (are they bastards or aren’t they?)

Karma’s a bitch.

And GRRM knows how to deliver it ;)

[alicentflorent]

I don't know if this will make sense but the women on game of thrones (when they were adapting the full source material ASOIAF) actually felt like women living in a feudalistic society and most of them were layered, three dimensional female characters and there was enough world building that we understood the world they lived in and how this impacted who they were. In HOTD however, it doesn't feel like they even live in a feudalistic society and they are clearly being written and viewed through a modern lens and this is obvious when you see the people involved in the show constantly comparing their women and the storylines involving them to the modern, real world ("women for trump", Hilary Clinton losing the election etc) when there are plenty of historical women and historical examples they can compare it to, I mean Rhaenyra was literally based on empress Matilda!! but they aren't capable of world building this medieval style society despite the fact that the books have already done it, another show has already done it but these showrunners and writers aren't capable of writing a story without allowing their modern world views to affect it and not in a critical but authentic way but in a "I'm going to treat these women as if they haven't been socialised in a feudalistic society where misogyny is the norm and another fatal flaw in the system and write these characters like they should know better than to act like Noble women living under feudalism.

[saltywinteradult]

This is what people need to understand: Rhaenicent isn't for Alicent stans, it exists for Rhaenyra fans only.

They would never have Rhaenyra grovel at Alicent's feet.

They would never have Rhaenyra agree to make Aegon II her heir instead of Jace.

They would never have Rhaenyra forgive Aemond for Luke's death.

They would never have Rhaenyra abandon her children and people.

It's the reason I could never like Rhaenicent, from Day 1 it was made abundantly clear that this ship existed solely to prop up Rhaenyra.

I think you are entirely correct, anon​ - but only about canon Rhaenicent.

Of course the hack HotD writers were never going to disrespect Nyra Sue like they disrespected Alicent. And most Rhaenicent shippers are Rhaenyra stans who are fine with that. It’s perfectly fine if that’s a dealbreaker to you - but allow me to elaborate on why it isn’t to me.

Wanting a pairing to get together in canon is not the only way to ship. I am a tragedy enjoyer first and a human being second; the appeal of Rhaenicent to me lies in Rhaenicent as a tragic lost love that never could be, because they were doomed by the narrative to become enemies. (Or as a hilarious ”broke up and made it everyone’s problem” dynamic when I’m in a facetious mood. Gay sex would probably make this situation worse but they should try anyway etc etc) Most of the many, many, many times I've stated this opinion, I've seen at least a couple of people agreeing with me. While we are in the minority among Rhaenicent shippers, we do exist. So it should go without saying that I hate, hate, HAAATE what the show did with Rhaenicent in season 2.

However, while the show writers are unfortunately beholden to their stupid, stupid version of the canon story, fans aren't! There's nothing stopping anyone from writing what the HotD writers should've written - Alicent and Rhaenyra pining away for each other, going to war and hating every minute of it, yet unable to do anything but hurt each other over and over because they were forced to become enemies. Or writing a fic where Rhaenyra grovels at Alicent’s feet. Or writing any of the countless canon divergent scenarios where Rhaenicent could’ve happened without butchering either character.

So yes, anon, canon Rhaenicent unfortunately exists only to prop​ up Rhaenyra. I am with the haters on that one. But fanon Rhaenicent is ours to do with as we wish.

[tidetower]

Your hand to mine; My heart to yours

Artist: douxxess

[avnasace]

rhaenyras gaydar is incredible, she has managed to sniff out not one, not two, not three, but four queers.

like i know we gays tend to gravitate to eachother but goddamn shes married two queer men and now shes rizzing up mysaria, (who is ironically queer husband number two's ex fiancee) and this is without even mentioning the tragic-homoerotic-childhood-friend lesbians vibe she had going on with alicent like?

rhaenyra you are an inspiration.

[thevelaryons]

Before the airing of season 1 of House Of The Dragon, the showrunners Ryan Condal and Miguel Sapochnik said Laenor would be a good portrayal of a gay character. Then they made him have internalized homophobia. Then they had him abandon his grieving family to live a free gay life in Essos. He even abandoned his dragon because that was stopping him from being a happy gay man with his lover. As a gay person, it’s one of the worst gay representations I’ve seen in media. The showrunners made their gay character into a terrible selfish person who helps agree to kill one of his family servants so that he can run off with his lover. His allies, Rhaenyra and Daemon, are terrible people too. Laenor was just awful gay representation and ever other gay relationship from the book was erased (I’m glad about it or they would be ruined too).

To be fair, Laenor left because he craved the violence of the battlefield over the mundane life mixed with court politics (not that it’s a much better excuse), but yeah, what the show did to him is a travesty.

I think depicting stories where the gay characters have internalized homophobia is not necessarily an issue. Opinions may vary on this, but as a gay person myself, I’ve enjoyed the kind of stories that tackle the issue of homophobia, so long as it’s well written. Laenor’s story in HOTD is not well written. Especially because that internalized homophobia only exists to make other characters, like Rhaenyra, look good. The reason why Laenor comes off as bad gay rep on the show is because his character is just there to prop up others versus the book portrayal which afforded him integrity as an individual (despite him being a minor character).

That scene in season one/episode seven where Laenor talks about how much he hates himself and then Rhaenyra comforts him by saying that he is a “honourable man with a good heart” is only for Rhaenyra’s benefit. Because Laenor can say in that scene that he wants to be there for his family but then next thing we see is him orchestrating his escape. He’s basically forced out of his own life and the show frames it all as a good thing courtesy of Rhaenyra’s kindness. The window scene between Laenor and Rhaenyra even portrays Rhaenyra with a halo of light around her because it’s not just the writing on this show that’s manipulative but the direction too.

Even just the way Laenor is depicted onscreen is downright offensive. His characterization was changed completely to being a hypermasculine drunk who apparently spends all his time fucking around. He makes vulgar comments about his wife in front of others too. All of it is meant to portray him as a selfish person who is disrespectful while his wife is tirelessly suffering the burdens of having to fulfill her duty. In Fire & Blood, neither of them really gave a damn about each other or about their duty. But the show changes it so that Rhaenyra looks like the good one while throwing Laenor’s character completely under the bus.

Despite Laenor being a rather minor character in the book, GRRM actually gave him some character development. Laenor started out as being somewhat distant from his wife/kids (he was living comfortably on Driftmark while his wife/kids all faced the tense court rivalry by themselves for the most part) but after the rising political tensions between the Blacks and the Greens, Laenor is the one who makes an effort to be there for his family at last, and he did not need to sacrifice his personal life to do so:

“Do keep trying,” Queen Alicent told Ser Laenor, according to Mushroom, “soon or late, you may get one who looks like you.” And the rivalry between the greens and blacks grew deeper, finally reaching the point where the queen and the princess could scarce suffer each other’s presence. Thereafter Queen Alicent kept to the Red Keep, whilst the princess spent her days on Dragonstone, attended by her ladies, Mushroom, and her champion, Ser Harwin Strong. Her husband, Ser Laenor, was said to visit “frequently.”

— Fire & Blood, Heirs of the Dragon

Compare that to what the show did and it’s the complete opposite. Laenor has been living in King’s Landing the whole time and he’s miserable about it. After feeling antagonized by Alicent in season one/episode six, Laenor decides he wants to run away. So Rhaenyra has to tearfully admonish him for his behaviour and plead with him to stay with his family:

I’ve been saying this for a while, but the changes on the show are always deliberately done. It’s not a case of “ambiguous narrator” or “false history” when each time the changes only serve certain characters and screw over others. There’s a clear bias in the writing on HOTD.

[sweetestpopcorn]

What do you think Viserys was thinking when he forced Rhae to marry Laenor, a known gay man? He had to know that her only options were fidelity=no kids/known as barren, assaulting Laenor multiple times to get kids, or infidelity (uncertain parentage forever used as a “gotcha!” for the Greens). I know he can be foolish but my god he REALLY didn’t think that one through.

I don't have to think a lot, it's answered for us in Fire & Blood, like so much more. Isn't it great when we have facts and we don't have to have theories? I personally love it but that makes me an exception in this fandom I know <3

So turning to page 394 370

"One objection was raised: Laenor Velaryon was now nineteen years of age, yet had never shown any interest in women. Instead he surrounded himself with handsome squires of his own age, and was said to prefer their company. But Grand Maester Mellos dismissed this concern out of hand. "What of it?" he said. "I do not like fish, but when fish is served, I eat it." Thus the match was decided." - Fire and Bloog, pg. 370.

Homosexuality was not understood, in Westeros as far as we have evidence, it was tolerated as long as it was kept hidden and that the men and women still married and had children. This was what was expected that Laenor would do, and with Grand Maester Mellos's assurance, this was what Viserys expected that would happen: that despite his preferences Laenor would still make himself available to have children with Rhaenyra.

That went well said no one.

But is this such a strange thing for Viserys to think? Think even in our world how many people still deny and erase homosexuality, think it's "just a phase", and the pressure people are still put under to be straight and have straight relationships.

I would say Viserys's attitude and the overall attitude of his council are a very accurate portrayal of many in our society, let alone in Westeros.

Much love to you ☺️

PS: This concerns the asoiaf canon, not the g*t canon. There are two canons and like water and oil they don't mix.

[atopvisenyashill]

What if Laena Velaryon had been born a boy?

this one is a stumper for me because it changes a LOT (bc, and I cannot emphasize this enough, but Laena is important to the plot and to Rhaenyra as a character!!)

The great council still sides with Viserys because Laenor was alive, and Rhaenys pushed his claim in canon, so having a slightly older son isn't going to do much for that.

Where this really starts to affect the plot is when Viserys is looking to remarry. Laena is pushed forward as the "correct" match because she is Valyrian, and it would soothe Corlys and Rhaenys' ruffled feathers from the GC 101. But if they have no daughters, that clearly doesn't happen. This also means there is straight up no Valyrian woman able to marry and have children except Rhaenyra during this time period which is a little wild (Rhaenys and maybe Jocelyn are alive, but past child bearing years, and these people just refuse to marry Celtigars which is deeply funny). Viserys has some room to pick whoever he wants to marry in this situation though, and I think it's not unlikely that more than Otto tries to take advantage of that (but Otto is still going to win).

HOWEVER. Especially after Rhaenyra is named heir, I think Corlys starts pushing that a boy Laena (obviously she's called Laenor, and probably actual Laenor is called like, Lucerys or something) marries Rhaenyra. I think it's likely he throws himself behind Rhaenyra hard, insisting that Laena and House Velaryon will uphold her claim, protect her birthright, "We Will Be Strong As We Were In Old Valyria By Joining Our Blood", etc etc, and since Viserys is not snubbing Corlys by refusing to marry Laena, I think there’s a non zero chance Laena and Rhaenyra are engaged very young.

But what does this mean for the Dance? Well…

Rhaenyra is probably less hostile to her marriage. Laena is a daring dragon rider who adores his mother & supports Rhaenyra and, most importantly, can give her heirs, so I think Rhaenyra pushes against this marriage much less. However, part of Rhaenyra’s anger over the engagement isn’t just the risk of marrying a man who may not give her children, or easing her father’s political headaches, but the idea that Rhaenyra is not allowed sexual freedom while Daemon and Viserys (and later Aegon) all are. So whether Rhaenyra is hostile to the marriage largely depends on how well she gets on with Laena and whether she feels like has control over her sexuality. In canon they are close, but in canon Laena is a woman and that does make a difference. There’s also The Criston Cole And Daemon Of It All - if Rhaenyra has a fiancé looking out for her, does Rhaenyra get so attached to him? Does whatever happens the night she goes to Daemon & Criston still happen?

It’s all kind of hard to say considering both Eustace and Mushroom are full of shit and Gyldayn is a raging misogynist. And regardless of the fallout of that, what Laena gives Rhaenyra is incredibly important - Valyrian looking heirs. With at the very least a Jacaerys that looks like a Velaryon (because he is by blood this time), a large part of the Greens propaganda falls apart. Yes, she’s a woman, but she has a Valyrian heir with a husband she probably likes & takes an active role in her life, and the unwavering support of the Velaryons. PLUS with the dragon twins gone, that frees Jace up to marry literally anyone - like, say, Helaena! Or potentially, one of the storm sisters! And if anyone gets too cute with Rhaenyra, well, Laena has Vhagar!

Again, the wildcards here are Criston and Daemon. Daemon especially has no way back into the main Targaryen line because there are no Valyrian women for him to marry. I think that makes him much more erratic when Rhaenyra marries, because he can see his hopes of being “accepted” slipping away and he has no other option to turn to.

So….Rhaenyra is theoretically better off by the time her father dies. If she cares for Laena as a man the way she cared for Laena as a woman, she will have the full backing of House Velaryon, a legitimate heir who is free to make a great political match, a husband happy to back her claim, and once again, Vhagar on her side and Aemond defanged. The question is if this marriage stays happy or if it sours because Rhaenyra feels stifled, or Daemon/Cole does something particularly deranged about it at any point.

[hs-is-loml]

Love Looks Good On You. (a.t)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Velaryon!OC

Summary: the morning after. viserys admits a fault to viserra. maybe it's more than one fault.

Warnings: fluff, little angst, parental neglect from rhaenyra, typical family drama, incestual relationship uncle/niece (UNEDITED)

a/n: finally came around to writing this chapter and the plot of the story! this should've been viserys redemption arc.

all translations of high valyrian come from google! english translations are in parentheses!!

masterlist - series masterlist

Viserra woke up intertwined in Aegon’s tight embrace and soft snores with the sun peeking through their windows. She brought her hand up towards his face to brush off fallen hair. She lazily admired Aegon’s features for a while before deciding to get started with her day and attempted to untangle herself from his grasp. 

“W-wait. Wait, where do you think you are off to?” Ageon groaned as he rubbed the sleep off his eyes and adjusted to the light in the room. 

As Viserra wrapped a silk robe around herself, she turned back to him and said, “It is a beautiful day, Husband. It would be a waste to spend it inside.”

At her words, a smile was brought on his face and he sat up from his position in their bed. “Husband… It is nice to hear you say that, my beautiful wife” he admitted. 

“You are going to hear it all the time now,” she went over to him and pressed a light kiss against his lips. When she went to pull back from the kiss, Aegon brought his hand under her chin to pull her back in. “I am going to be late, Aegon…” she mumbled against his lips. 

“Meet me later, I will be out with Sunfyre.”

Viserra spent the following morning on the garden grounds for a stroll before she saw a glimpse of her grandfather trudging through the area. She approached his side and paced herself slowly as she walked beside him while guiding them to a place to sit down. “You know your mother was not always the way she is now,” Viserys brought up. “When she was younger, she had the same kindness and compassion you hold today. I suppose it is my fault.”

“Your fault?” Viserra enquired with confusion written across her face for why Viserys was bringing this subject up now. She could have never imagined how it would be her grandfather’s fault for how Rhaenyra was now. “I am afraid I do not understand, Grandfather.”

They took a seat on a bench beneath one of the many tapestries, Alicent has slowly placed throughout the Keep. “I pushed her too far too soon. I wanted a son. My poor Aemma went through many tragedies because of me. When I finally got my wish, Rhaenyra lost her mother and brother on the same day. I was not there for her to grieve or give her consolation properly for I was not aware how to.”

“Queen Aemma?”

“Yes, My darling Aemma. She would have loved you. When she died, she took a part of me with her. I realized on that day how I spent more time dreaming of what could be. I never appreciated what was right in front of my eyes. I should have considered Rhaenyra more when she was younger,” Viserys admitted somberly. “She lost her mother and then was immediately crowned heir right after. It did not help that I chose Alicent to be my next wife either; she lost her closest confidante due to me. She fell right into Daemon’s clutch from them.”

Viserra was at a loss for words with countless what-ifs surrounding her thoughts. “What was she like before?” 

“She was fierce, efficient, and lacked patience which led to her impulsiveness, but more importantly she had ambition some men wish for. I pushed her too far when she was forced to marry your father,” he explained to her in reminiscing.

“Rhaenyra and father loved each other in ways parents do generally not love. My father was different. We all knew it though I think he was what she needed to keep her grounded before they were born.”

“Ah, yes. Your mother’s bastards. I tried turning a blind eye when Jacaerys was born as we all hoped for another child as precious as you, my dear. You were always light as a feather, but tough as a stone when you were growing up. Though it was difficult to support your mother’s mistakes time and time again.” 

“You are talking about the night at Driftmark…” Viserra trailed off as she pointed out.

Viserys let out a deep sigh as he recalled the night, “That night sealed our families’ fate. It made me open my eyes to the cruel brutality our once whole family became. I would have never imagined for you and Aemond to get caught in the crossfire so young. I never once wished for us to come to such shambles, nor did I wish to be King, my dear. I know your grandmother Rhaenys deserved the right to the throne.”

“Grandfather, pōnta gōntan daor iderēbagon zȳhon naejot udrāzma. Pōnta iderēptan ao, se ao mirre īlva isse peace,” Viserra tried to comfort the King. (Grandfather, they did not choose her to rule. They chose you, and you kept us in peace)

“Nyke istan daor vēttan naejot udrāzma. Nyke unfit, viserra. J-jurnegon issa,” he insisted. (I was not made to rule. I am unfit, Viserra. L-look at me.) “Se dēmalion rejects issa tolvie single jēda nyke sit bē ziry.” (The throne rejects me every single time I sit upon it.)

“That does not mean-”

“Yes, it does, you know the rules,” he cut her off. “Although you have shown me time and time again, you will lead the realms how Aegon conquered them. You have made me proud.” 

“Thank you, Grandfather,” Viserra swelled with pride at his words.

“Do you remember that story I would always tell you when you were just a child?”

“The Song of Ice and Fire?” she answered in question.

“Ah, yes.”

“What of it?”

“Will you tell me the story, today?”

“Of course,” Viserra smiled as she started to recount the story. “Aegon the Conqueror once prophesized in a dream that he saw absolute darkness riding on the winds, and whatever dwells within will destroy the world of the living.”

Viserys broke out in a fit of coughs which made Viserra pause in worry as she called for a servant to fetch wine for him. “My dear, continue,” he told her as the servant brought his cup and walked away from them.

“When this great winter comes, all of Westeros must stand against it, and if the world of men is to survive, then a Targaryen must be seated on the”

“Iron Throne,” her grandfather said with a faint smile planted on his face.

“A King or Queen, strong enough to unite the realms against the cold and the dark,” she continued on. “Aegon called his dream, ‘A Song of Ice and Fire,’ This secret, has been passed from King to Heir since Aegon’s time. One that as Targaryens must promise to keep and carry with all of our protection,” she finished from what she could remember.

“From my blood come the Prince that was Promised, and his will be the Song of Ice and Fire,”  Viserys murmured to himself.

Though Viserra caught the words, “The Prince that was promised?” 

“Each King is told to look for the Prince who was promised before they take their reign. We all wish that we would be the s-so-called Prince since Aegon’s time of his dream. Though n-no one has come close to the role, I believe you will.”

“Grandfather…” Viserra began skeptical of his insinuation. 

“Viserra, you are more than just our heir. You are who is p-promised.”

As her mind filled with endless questions on how her grandfather would know such a thing, she turned away from Viserys and look around the Keep. She slid her hands over her face and turned back to meet her Grandfather’s eyes. “What if I am not?”

Viserys shakingly brought his clutched hand and gestured for Viserra to open her palm. He dropped his House of Targaryen signet ring into her hand, and he whispered to her carefully, “You will never be alone to fight your battles. Remember this family is our legacy, but you are its savior.”

[nancylou444]

Bonus Canon LGBTQ+ Character of the Day

Laenor Velaryon (House of the Dragon)

[drakaripykiros130ac]

It would have been interesting to see Alicent Hightower married to someone with an actual spine.

Would she have had the nerve to do everything she did had she had been married to Jaehaerys? (That was Otto’s initial plan). I doubt it. The first sniff of Hightowers putting their self-interests above those of the Crown, and the marriage would have been annulled.

Viserys granted Alicent so many privileges and let her do whatever she wanted around Court. And she abused all that power. Jaehaerys would have never let her get away with it.

And what if Alicent had been married to someone like Laenor Velaryon? What would she have done had she been in Rhaenyra’s position, and forced into marriage with a man who’s rumored to be gay? What would she have done if Laenor couldn’t give her children and she needed them? I definitely imagine her pouring some sort of potion down his throat and then forcing herself on him.

Alicent had it good with Viserys who indulged her in everything, and never punished her for her actions. She had the good fortune to be married to the most gullible king Westeros ever had. And that still wasn’t enough for her.

[pandora2023]

The Space Between You and Me

Summary: The story takes place after Laena's funeral from Rhaenys' point of view. The loss of her daughter and then the sudden death of Laenor make the distance between her and Corlys grow when he decides to go to war.

The sun was still rising as it did every day and just as it would after I am no longer here, the waves hit the rocks and mold them into surreal shapes, the wind rushes moving the leaves of the trees, carrying seeds to a new home, and I am still breathing but nothing is the same anymore. The sun doesn't warm the same, the figures on the rocks now haunt me and the wind is cold as snow.

The same mornings were even worse, the light filtering through the windows into the bed, the fine sheets covering my body and the same empty space beside me, the source of the winter in which my soul was immersed. It had been there, its scent was unique, a mark I would not mistake even if I were submerged in the middle of a garden in spring.

This castle was huge, there was no lack of rooms, if we didn't want to see each other it was easy to trace routes that would never cross, but even after the battle we had had he kept coming to sleep next to me, turning his back to us, avoiding glances, friction and words, but even that small act confirmed to both of us that this battle would come to an end, that we were both silently trying to fight against what separated us, after all, we had done that for over 20 years and even if the wind blew hard our boat always touched the harbor.

The tide had not yet subsided when a new storm came in. The sun had barely gone down and taken with it all the light, a dark shadow fell upon us once more.

"My Lord, my Lady" the guard's pale face already announced grim news "Sir Laenor..."

Seguir leyendo

[skitskatdacat63]

People need to stop making Rhaenicent if they were canon edits, it's killing me 😭😭😭😭😭

[korzionarchive]

@dastardlydaemon liked for a starter

Rhaenys wasn't supposed to be there; Corlys had argued against it, saying she needed to stay at home with the children. But Laena was of an age where she could manage High Tide while her father's mother sat the Driftwood Throne.

The princess had bowed once when forbidden to fight only for her father to come home dead when she could have possibly done something about it. She would not see Corlys suffer the same fate and this time she was not with child so that fact could not be used to ground her.

"Better two dragons than one, anyway," Rhaenys returned as her lord husband gave her grief upon her arrival. She turned to look at Daemon, coaxing him to agree with her with both words and a look. "Isn't that right, cousin?"

[sweetestpopcorn]

hi! feel free to ignore this if you've already answered it before, but I was curious about your thoughts of Laenor/Rhaenyra alledgedy friendship the fandom is convinced they had going on.

originally I assumed it was a headcanon originating from [degoratory] but apparently, no. Many ppl share up and down that in fire & blood rhaenya x laenor grew closer post their marriage and were friends since Rhaenyra had no problem with laenor's lovers nor he with Ser Harwin.

Now, I'll admit I didn't really care for laenor in f&b tbh so maybe I should have focus more? But one thing I'm always fixated is how Viserys basically threatened Rhaenyra into marrying laenor (i like him. don't get me wrong but he doesn't get enough lashes for this) and rhaenyra's reaction is also reported. To have cried, screamed, begged etc. Obviously nothing positive.

the only "good" thing I can remember between rhaneyra and laenor is him being there with her when the children were born - which, sure that's nice but don't they both have an appearance to keep up? Like, maybe he was there to play the doting husband?

again, I don't mind the laenor x rhaneyra besties thing as a headcanon but I've seen readers being convinced and using their friendship as if it's canon in their arguments so i was wondering if I'm blind? Where they friends and I missed it? i think you might have mentioned in the past that you also don't think they had some deep rooted friendship but if so, where is everyone basing their beliefs from?

Hi there,

So I went over how that headcanon of Rhaenyra and Laenor being bffs holds no value in canon, and actually the books directly contradict it.

No, you are not blind. This fandom just has a very big imagination. Like @queenhousetargaryen once very well mentioned:

I don't know if these lies that are spread come from a desire to make Laenor into more than what he was because they like his parents, from trying to make it look like Rhaenyra's life was less miserable, or a bit of both or something else.

Where they take any of that from? Well where many in this fandom take their general beliefs and ideas from: www.voicesinsidemyhead.com and also www.convenientbeliefs4u.com or some BFN's lame post with 0 in book quotes.

Personally I cannot stand this "headcanon" because of what I mentioned: It takes away how much Rhaenyra suffered from being forced to marry against her will, and it also takes away from the pain she lived through those 6 years and how alone she was. It will never not be funny to me that the same BFN that rage at arranged marries suddenly seem to forget their aversion where Rhaenyra and Laenor are concerned. Oh well, anything to make the Velayrons look like perfect angels I suppose.

Some people: Rhaenyra and Laenor were bffs and he was a great choice of husband for her!

Us: Is Rhaenyra and Laenor being bffs and him being a great choice of husband for her here in the room with us?

You're not blind.

PS: Goes without saying but I still have to say it, everything written above concerns asoiaf canon Rhaenyra and asoiaf canon Laenor only. Keep redacted trash out of my tumblr. Thank you!