#ch: rhaella targaryen

[stromuprisahat]

And thus it was there at Casterly Rock that Princess Rhaena gave birth to Aegon’s daughters, twins they named Aerea and Rhaella. ... The maester at Casterly Rock who helped deliver the children tells us that afterward Princess Rhaena begged the prince her husband to take them all across the narrow sea to Tyrosh or Myr or Volantis, anywhere beyond their uncle’s reach, for “I would gladly give up my own life to make you king, but I will not put our girls at risk.” But her words fell on stony ears and her tears were shed in vain, for Prince Aegon was determined to claim his birthright.

...

When word of the battle reached the west and Princess Rhaena learned that both her husband and her friend Lady Melony had fallen, it is said she heard the news in a stony silence. “Will you not weep?” she was asked, to which she replied, “I do not have the time for tears.” Whereupon, fearing her uncle’s wroth, she gathered up her daughters, Aerea and Rhaella, and fled farther, first to Lannisport and then across the sea to Fair Isle, where the new lord Marq Farman (whose father and elder brother had both perished in the battle, fighting for Prince Aegon) gave her sanctuary and swore no harm would come to her beneath his roof.

...

... If Prince Aegon had truly been the king, by law his eldest daughter, Aerea, stood his heir, and might therefore claim to be the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms…but Aerea and her sister, Rhaella, were barely a year old, and Rhaena knew that to trumpet such claims would be tantamount to condemning them to death. Instead, she dyed their hair, changed their names, and sent them from her, entrusting them to certain powerful allies, who would see them fostered in good homes by worthy men who would have no inkling of their true identities. Even their mother must not know where the girls were going, the princess insisted; what she did not know she could not reveal, even under torture.No such escape was possible for Rhaena.

Fire and Blood (George R. R. Martin)

Rhaena Targaryen, twice Queen, never ruling. Bold and smart, more capable than her brother-husband.

[queenofsarcazm]

Rhaenys Targaryen fix-it fic

Rhaenys Targaryan, daughter to Elia Martell and Rhaegar Targaryan, was murdered at 1 year old by Gregor Clegane, or was she? A fic in which Rhaenys grows up in the Modern world only to be brought back to Westeros before it all goes to shit. Who will she save? Who will she kill? Who will she court?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41624250/chapters/104406582

Excerpt from ch 6

Rae had just woken up from a nap and quickly saw she was not alone. “I assume you’re here because you found something at the library?”

“Yes,” the Waif replied, though stayed put where she was sat at the table, watching Rae with great interest.

“Are you going to show it to me?”

The Waif did get up then, bringing a book that resembled a fancy bible to Rae’s bedside, flipping to the right page before she gave it to Rae, who was relieved to see that it had been written in common English and not in Valyrian.

Rae found the small part about the Princess and read out loud, “Princess Rhaenys Targaryen. Daughter to Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Princess Elia Nymeros Martell, of Dorne. Dark of hair hair with white streaks and golden eyes, taking after her mother. Rhaenys was born on Dragonstone and presented to the court by her father Prince Rhaegar while her mother lay bedridden. Hmm...” Rae frowned, reading on, “whilst her grandmother Queen Rhaella Targaryen embraced her warmly, her grandfather King Aerys II Targaryen refused to touch or hold her, claiming she smelled ‘Dornish’.” - “What the fuck?” Rae looked to the Waif, but the woman just shrugged.

Rae went on, “Rhaenys had a small kitten named Balerion, after the great black dragon of Aegon I Targaryen.” -”How is that relevant?” she asked, shaking her head before continued, “Rhaenys, five years old at the time, died during the Sack of King’s Landing, and her dead body was presented to King Robert Baratheon and his court by Lord Tywin Lannister alongside her mother, Princess Elia, and her infant brother, Prince Aegon…”

Rae took a deep breath. People who killed innocent people, and especially fucking children, deserved to burn in hell, so she was glad she’d already sent someone out to murder Tywin Lannister. If it hadn’t been for the fact that his absence would cause chaos, she would have sent someone after Robert Baratheon too. Gods knows he fucking deserved it after allowing the stuff he’d allowed. She was about to close the book, feeling sick, when the Waif pointed further down the page, at a somewhat smudged footnote. “Look here.”

Rae looked, and then read that part out loud too. “The dead body of the Princess Rhaenys that was presented to Court had recently dyed black hair, which led some to believe that the child was a decoy, and that the Princess Rhaenys is still alive.”

Rae slammed the book shut.

[a-song-of-quill-and-feather]

The Other Stark Girl - Character Posters

Jon Arryn & Robert Baratheon | Aerys Targaryen & Rhaella Targaryen

Eddard Stark | Catelyn Tully

Rhaegar Targaryen & Lyanna Stark | Elia Martell 

Taglist: @tessasocs @perfectlystiles @wokenhardies @zeleniafic @eddysocs @foxesandmagic @raith-way @fyeahnevilleslongbottomsocs @kazinejghafa @jewelswrites-ish @akabluekat @anna-phora @booty-boggins @stilynskii @bitter-post-millennial @lokitrasho {wanna be added?}

Alys Stark Taglist: @golden-limbs

The Other Stark Girl Taglist: @within-thehollowcrown

[dornishdrxgon]

— tag drop no.2

[madsmikkelsenschesthair]

Blood of the Dragon ch. 8

Summary: Freyja meets the Mad Grandfather and has a strange but prophetic dream.

A/n: yaaaallll I am so sooo sorry but our dear Danny won’t be in this story. I will be using her to make my aesthetics so technically y’all are kinda her? But not really her HER? Get it? No? Me neither! Enjoy! Remember to send me a message for comments, questions, and concerns. Like I said before, Keep it nice.

Warnings: insults, uncomfortable situations, mad Grandfather, one sad papa Rhaegar, fluff, cursing, violence, angst, a hint of death of character

“Look sister! That’s Dragonstone” Little Robb pointed excitedly towards the grey castle that nearly stood on the edge of a cliff. Freyja couldn’t believe it! She had never seen such a big castle in all her life. According to her books and her father, Dragonstone was where her family first settled when they fled Old Valyria. Hundreds of generations have lived in that very same castle and gave birth to new generations and now here she was! This was far too exciting! Freyja could only imagine how big and beautiful Kingslanding was. She couldn’t hardly contain herself her body was jittery and she was grinning from ear to ear until she could no longer feel her face. Little Robb coughed into his cloak breaking Freyja out of her daze, it had been getting chillier these past few weeks and her little brother seemed weaker than when she first met him. On the other hand, Fenrir was growing fast and strong and his puppy eagerness was gone replaced by the adulthood overcoming him. He was ever so faithful as well always by her side, 

Freyja took off her own cloak, red with black fur trim and gold dragons, and put it around his shoulders. “Go back to your chambers,” she told him, “I think we will be there in an hour or so. Stay warm” The cold wind brushed against her cheeks reminding her to do the same, Freyja was far too excited to go back to her own chambers though. Today she will meet her Grandfather Aerys. Her father had not told her much about him or his other brother and she wondered why. Anytime Freyja asked about them the conversation was immediately changed to another topic or her parents would ask her about her day. Freyja kept a mental note of that for later. 

Little Robb stopped midway to the stairs that lead below deck and stared at her, “Are you coming? You’ll get sick too” Freyja kept her eyes on Dragonstone, she could feel magic swarming in her blood as they grew closer. This would be their first and last stop before they left for Kingslanding. She looked down to her wolf, “Come on, Fen” and the pair followed her little brother below deck.

After sailing for so many weeks, the Targaryen fleet stopped and the family got back on the little boats and sailed to the shore. Freyja had no problem stepping off the boat and getting her boots and dress a little wet but her family looked to be in anguish to have their fine clothes soiled. She was used to it after so many years of fishing with her boys. Looking at it now, Dragonstone castle was bigger that it loomed over them. The closer they walked to the entrance the more nervous she got. Freyja saw a group of people waiting for them at the top of the grey steps all of them wearing dark clothes. Her hand closed around the Thor’s Mjolnir on her neck homesickness tightening her stomach. She followed her father and his guards close behind enclosing them, protecting them. The leader of the group that was waiting for them was a short man, an imp, with curly dark hair and a beard and he smiled at her.

“Welcome home Your Grace!” he said his smile growing wider. 

Her King Father’s face broke into a grin, “Lord Tyrion, such a pleasant surprise we thought you would be back in Kingslanding”

“There is no ‘we’ my love” Cersei intervened, her voice cold, “what are you doing here? You should be helping father at the Red Keep”

Freyja was surprised by how much malice there was in her voice towards the little man but he didn’t seem so phased, he only smiled sweetly at her.

“Good to see you too, sweet sister,” Lord Tyrion answered, “but I couldn’t wait to see my new niece” Freyja smiled shyly at her new uncle and she stepped forward. “Look at you!” he gushed “Pure Valyrian beauty! You look just like your father, Princess Y/n” He took her hand and gingerly placed a kiss on top.

She flinched at her new name and her smile almost disappeared but Freyja managed to compose herself after all Tyrion seemed like such a kind man, “Thank you, Uncle Tyrion. It is very nice to meet you and I can’t wait to meet my grandfather”

The grownups gave each other wary looks. Even Uncle Tyrion’s smile faded, “Speaking of,” he turned to Rhaegar, “Your father wishes to speak to you, Your Grace even you Cersei. In the meantime, I will help the children settle and get to know my new niece”

Her parents wasted no time and hurried up the steps with Uncle Jaime and a group of knights following. Freyja watched them, dumbfounded. What were they hiding from her? Why did everyone grow quiet when her grandfather was mentioned? She would have to ask her Uncle these questions.

The interior of Dragonstone was as breathtaking as it was outside. The was seemed to be made of some rare dark stone, the torches on the wall gave it a hint of red golden streaks. That wasn’t all; carvings, drawings, and statues of dragons stood on almost every corner and wall. It truly lived up to its’ name. It was also surprisingly warm, so warm that Freyja took off her cloak. 

“I can’t believe I’m really here,” she said smiling her eyes still wandering up and down the walls and ceiling. “The home of my ancestors” 

Tyrion watched her facial expressions, how happy she looked and even the sparkle in her eyes. And there was something else but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. All he knew was that he was glad the rightful heir to the throne was home Even with her Valyrian looks, Y/n looked Viking or at least a small one in the making. Still, she carried the heavy and dreadful burden of homesickness. Tyrion could see it. 

A woman came in making Freyja lookup. She had on a plain grey dress along with the same colored wimp on her head covering her hair. Little Rob instantly lit up when he saw her. “Ah, dear Septa please take my nephew to his room,” Tyrion said and the woman curtsied. The pair left them alone. He smiled at his niece. “Come, you and I have much to talk about dear Niece. Tell me about Kattegat, your home” 

Freyja’s throat began to close, she followed her uncle down a long corridor it took a bit for her to find her words. “My home”, she began to say slowly, “is very beautiful. There is so much green everywhere and it rains a lot. During the winter it gets really cold but I love it”

“It does sound like paradise” Uncle Tyrion commented with a smile, “I hear you worship different gods”

“We do! We worship Odin, Frigg, Thor, Baldur, Loki, Freyja” her eyes had that sparkle again, “I was born during the wrath of Thor and that’s why I’m Thorsdottir”

Tyrion chuckled. “And you were named Freyja after your mother. It was a nickname Ragnar Lothbrok gave your mother”

Freyja’s smile faded. She missed her family so much and prayed to the Gods Ragnar was safe wherever he was. Uncle Tyrion led her and her wolf to a room that was more elegant than the one she had on the ship. Like the rest of the castle, there were beautiful soaring dragons on the walls and ceiling but in the middle of the ceiling, there was a painting of a man with short pale hair and a beard his gaze hard and intimidating. By his side, two beautiful women; one feminine and the other wearing armor. Both of them with the same pale hair and violet eyes as the man. 

“Who’s that?” 

Tyrion followed her eyes, “Ah! That my sweet niece is Aegon the Conqueror and his sister-wives Visenya and Rhaenys”

“Conqueror?” she said full of wonder and curiosity.

“Yes, he is Aegon the Conqueror. Many Targaryens were named after him” Tyrion explained as he poured himself a cup of wine, “Many of them not as brave or sane as him though”

The painting was beautiful but her favorite part of the room was the window. She could see the dark ocean from here and smell the sea salt that was stronger than any pungent smell. Freyja was about to open the window when a knock on the door brought their attention. Uncle Tyrion opened the door to find a knight.

“Pardoned me Your Grace but your grandfather has asked to see you,” he said.

There was that look on her uncle’s face again and now Freyja knew that this meeting with her grandfather was not going to end very well. How she wished Bjorn was here to protect her. Even Ragnar. Suddenly the halls of Dragonstone were no longer welcoming and Freyja wished to be anywhere else but here. The whole way to her grandfather’s sickroom, they were quiet not making the situation any better. Finally, they reached two heavy double doors guarded by two more knights. Before they could go in, Tyrion turned to Freyja. 

“Be careful, sweet niece, Your Grandfather is not right in the head.” And the guards opened the door before she could even open her mouth. They were all waiting for them, Father, Stepmother, Uncle Jaime, and...grandfather. He was laying in a large bed with many pillows to keep him propped up, his pale white hair long and matted, lilac eyes sickly and frail or at least what she thought was frail. His nails were longer than hers and the room smelled heavily of illness. Her father motioned her forward. Even the air was uneasy. 

“Father,” King Father said gently, “Y/n is home. This is your granddaughter”

Aerys Targaryen’s eyes studied the girl, “Rhaella? Is that you?” Freyja looked at her father and he gave a dry chuckle. “No father, It’s Y/n. Your grandchild”. Her grandfather’s face molded into a bitter twist. “Come here, girl let me take a look at you”. Freyja gulped and inched her way closer to him. She gasped when he suddenly snatched her wrist gripping it tightly. Aerys’s pulled her closer until she could smell his foul breath. He didn’t say anything only his eyes wandering her face. Freyja’s heart pounded loudly against her chest. The more he stared the angrier he got. There was no illness in those eyes only madness and he was swimming in insanity.

“You smell like the Norse,” he said harshly, “You smell like your bitch mother”

“Father!” Rhaegar hissed and stepmother gasped, Freyja only stared at him dumbfounded. 

“You little wench! Your mother was the one to cause that Rebellion! You are exactly like her. You look like the dragon but you have the stench of a wolf!” Her grandfather roared startling Freyja and everyone else in the room. She then felt a sharp hot sting on her cheek and she fell to the floor from the harsh blow. Stepmother shrieked next she heard the wrestling of men and through watery eyes, Freyja watched her father fight his own. He called for the guards and immediately they busted in holding back the Mad King from hitting her more. Fear shook her entire body. 

“I’ll burn them all!” he screamed, his face red and eyes on fire. “I’ll burn them all starting with you!”

Freyja ignored Uncle Jaime’s strong arms and Stepmother’s desperate cries, she fled from that room as if fleeing from the wrath of Hel. She ran, ran all the way to her room slamming the door behind her. Freyja collapsed on to her bed sobbing inconsolably. No one in her life had hit her. Ever. Everyone had always treated her kindly, her home was full of love and laughter and here she didn’t have that. She missed her Bear, Kraka, Lagertha, Athelstan, her boys. Everyone! It wasn’t fair that these people had to take her away from her family! 

“Freyja? It’s us, Uncle Jaime and Uncle Tyrion, can we come in?” 

She didn’t wipe away her tears or respond. Freyja was far too heartbroken. Her uncles came in anyway. 

“I want to go home!” she wailed “I want my family! I miss my bear!”

Uncle Jaime sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her back. “Don’t cry, little Freyja. Your grandfather will not burn anyone” She sat up still sobbing. Jaime put her head against his chest, letting the tears run down his armor. 

“Hey, hey now,” Uncle Tyrion said, his voice soft and kind “Let’s get your mind of that, hm? Tell me about your family, about Bjorn and Ragnar”

“They would have killed that monster!”

Jaime shot his little brother a look and Tyrion’s eyes went wide. “Alright let’s not talk about that! Please, tell me about Bjorn. You talk about him a lot” Jaime took out a handkerchief and wiped away her tears.

“His name literally means bear,” Freyja said, she touched her necklace, “I call him bear because he is protective of me. A bit overprotective, really. He loves me a lot. I am like his daughter”

“Are you?”

“Yes, and he is like my father” Talking about Bjorn made tears swell in her eyes again. “I really, really, really want to go home. I miss my family”

Uncle Jaime got on one knee taking her hands in his, “I understand, little one but I cannot take you home. We don’t have that power”

“But we can speak to your father,” Uncle Tyrion said, “we can tell him how you feel. In the meantime, you have us to come to for anything else”

Freyja thanked them with all her heart. Stepmother came in after her face was back to its normal bright self and she was laughing at a funny story her Uncle Tyrion was telling. Her stepmother comforted and told her she loved her but her King Father did not come in to talk to her. It stung her. Such coldness from a man who had not seen her once, nonetheless this being the first time as a family. Her supper and dinner were brought to her room and she spent most of her time avoiding her father as much as he had been avoiding her. Freyja spent her time with the rest of her new family, She played with Little Rob, had tea with her stepmother, took a long walk on the shores with Uncle Tyrion and Uncle Jaime. Still, Freyja couldn’t help but have a tiny bit of hope that her King Father would speak to her. 

Thunder roared through the skies, dark clouds covered the blue sky and sun. Waves crashed against the cliffs dangerously. Every time lightning struck, Freyja was seen walking through the corridors of Dragonstone. The dragons on the walls and their statues looked more terrifying than they did during the day. Yet Freyja was not scared, she could hear her people’s music through the thunder. In between those flashes, she saw the familiar woods of home or at least she thought was home.

“How the little piglets' would grunt if they knew how the old boar suffered?” A voice boomed. He sounded familiar but Freyja couldn’t name the owner of the voice. 

A heavy door with the Targaryen sigil opened by itself, creaking. Freyja grabbed a torch from the wall and entered.

“It gladdens me to know that Odin prepares for a feast. Soon I shall be drinking ale from curved horns. This hero that comes into Valhalla does not lament his death!”

Freyja walked down the stone steps, the smell of humidity hung heavy through the air. Thor’s wrath pounding the sky. As she walked, the images of home came flashing back. Somewhere an eagle screeched. The sky was too cloudy for her to see where it was. Freyja followed several more flights of steps until she stumbled on a trap door. She almost missed it through the very dirty floor. Freyja struggled to open it and the door hit the floor with a loud clang. It was very dark down there, she grabbed the torch and squinted to see.

“I shall not enter Odin's hall with fear. There I shall wait for my sons to join me.”

Freyja finally found felt a wooden step and she went into the darkness, careful not to fall. Another image. This time she saw a cage hanging from a tree, sturdy enough to hold a man. Something dreadful will happen here. The closer she got to it the more afraid she was and the more her heart dropped.

“And when they do, I will bask in their tales of triumph. The Aesir will welcome me!”

When she reached the bottom, Freyja was shocked when she came face to face with rows and rows of eggs. All of them as large as a child's head and all of them came in different colors. Their shells scaley and weathered they almost looked to be made of stone. A thousand years old. Freyja put the torch where it could help her see and she picked up an egg, admiring it. Back home, crows circled above her cawing. She braced herself for what she was about to see. There, surrounded by serpents of all sizes, laid her Ragnar. Dead. In the dungeon, the dragon egg burned into glowed but it did not harm her, boiling until it cracked and a baby dragon with golden eyes screeched at her. With Ragnar, Freyja’s screams of terror and anguish turned to the roars of a dragon.

“My death comes without apology! And I welcome the valkyries to summon me home!”

Freyja lurched forward, cold sweat sticking to her skin and her heart pounding. Fenrir padded to his mistress sniffing her to see if she was alright. The princess stroked her wolf’s fur and she was stunned to see that the window was wide open. Thor pounding his hammer furiously.

@lettersofwrittencollective @mellxander1993 @faeeiiry @blonddnamedhandz @-thatgirloverthere- @wanderlustimagines @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction @colie87 @whatwhyc-c

[ellimomo]

The Descendants of Ice and Fire

Jon and Rhaella

More wolf than dragon Rhaella has always felt a deeper connection to the north and it’s icy weather much like her father. One in the same Rhaella has always had a stronger bond with her father than anyone else in her family. Even though Jon always denies it Rhaella is his favorite out of her siblings. Stubborn and proud Rhaella is every bit a northern both in looks and personality she is sometimes called the winter rose of King’s Landing’s. Rhaella hopes one day to have the same sense of honor like her father and rule over the seven kingdoms justly and fairly like her parents before her and make her father proud.

I am the daughter of the White Wolf and I fear no man or beast - Rhaella Targaryen. The Descendant of Ice and Fire Ch.2

Hey ya’ll! This a little side piece I wanted to post before I posted chapter two of my Jonerys fic “The Descendants of Ice and Fire” later on this week. I wanted to share a little back story on Jon and Rhaella so I hope you enjoyed it because I love writing about Jon and Rhaella’s relationship as father and daughter. I’ll be posting more on each of my characters later on so look out for those. If you haven't read please check it out.

 http://archiveofourown.org/works/11961255/chapters/27046869

[beforethesummer]

Mini Tag Dump

Just some character and musing tags!

[ao3feed-tywin]

A Shadowed Path

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2vowJsd

by lostchildofthenewworld

The original heads of the dragon shared the same mother and father, so too must these new heads.

Princess Elia Martell returns to Dorne after having her marriage annulled and being publicly repudiated by King Rhaegar the First of His Name in favor of his new wife, Queen Lyanna Stark.

Dorne is at the precipice with their anger, the amount of disrespect shown to not only their beloved Princess but also to Prince Lewyn Martell who was slain in battle, not for his niece but for folly.

It has always been said that Elia has a sweet wit about her, but her time as a hostage to the Mad King has taught her many things. For the past year she has learned to walk in the shadows of the Red Keep in order to stay the ire of the Mad King.

Returning to Dorne is not the sweet girl that left it.

Words: 2376, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 2 of The Sun & The Light

Fandoms: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, Multi

Characters: Elia Martell, Oberyn Martell, Doran Martell, Mellario of Norvos, Arianne Martell, Obara Sand, Nymeria Sand, Tyene Sand, Sarella Sand, Rhaenys Targaryen (Daughter of Elia), Rhaegar Targaryen, Lyanna Stark, Arthur Dayne, Tywin Lannister, Jaime Lannister, Jon Snow, Viserys Targaryen, Rhaella Targaryen, Daenerys Targaryen, Original Characters, Jade Han (OFC), Mehmed Han (OMC)

Relationships: Elia Martell/Original Male Character(s), Oberyn Martell/Original Female Character(s), Doran Martell/Mellario of Norvos, Rhaegar Targaryen/Lyanna Stark (minor), Rhaegar Targaryen/Elia Martell (past), Doran Martell & Elia Martell & Oberyn Martell

Additional Tags: Elia Martell Lives, POV Elia Martell, Queen Elia Martell, Oberyn Martell Lives, Elia Martell-centric, Rhaenys Targaryen Lives, Rhaenys will be renamed to Deria (I'll explain in ch 1 I cackled), Dark Magic, Swords, Politically savvy Elia Martell, Justice for Elia Martell, Justice for Dorne, Dorne centric, OC Male Inspired by history: Mehmed the Conqueror/Cesare Borgia/Jaluudin Akbar, Elia inspired by: Margaret Beaufort/Katherine of Aragon/Joanne of Arc, Essosi Empire, Mother Rhoyne, Elia will be a queen, Anti Rhaegar Targaryen, Rhaegar Targaryen Being an Asshole, anti lyanna stark, If you are fans of either of them leave now this is Dorne return at your peril, Great Moraq centric, Machiavellian characters, Elia Martell & Deria Sand (Deria Martell), Elia Martell & Jade Han (OFC), Jade Han (OFC) & Mehmed Han (OMC), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Robert's Rebellion, Alternate Universe - Rhaegar Won

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2vowJsd

[ellimomo]

The Descendants of Ice and Fire

The Twins 

Born in Winterfell shortly after the Great War Rhaella and Robb Targaryen were raised in the north for most of their childhood with their cousins. Gifted physically and intellectually Rhaella and Robb were taught by their father and aunt Arya in sword fighting and technique. While also being taught politics by their uncle Tyrion and aunt Sansa. Loved and cherished by their parents and family the twins was named after someone sufficient in their parents lives having much to live up to. Different in both looks and personality Rhaella grew up close to their father Jon while Robb grew close to their mother Daenerys but despite this they are each others closest friend. Protective like dragons and loyal like wolves to one another Rhaella and Robb have an unbreakable bond. Rhaella will marry her cousin Steffon Baratheon and be the queen of the seven kingdoms while Robb will rule over Dragonstone when each come of age.

“I have always been the white wolf’s daughter and you have always been the dragons son” - Rhaella Targaryen to Robb Targaryen. The Descendants of Ice and Fire Ch. 3

Another little character snippet I wanted to share with ya’ll! so I hope you enjoyed. I don’t know why but I just love writing about the baby targlings especially Rhaella and Robb they’re just so different and yet the same and I just love them. Chapter 3 of “The Descendants of Ice and Fire ill be up later next week so look out for an update. the next one will probably be about Rhaella and Steffon. Ps if you haven’t please go check out my other fic “Girls Just Want To Have Fun” it’s a Jonerys modern day au.

Here’s the link to Girls Just want To Have Fun: http://archiveofourown.org/works/10292819

Here’s the link to The Descendants of Ice and Fire: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11961255

[ellimomo]

The Descendants of Ice and Fire

Daenerys and Robb

A fierce swordsman like his father and an even fiercer temper like his mother Robb Targaryen is the dragon’s son. Known as the “Quiet dragon” Robb was named after the late Robb Stark but unlike his twin he didn’t inherit the Stark look. With silver blonde hair and violet eyes like his mother Robb grew up being close to his mother. Always composed and ready to protect his loved ones Robb is well respected among the other houses. The younger twin Robb will be the next lord of his ancient ancestral home of Dragonstone. Robb is closest to his twin Rhaella but will often ask his mother Daenerys for advice on ruling and dragon riding. Becoming an excellent dragon rider Robb is seen most of the time taking care of his dragon Redclaw and his direwolf Greywind.

“What was that saying mother use to tell us when we were young?…Oh yes “We are Targaryens and we answer to neither gods nor man” - Robb Targaryen. The Descendants of Ice and Fire Ch.3

I’m back! Gosh had a much needed break and now I’m back in full force and I’m ready to post some Jonerys content for ya’ll. So here’s a little side piece of my character Robb in my fic “The Descendants of Ice and Fire”. Hope you enjoyed this snippet. Chapter 3 should be up soon so look out for that. I can’t wait to share more with everyone.

Here’s the link to my fic:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11961255