#faith of the seven

[daenystheedreamer]

faith dashboard simulator

💙 maidenlover Follow

its actually so faithphobic that so called "friends of rhaena" have appropriated maiden devotion... it sexualises a very personal relationship with a real facet of the seven that many of us have ACTUALLY DEVOTED OUR LIVES TO

⚢ rhaelissatruther

girl you forgot to private your likes you're one of us

💎 mothermaidenhoe

🕯️traedwyfe Follow

🎶 red orange yellow green blue indigo purples in the sky

summer's in the air and baby, seven heavens' in your eyes 🎶

#the rainbow faith #rainbow not rhaena #laena of dell rae AKA the lady bard #dollaette #coqaette #faithofthesevenedit #please i'm a star #septa urge #lady manipulator #light acaedaemia

⚔️ knightofthefaith

FUCK they're sending me to be the septon of the night's watch... girl you know what they do to sexy slender wide eyed septons like myself!!!

#PRAYING theyre sexy murderers not uggo ones... manifesting

⭐️ brideofhugor Follow

No. You know what? F*** Y'ALL.

As many of you know I have recently been assigned to a certain castle in the stormlands and have been aiding the maester in reorganising the large library.

I just found several illuminated manuscript of an er*tic nature detailing s*xual acts of septas and septons. Including one of Hugor (blessed he be) Himself.

I don't expect much of you SINNERS (we all know of the recent poll circulating...) but sexualising those who devote themselves to loving only the gods... and crucially making the choice to remain celibate in this mission... the audacity. Enjoy the Seven Hells!

🫦 swordinyourstar

im gonna go to a septry fuck all those bald brothers so hard the hair in their tonsures grow back cos my seed is THAT strong

#why are they called holy brothers if im not supposed to fuck their holes

🔘 old-friends-senior-seven-septry-deactivated-101AC

I just want to get dicked down again =/

🌠 faith-struggle-posts

official faith struggle post

🌟 starrysepta

i do finally feel at home finally out of my noviciate and as a full septa of the faith but they do NAWT tell you how catty your sisters will be... they sent me to a motherhouse in the WESTERLANDS just outside of lannisport 💀 if another one of these fake bitches tries currying favour with house lannister im gonna get myself sent to the silent sisters.

🌟 starrysepta

beheading myself omg another suspiciously blonde-haired green-eyed hill surname haver has joined the noviciate please mother above get me reassigned to the vale id rather risk getting stolen by a mountain clansmen over having to deal with this whore

#girl he's not gonna legitimise you #and she's having an affair with the laybrother too but like whatever im not a lickspittle

🪽 rivermaiden

the mother of my motherhouse 100% got dicked by our local lord back in the day maybe now too and its ruining my life. she keeps speaking in metaphors about the warrior entering the maiden and its making everyone soooo uncomfortable. AND he's the lord of a certain castle in the riverlands stars with h ends in arrenhal and i swear he's bringing the fucking demons into our sept everytime he visits

#cryyyyingggg i survived the riverlands for one-and-twenty years only to die of blood curse cos knights love chasing septa pusswah omg cant have shit in the riverlands

🌈 septa-septon-suggestions Follow

forever hoping that the light of the seven will one day shine over all westeros ✨

🍁 hearttreehugger Follow

don't go near any weirwoods bitch im watching you 👁️

[ginny-anime]

People saw Visenya and maegor fight against the faith of the seven and assumed that the faith doesn’t exists within house Targaryen and that alicent having the faith as her religion is fucking horrible.

Alysanne literally sent her daughter Maegelle to become a septa as a thanks to the mother for giving her many children. her son Vaegon became an archmaester and studied at old town.

Aegon the conqueror was literally crowned by the high septon and so was Jahaerys I. Princess Daella didn’t marry Royce blackwood because he believed in the old gods instead of the faith of the seven.

So the faith of the seven isn’t just something alicent brought into the house Targaryen to go against them. By her time, most of them were already part of the faith and believed in it.

Also having her faith is not a bad thing! Just because she decorated the castle with the faith symbols doesn’t mean she was changing everything! The Targaryens symbols were still everywhere, which are dragons.

The dragons are the symbol of house Targaryen and the faith of the seven is everything to house Hightower. And Alicent is the current queen and a Hightower who has Targaryen children. So it’s not wrong to combine both symbols of the families.

[bbygirl-aemond]

so emily carey came on the official house of the dragon podcast and confirmed that she, miguel, and ryan all agreed that alicent gets her faith from her mother, that her mother was always the religious one, and that this faith is "something alicent carries because of this connection with her mother" and that's why we get the scenes depicting alicent's relationship with the faith. to remind us that this is a little girl who lost her mother and is spending the rest of her life having to deal with the empty space her mother left behind.

alicent brings rhaenyra to the sept to help with her grief from her mother because the sept is where alicent goes to remember her own mother:

alicent wears icons of the faith on her clothing:

and she brings those icons into her home in the red keep:

and she does all these things because she's bringing her mother's memory with her. because she is a scared girl navigating the misery of a forced marriage with no friends and no family aside from her manipulative father and she is trying to grasp for this maternal protection and compassion that is nowhere to be found.

[blissfulphilospher]

I saw a post of @very-straight-blog and I agree!

People need to know this!

According to the ANDAL LAW the succession should be like this in HOTD after Viserys I and this is what Greens wanted in the book

Aegon II — Jaehaerys (rip little prince) — Maelor the Missing — Jaehaera — Aemond — Daeron the Daring — Rhaenyra — Aegon III — Viserys II — Visenya (if she lived) — Helaena (in case everyone above her die) — Daemon — Baela — Rhaena — Rhaenys (if everyone with Targaryen surname die)

Not including Strong Boys because like it or not they are bastards and shouldn't be in line of inheritance. They could have been if Rhaenyra married Harwin. She didn't.

Also wanted to specify that ANDAL LAW is better than Valyrian and Northern. Only second to RHOYNISH LAW and Targs in this era hate Dorne. It's funny if they adapt their laws.

According to the Valyrian, Jaehaera, Rhaenyra and Helaena will come after Daemon and his sons. (I am saying this after reading the mess of Maegor's rule and Jaehaerys calling GC 1.)

And this is Alicent, House Hightower and majority of Westeros' religion.

She didn't sinned or betrayed anyone by having him crowned, her son has the right to the Iron Throne. His ascension should not have been a misunderstanding, he has the right to the throne and there is a reason history remembers him as the king.

[greenbloods]

whats funny to me is that demons canonically exist in westeros. we get vague references to demons from the seven hells, so they must be part of the theology of the Seven, but theyre not elaborated upon much. it also makes the name daemon much funnier like yeah thats the king (consort) demon targaryen yeah he rides a red scaly firebreathing horned beast from the doom ruins of a civilization consumed by fire and brimstone. no dont read too much into that

[cherryredlove]

☆ the eyes of the weirwood ☆

Alicent Hightower x Targareyen Septa! Reader

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

The childhood companion of the Princess turned Septa sits grieving by the weirwood tree. You seek out the love you have always denied and comfort her aching heart.

Word Count: 1.1k

Themes: angst, lesbian angst, just let my girl alicent be a wlw queen cmon, religious guilt, kinda OOC soz

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

The godswood is silent, save for the soft rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. The sun sets, casting a warm glow over the Red Keep and painting the sky in shades of crimson and gold. You walk through the ancient grove, your footsteps hushed on the moss-covered path. The old oak trees stand tall, their branches reaching out like welcoming arms. Your robes sweep the floor, and you heart thuds in your chest. 

In the midst of this serene setting, you find yourself drawn to a familiar figure seated on a stone bench beneath the weirwood tree. Her auburn hair glows like fire in the dimming light, and her shoulders tremble with silent sobs. Queen Alicent Hightower, once your childhood companion, now the widow of King Viserys, grieves alone. You are not unknown to this grief yourself. He was your father, despite only ever seeing Rhaenyra as a true Targaryen princess.

You stop for a moment, taking in the sight before you. The woman who once laughed with you under the very same tree now sits, silenced and wrought. The years have carved paths of worry and weariness upon her face, but to you, she remains the beautiful girl you once knew—a girl you secretly loved.

As you step closer, your heart pounds in your chest. Your decision to become a septa instead of marrying had not been an easy one. It severed any chance of relationship with your father and sister. You were too pious and meek for their dragon blood. It was a path that granted you freedom from the duties of court life, yet it had also been a means to escape the yearning you felt for Alicent—a love you dared not speak of, not even to yourself. You remembered the hot shame you felt when your sister teased you for wanting to dance with Alicent instead of handsome suitors as a younger maid.

"Alicent," you whisper softly, your voice barely breaking the solemn silence she sat in.

She looks up, her eyes red from crying, yet they soften upon seeing you. The weight of the crown seems to slip away, if only for a moment, and before you sits not just your Queen, but also your Alicent.

"(Y/N)," she breathes your name like a prayer, as though your presence alone could aid her stricken heart. "What are you doing here?"

"I know not, my feet took me here of their own accord," you reply, though your true purpose is far deeper. "But seeing you here... I couldn't leave you alone in your sorrow."

Alicent wipes her tears with the back of her hand, trying to compose herself. "It's foolish," she says, her voice cracking. "To weep like this. He was your father too."

"It's not foolish," you reassure her, taking a seat beside her. Your hand hesitates before resting on hers, and you feel the warmth of her skin—a touch you've longed for, yet denied yourself for so long. "Grief is the heart's way of speaking when words fail."

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, listening to the whispers of the trees. Your mind drifts back to those days of youth when you and Alicent would escape to this very spot, finding fun and companionship away from the prying eyes of the court. You would steal away with cakes stolen from banquet tables and regale each other with reenactments of legends of old. Back then, your feelings were a secret, even from yourself, masked as the innocence of friendship.

"I miss him," Alicent confesses, breaking the silence. "Viserys... he was a good man, even if our marriage was... complicated."

Your heart aches for her loss, but there's something deeper—an ache for what might have been if circumstances were different. You glance at her, taking in the sight of her gentle profile, the elegance that is Alicent, and suddenly, the words you've held back for so many years press against your lips. The blood of the dragon finally roars within you, urging you to be brave, be true.

"Alicent," you begin, your voice trembling with the weight of a thousand unsaid words. "There is something I must tell you... something I've kept hidden for far too long."

She turns to you, curiosity and concern mingling in her gaze. "What is it?" You believe she already knows. How could she not, when all you ever did was gaze longingly at her?

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you are about to reveal. "I've loved you, Alicent. I have always loved you, from the days of our youth until this very moment. From when you would declare yourself the Rhaenys to my Visenya, I have loved only you."

Your confession hangs in the air between you, the air heavy and thick. Alicent's eyes widen, and for a brief moment, you fear rejection. But then, something shifts in her expression—a softening, a recognition.

"(Y/N)," she murmurs, her hand squeezing yours gently. "I have longed for you as well. In the silence of my heart, I wished things could have been different." Her face is fraught. Fear of shame is etched into her, but yet she still holds your hand.

The relief that washes over you is mingled with a bittersweet realization of the paths you both chose. Duty, family, and honor had dictated your lives, pulling you away from each other. Yet, in this stolen moment beneath the weirwood's watchful eyes, those burdens seem to fade.

Your gaze locks with Alicent's, and without another word, you lean forward, capturing her lips with yours. The kiss is gentle, filled with the yearning of years unspoken. It is a taste of what could have been, a glimpse into a world where your love was not confined by duty and titles.

Alicent responds, her kiss tender and hesitant, as though afraid that acknowledging this love will unravel everything she has built, everything she has fought for. She has given her maidenhood and life for the crown. But within this fleeting moment, the world outside the godswood ceases to exist, leaving only the two of you and the unspoken bond you share. The kiss is not just a kiss. It is a promise, and the weirwood tree's eyes watch knowingly.

As you finally part, reality returns, bringing with it the weight of your choices. Alicent's eyes glisten with tears, and you know this moment, as perfect as it is, cannot last.

"I must return," she whispers, her voice laced with sorrow. "To my children, to the realm. There is no place for us in this world." That cuts you like a knife.

Your heart breaks at the truth of her words, yet you nod, understanding the burden she carries. As a septa, you have vowed to live a life of celibacy and devotion to the gods, but your heart will always bear the mark of this love. Your true devotion will lie with her.

"Know that you are not alone," you tell her, your voice steady despite the ache within. "I will always be here, by the weirwood, in your heart, should you need me."

Alicent nods, and though her eyes are filled with gratitude, they are also heavy with the loss of a love that can not be. She stands, and you watch as she walks away, her form retreating into the shadows of the evening.

As the night falls over King's Landing, you remain, like a statue, your heart tethered. In the quiet solitude of the ancient grove, you pray to the Mother and the Maiden not only for peace but for the strength to accept the path you both have chosen.

Yet, even as you bow your head in silent supplication, you know that your heart will always linger in the godswood, where the echoes of your love for Alicent remain eternal, like the whispered prayers carried on the wind. And so, you continue your vigil, hoping that one day, perhaps in another life, your paths may cross again without the chains of duty holding you back.

• • • • • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • • • •

AN: very sappy and ooc, very much inspired by Alicent and Rhaenyra’s scene in the sept. Alicent just can't catch a break lol

[ivansbadart]

Aemond the Kinslayer took up the iron and ruby crown of Aegon the Conqueror. "It looks better on me than it ever did on him," the prince proclaimed. Yet Aemond did not assume the style of King but named himself only Protector of the Realm and Prince Regent.

more upclose of his face, and details of his outfit, it's from the last panel of my Aegond Brutus piece (And amongst my faves!) I loved designing his cloak, it's a (quite literal) nod to when Rhaenyra tells Alicent "It felt good, didn't it? Hiding under the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you are", as this is him at his most morally bankrupt/corrupt, yet he's covered head to toe in the seven pointed star. Apple's rotten right to the core, from all the apples before and what not.

[darejani-artist]

✷ Young Septon Alicent ✷

Male Alicent Hightower commission

[goosebasedcryptid]

thinking about aeron and davos not worshipping the same gods probably means they won't go to the same heaven (-or hell-) and they know it soooo

them being so afraid that if they die, they won't even reunite in the afterlife and will never see each other again

kid aeron going to his septon and asking where the followers of the old gods go when they die and the septon either telling him they go to the lowest of the seven hells or that they have no afterlife at all and then crying himself to sleep afraid davos is doomed

davos hearing that the brackens felled a weirwood on their lands and praying with all his soul aeron had no part in it, not knowing aeron begged his lord to leave the heart tree untouched

during an argument aeron saying something like "i wish i could die now so i'd be rid of you" and that hitting davos so hard he replies with "well i'd be happy to help you meet your false gods" and then they both regret it instantly

them falling asleep together beneath a weirwood and both getting one of those crazy trippy dreams in which they see themselves dying at each other's hand and being dragged to their respective hells by their deceased family members, and waking up so disturbed they don't talk or see each other for like a month, too afraid they might actually cause the vision to happen

them at the burning mill, realising they could never be together after slaughtering each other's families and both begging the other to kill them out of guilt and despair but neither accepting and fighting to get to die first, arguing that it's their fault, only to die together

probably so many more things that drive them both apart from the sheer terror of making a wrong move that would separate them for eternity and also make them want to enjoy every second they have together because they know it's all they have

[greenqueenhightower]

Alicent finds solace in religion from an early age because:

she had a difficult childhood/upbringing

the death of her mother was traumatizing (and religion was probably important for her mother too)

she felt like a foreigner at King's Landing and this was a way for her to embrace her heritage and reconnect with her roots

she felt pride in the faith of the seven hailing from Oldtown the same way the Targaryens feel pride in the "blood of the dragon"

she yearned to be heard/understood by a higher power

she was looking for help and guidance in her life to deal with anxiety and her domineering father

she is haunted by the fatal flaw of self-loathing, as is evident from her skin-picking disorder

she uses religion as a way to escape reality: "you desire not to be free, but to make a window in the wall of your prison"

What a complex and compelling character for real <3

[justa-personn]

thinking about how young alicent went to the sept a lot and how aegon hides in a sept in episode nine and his “i want my mother” when they found him. no one can convince me that she wouldn’t bring him with her when he was too small to really go anywhere without her and she wanted to get away from everything

[tyriongirl]

A Feast for Crows, Appendix

A Storm of Swords, Samwell III

A Game of Thrones, Sansa I

A Storm of Swords, Arya IX

A Feast for Crows, Jaime IV

A Game of Thrones, Tyrion I

A Storm of Swords, Jaime VII

A Feast for Crows, Brienne VI

A Feast for Crows, Cersei IV

A Feast for Crows, Sansa I

A Feast for Crows, Brienne VI

A Feast for Crows, Brienne VI

Sandor Clegane + The Stranger imagery

[hotdwriter]

A prophecy- Chapter 1

Benjicot Blackwoodx ofc

A girl raised in the sept of dragonstone during the dance of the dragon is tortured by vivid dreams. Her ability is a great asset to the queen, to forsee the future. The house of Blackwood is somehow linked to her dreams, what could that possibly mean?

~4K words

(Can be used as a self insert, due to little to no description of the character)

A few men, with clothing representing their house sigils, were walking up to each other. She couldn´t make out their voices since her view wasn´t clear enough. Suddenly the men started fighting, and in the next second, she only saw dead bodies spread across the meadow and bloodied limbs in the river.

With the blink of an eye, the scenery was long gone, and instead, she now saw the sept in front of her. ´A vision´, she thought. Her breathing became irregular, and her hands began to shake uncontrollably.

An elderly woman dressed in a gray gown walked outside the sept and noticed the girl in front of her. "Vikenja!" The woman snapped her out of her dreamy trance. The girl met the septa and bowed slightly in acknowledgment. "Septa Margareth, I will be inside very soon."

The older woman looked at her with distrust in her eyes. "Always have a good grip on your necklace if you wish not to sin, Vikenja."

Septa Margareth continued to walk down the steps and left quickly afterward to teach the royal children. The girl turned her gaze to her own hands, which now held the pendant of the faith of the seven. A tear fell into her palm, wetting the charm. Since her early childhood, she has dreamed of visions that soon became true.

One would say she was insane; the septa called her stained due to sinful behavior. Vikenja, not being a believer in the faith of the seven, had often gotten into trouble for speaking her mind out loud, belittling the religion she practiced.

Septa Margareth was the only mother-like figure in her life since she was raised in the house of the seven. However, she never truly fit in due to her visions, which were treated as if they were the work of the devil.

Vikenja took a deep breath and stood up again, now entering the seventh. Her first task was to light the candles inside the dark hall. It was cold inside, and the hall looked the opposite of holy. As she began to light the different-sized candles, a new vision flashed before her eyes. It was the same as before, but the view was more clear now.

Vikenja was able to make out the different house sigils. She gasped as she realized the men in front were from House Blackwood, including Lord Samwell, one of the Queen's most loyal supporters. Their bloodied corpse was lying on the grass with an arrow sticking out of it.

In less than a second, the match fell out of her hand and onto the table, which, in return, was lit on fire. A surprised scream erupted in her throat as she quickly searched for a bucket to fill with water and extinguish the fire with it. While smearing the sweat off of her forehead and straightening her hood, she let out a deep breath.

´ I must let Her Grace know of this´, she gasped.

But would the queen even believe the girl? Vikenja hesitated; her gaze was glued to the puddle of water, with multiple drops falling to the marble floor. The Septa might have ignored her ´unholy´ dreams, but the queen could have a different view on this, a ´non-religious´ one.Vikenja quickly ran out of the house and went on her way to the castle.

Thanks to Dragonstone being a small island, the route didn´t take too long. As she arrived at the gates of the castle, a knight noticed the girl's attire and greeted her. "Please bring me to the queen; I have urgent news for Her Grace."

He bowed in return and opened the gates. His footsteps were heavy and fast, echoing through the entire hallway. Vikenja was quick on her heels to follow, and the knight soon stopped in front of a tall door and opened it, announcing Vikenja's presence.

The girl bowed in front of her queen and watched the knight close the door behind him. The queen was in her chambers, sitting in silence as she grieved the death of her son. The atmosphere was thick and overwhelming with sadness.

As the queen turned around to see the girl standing at the door, she quickly stood up and flattened out the folds on her dress.

"Septa Vikenja, might I ask what news you wish to announce?" The girl took a quick breath and corrected her. "I am not a septa yet, your grace. I am still in training," she began. Rhaenyra nodded in acknowledgment, though the confusion was still visible on her face. "Your Grace, it lies in Your judgment to decide what You wish to do with the information, but..."

Vikenja thought about how to tell Her Grace about her dream. "I am afraid that House Blackwood and House Bracken will soon have a battle at the Burning Mill where the men of House Blackwood will fall, including Lord Samwell. I saw it in a vision, Your Grace."

Vikenja's eyes were glossy and droopy. The queen hesitated, unsure how to answer. Her brows furrowed as she looked outside the window and watched the beach. "Do you often have such kinds of visions?"

"I was born with the torment of seeing the future, like some sort of warning, I suppose." Her voice quietened at the end of her sentence.

Rhaenyra looked at her with a certain amount of understanding held in her gaze and took a step forward. "May I?" she asked and proceeded to take off Vikenjas Hood. As the queen saw her silver hair, she raised her head. Her theory was correct; the girl was a true dragon dreamer, just like Rhaenyra's own father. "You´re a dragon seed; it is in your blood to see dreams as vivid as if they were reality."

Vikenja looked at her with a questioning gaze. "Dragonseed? I am afraid I am not able to follow, Your Grace." She wasn´t aware of her parentage, since she was raised in a house where last names did not exist.

"I suppose you do not know about your true parents; it does not matter now, but you are a descendant of House Targaryen. In our lineage, some have been born with the ability to foresee the future." The queen now held Vikenja by her shoulders in a comforting manner.

"It is a burden and a blessing at once."

Rhaenyra sat on the couch and motioned for Vikenja to do the same. The girl slowly made her way to the red furniture and let herself fall on the comforter. "I must thank you for trusting me with this personal information, though I must admit my confusion. A dragon's dream is mostly linked to one's future; it must mean that you are somehow linked to the battle of the burning mill."

Feeling the anxiety rise in her body, Vikenja began to pick at her short fingernails, and her lip began to quiver. Her being linked to such a grotesque event was troubling her mind. How could she possibly have anything to do with the murder of hundreds of men? "I do not understand, Your Grace."

Noticing the self-harm, Rhaenyra quickly took the girl's hand in her own and carefully caressed it. She then took a strand of Vikenja's hair and tucked it behind her ear, caressing her head in a motherly way. Rhaenyra knew the girl lacked a mother figure in her life, and she felt herself magically drawn to comfort the child; somehow she saw her son Lucery in the girl.

"I am afraid I cannot give you an explanation behind the meaning of it." Vikenja slowly leaned into the queen's touch, letting her own guard down. "Tell me, dear child, how old are you?"

"My fourteenth name day was three moons ago, Your Grace."

Rhaenyra looked down at their interwoven hands and sighed softly. "Tell me, Vikenja. Do you wish to live the rest of your life in September?" The unexpected question made Vikenja overthink her current situation. The religion that was forced upon her made her feel imprisoned, but she never thought about anything else.

It was always very clear to her that she´d become a Septa and practice the faith of the seven until she would grow too old to see another day in this world. "I suppose I didn´t give it much thought, but I don´t have much of a choice," she said, turning her head to the other side so that the queen wouldn´t see the tear falling down her face.

"You could live here in the castle, grow up, and learn more about your ancestry." Vikenja's eyes widened at the offer. Why would the queen do such a thing? "I have nothing to offer in return, Your Grace."

Rhaenyra averted her gaze down to her feet as she let go of Vikenja's hand. She then stood up and paced around the room, Vikenja's eyes watching her the entire time.

"We are currently at war. I need everyone's help, especially if they can foresee the future. Besides, you have the dragon's blood flowing through your veins, and there are untamed dragons on this island."

Rhaenyra truly felt bad; she knew her offer would give her a worse fate than living the rest of her life in a boring Sept. It was selfish of her to involve a girl in the war, but Rhaenyra was desperate.

The queen stopped in the middle of the room to await the girl's answer. "Are you sure, Your Grace?" Sincerity was written across the queen's face as she took Vikenja's hands again. She pulled the girl from the comforter and took her into an embrace. "Your presence would be appreciated greatly."

The girl nodded slowly as she pulled out of the embrace. A physical touch from the queen herself made her feel conflicted. It felt like a mother's embrace, which made Vikenja slightly uncomfortable.

"Do not fret; I will announce it myself to the Septa Margareth. You might go to your new chamber; Ser Lares will show it to you." Rhaenyra opened the door and whispered something to the knight standing behind the walls of the queen's chamber. He nodded in return and bowed in front of Vikenja, motioning for her to follow in his footsteps once again.

"Your Grace," she said, lowering her head and leaving the Queen Chambers. She walked through the castle's hallway at a quick pace. The walls were thick, the stone was of a dark color, and the surface of the floor was marbled, similar to the sept. Vikenja was able to see her reflection on the marble. She had a troubled expression, and her eyebags turned a light purple. Her new life would be dangerous from now on; it was even expected of her to bond with a beast, which even the bravest of men were afraid of.

The girl almost stumbled into the knight when he halted in front of a dark brown door. "Your chambers, Lady Vikenja."

Her brows furrowed at the newly given title. She bid him goodbye as she entered her new chamber. To the right was a tall window, showing the scenery of the cold sea. In the middle was a queen-sized bed with golden charms carved into the bedframe. She stood on a black carpet; she presumed it was from sheep.

Next to the bed was a nightstand, graced with candles, and a bathtub next to a closet. The room radiated a certain amount of warmth and comfort that she wasn´t familiar with. Everything looked so expensive and luxurious; she never would have thought she´d see the privilege of living with royalty. Vikenja walked up to the bed and caressed the soft material of the bedsheet.

She closed her eyes in delight at the newfound softness. A knock came from outside the door, and a maid entered with a gown that was black and red. The maid was a young girl herself, not older than seventeen.

"Lady Vikenja, the queen requested for me to give you a bath and dress you in the gown I´ve brought." She nodded and walked towards the maid, asking for her name. "Belise, my lady."

"I can take a bath alone; please leave the gown on the bed." The maid nodded and filled the bath with water before putting the dress on the bed and closing the doors behind her.

Vikenja exhaled deeply as she took off her gray gown, stepping into the warm water. She took off the religious pendant hanging around her neck, throwing it on the ground with enough force to see its break.

She then closed her eyes as she sat down. The candles in front of her flickered while she let her thoughts run freely. This would be her new life now, being washed in the freshest of water and clothed in the silkiest gowns in the entire realm. It all felt surreal for her, like it was all a dream she was having.

Her dreams all held a warning, so she was told. Was this also one?

-----

Rhaenyra walked into the library, where she found the septa Margareth teaching embroidery to the princesses Rhaena and Baela. Both of the girls shared the same bored expression. It seemed like they did not care at all for such things, especially when they could be training outside instead.

"Septa Margareth, a word, please" the queen said, shifting her weight on one foot and playing with her golden ring. "Your Grace," the two girls mumbled before leaving the hall, leaving the two women alone. The Septa stood up from her stool and bowed in front of the queen. "Your Grace, is something troubling you?"

Rhaenyra cleared her throat before answering, "The Lady Vikenja will not continue her training." Instead, she will be staying here in the castle." She gave the Septa a short explanation, refusing to give her any more clues.

The Septa opened her mouth to reply, shocked to hear such a thing. Rhaenyra interrupted her, not giving her the chance to ask more questions. "I will not repeat myself Vikenja will stay here from now on. Tell the princesses their class is finished for today."

Rhaenyra didn´t wait for an answer and quickly spun on her heel to leave the library. She was aware of the weight of her actions. She may have caused the future death of a child, but she had to do it, didn´t she? Or was it Daemon entering her head and influencing her judgment?

Speaking of which, he still has not returned, and she has ceased to care for him. Rhaenyra selfishly projected her dead son onto the girl, easing her grief by mothering Vikenja.

--------

The feeling of comfort suddenly left Vikenja's body, as she was now aware of her newfound duty. Vikenja quickly washed her hair with the oils that had been put to the side and readied herself to meet the queen again.

As soon as she opened the doors, Ser Lares turned to her and stepped aside. "The queen has requested your presence in the grand hall." Vikenja gave him a quick nod and walked beside him.

The doors were opened by a different knight as Ser Lares led her inside. In the middle were multiple people gathered around a long table, which was a map of Westeros. The queen stood at the front, next to a boy a bit older than Vikenja, as she met the girl's gaze, her eyes lightening up at the dress the girl wore.

"Lady Vikenja Waters, please accompany me." She smiled softly, but her voice held a firm tone of authority. The Lords who stood beside her looked at her with curious eyes. As her eyes wandered through the different people, she noticed a man who looked familiar. His clothes were of the same color as her gown, though his sigil was the one of Blackwood. Vikenja met his gaze, and then she realized it was Lord Samwell.

The dead man in her vision Her eyes widened, and she quickly looked at the queen, who slightly nodded and took her hand in her own.

"Is the bastard a dragon seed?" Lord Staunton spoke freely without mincing his words. The girl felt under pressure as she felt her anxiety rise once again.

"As you can see, Lady Vikenja is of Targaryen descent; she bears the blood of the dragon." She lives here in the castle and will soon claim a dragon, so we will have more dragonriders on our side."The brunette next to Rhaenyra watched Vikenja with distrust in his eyes, similar to the Septa Margareth. He didn´t know Vikenja's true intentions.

Vikenja glanced at her silver hair while listening to the queen's words. She was never aware of the fact that her hair color held significance—not even the blood that ran through her veins. Lord Samwell glanced at the girl's face, and his gaze wandered down to her body. "How old is the lady?"

"Fourteen, my lord," she answered loudly enough for him to hear. He nodded quickly and seemed to be in thought afterward. The queen returned to the political discussion they held before Vikenja's arrival. While trying to pick up any of the information the conversation withheld, she understood little to nothing.

After the meeting was over and the Lords left, Rhaenyra shifted her attention to the girl next to her. "Do you wish to visit the dragonmont with me?" she asked, giving her a small smile.

Vikenja nodded, unsure whether to say something or to keep quiet. "You will learn everything about political arrangements when the time comes, dear child." She caressed the girl's shoulder as she led her to her own dragon.

The girl gasped as they got near it, never having seen a dragon up close. She wasn´t as scared as she thought she´d be, but instead was in awe.

"Her name is Syrax." Rhaenyra walked up to the dragon and petted its head. Vikenja giggled as she watched the dragon lean into its owner's touch. Rhaenyra guided Vikenjas Hand to pet the she-dragon. The scales under her palm were a weird sensation for the girl.

Rhaenyra felt a tear slip from her eye as she watched the girl caress the dragon. The girl's nervousness and naivety reminded her a lot of Lucery. It might have been the reason she offered housing to the strange girl.

"You will need to know commands before claiming your dragon. The words Dohaeris mean to obey, Lykiri means calm, Soves means to fly, and Dracarys means dragon fire. You will need to know how to calm the dragon beforehand, so it won´t be alarmed by your presence."

Vikenja nodded, processing the new information. "The dragons are somewhere up on the dragonmount. There are three of them in total, the gray ghost, the cannibal, and the sheepstealer. The cannibal is rumored to be a dragon with black scales, while the gray ghost shares the same color as its name, and the sheepstealer has a brown color to its scales."

Rhaenyra refrained from explaining the dragon's names to Vikenja, not wanting to fear the girl.

Rhaenyra proceeded to point up to the volcano in front of them. Next to it was the narrow sea. "Be careful."

Vikenja nodded and bid her goodbye, walking towards the sea. The air was fresh and smelled salty, and the water was a beautiful light blue. By taking her shoes off, she could go into the cold sea, her dress getting drenched while bathing her feet.

As she looked up into the sky, she noticed a white figure pacing through the clouds that hid the sun. ´It must be the Grey Ghost´, she thought. His scales were pale gray-white, and his build was slender, which made it hard for her to see him. Vikenja slowly made her way out of the water, drying her feet with her gown before putting on her boots again. She hummed a soft melody in the hope of awakening the dragon's curiosity.

She then began to walk around the sea, still humming the melody that she was familiar with. It was the same melody that she always hummed to fall asleep due to her fear of sleeping alone. It always calmed her nerves when she was left alone.

Minutes, eventually an hour, had passed, and she was still humming the melody. Vikenja was going to stop, but then she saw the same figure in the clouds again. She quickly began to realize that the dragon was encircling her, flying to the music she was producing. Vikenja held out a hand as she hummed more loudly now.

The dragon landed on the volcano and screeched at her. "Lykiri, Grey Ghost," she said as she put a hand in his direction. She began to walk up towards the dragon, trying her best to be slow and calm. "Lykiri," she repeated, but now in a firm tone. The dragon lowered its head as it awaited Vikenja. She continued to hum the song while taking the last step towards the dragon, and then she waited for the dragon to lean its head into her palm while whispering Lykiri the entire time.

The shy dragon slowly leaned into her touch as he listened to her commands. "Dohaeris, Grey Ghost!" she exclaimed while walking to the dragon's body, climbing it slowly. As soon as she sat on top, she regretted her decision to not have a saddle.

But she knew this was her chance to bond with the dragon, so she commanded him to fly.

"Dohaeris, Soves, Grey Ghost!" she exclaimed, the anxiety raising in her voice. The dragon stood up and began to walk before quickly taking to the sky. Vikenja had to grip his horns so she wouldn´t fall. She screamed as the air whipped her face, closing her eyes.

When she noticed that the dragon's movements were more smooth, she opened her eyes again to see the scenery before her. She held one hand out to graze through the clouds. It was a calming experience, it was nothing like she expected it to be. Due to the bond between Vikenja and her dragon, she was able to feel his emotions the other way around. Their personalities were similar in a way, both have always been alone.

Vikenja smiled as she petted his back. Both of them continued to fly for a few more hours until it was time for supper. Her dragon landed on the beach, in front of her chambers. She quickly dismounted him and sent him back to fly away, before alarming the guards of her presence.

Four dragonkeepers were soon sent, carrying a saddle for the dragon. When Vikenja called her dragon, she had to calm him the entire time, so that the men could do their work. She felt her anxiety rise due to feeling the dragon's stress.

She softly hummed the same melody as before, until the dragon keepers were finished and Grey Ghost could fly back into the sky and away from the castle.

Vikenja felt proud of herself for the first time in her life. She felt as if she had accomplished something that would change her life forever. With a dragon on her side, she was now a force to be reckoned with.

The girl soon went into the castle to meet with the queen and tell her about her accomplishments. The queen welcomed her with an embrace, which Vikenja awkwardly accepted. Rhaenyra kissed the top of her head and told her how proud she was of her. The more time Rhaenyra spent in the girl's presence, the more she didn´t want to let go of her. She couldn´t make the same mistake twice, could she?

[tell-them-the-north-remembers]

Targ stans who go on and on about "The blood of Old Valyria" and "filthy Andal blood and traditions" always manage to baffle me when they start talking about religion in Westeros.

Like, High Valyrians with their Valyrian Gods partaked in human sacrifice, human experiments, unimaginable types of torture, slavery, eugenics, all types of familial incest and were basically fantasy nazis in their society built upon the enslavement and forced hard labor of the races they saw as "lesser" but clearly, the evilest religion is the one where people pray to the humanoid aspects of their God and read their bejeweled little book.

[goodqueenaly]

One aspect of Baelor’s reign that I find fascinating, especially when considering Baelor’s view on his own kingship, is the king’ decision (twice over) to name a new High Septon himself. As Yandel relates, “[w]hen the High Septon died, Baelor informed the Most Devout that the gods had revealed the identity of the future High Septon to him” - that is, “a common man named Pate … a gifted worker in stone, but without letters, simple-minded, and unable to recall even a simple prayer”. When Pate-turned-High-Septon died of fever after a year, Baelor then “bec[a]me convinced that the gods had given an eight-year-old boy—a street urchin, some later claimed, but more likely a draper’s son—the power to perform miracles”; Baelor declared the boy “the next High Septon” on the grounds that he, Baelor, had seen “the boy speaking with doves that answered him in the voice of men and women”, which Baelor interpreted as the “voices of the Seven”. 

Of course, Targaryen intervention in High Septon elections was not an entirely new phenomenon by Baelor’s reign. When the High Septon died in 54 AC, Jaehaerys and Alysanne flew to Oldtown quietly determined to oversee, and indeed influence, the election of his successor. Archmaester Goodwyn ruefully noted later that when Jaehaerys proclaimed his and his queen’s intent to stay through the High Septon’s election “so we might ask for his blessing”, the septons of Oldtown “looked at one another and thought on dragons” - an unsubtle reminder that the mere presence of dragons in the city threatened violence should the Targaryens not get their way. Nor was Jaehaerys content to sit on the sidelines during this contest: in long secret conversations with Lord Donnel Hightower, the Targaryen and Hightower patriarchs agreed that the pro-Exceptionalism Septon Alfyn would be elected immediately, with a Hightower candidate to follow him eventually. 

Yet this anecdote differs importantly in character from Baelor’s actions during his reign. Jaehaerys’ interest in Alfyn rested not on the latter’s personal identity but rather on his adherence to Exceptionalism: before Jaehaerys and Lord Hightower settled on Alfyn as the preferred choice, Gyldayn noted that “King Jaehaerys did not care which house His High Holiness derived from, or whether he was of low or noble birth”, only that “the new High Septon be an Exceptionalist”. Too, the election of Alfyn as High Septon demonstrated at least the semblance of democratic process, whatever else actually occurred during such process. Gyldayn relates that the Most Devout conducted four ballots, initially favoring Mattheus but eventually settling on Alfyn; if Barth “rued the corruption that made the Most Devout so easy to manipulate” (thanks to the royal and Hightower agents among them), the choice was still, at least on face, in the hands of the Most Devout themselves. 

By contrast, what Baelor did with respect to these two High Septons was to replace, almost entirely, even the appearance of an independent election for the sake of a revelation he himself had allegedly uniquely received. In taking real elective power away from the Most Devout and replacing it with a mere right to ratify, Baelor arrogated to himself an unprecedented ecclesiastical role - indeed, one which partially usurped the role of the High Septon himself. In the view of the Faith of the Seven, the High Septon is “the Voice of the Seven on Earth”, the very avatar of the gods; so seriously is this aspect of High Septon’s office taken that Cersei can be charged with deicide for having had the last High Septon assassinated. In blithely informing the Most Devout that the gods had revealed the identity of two successive High Septons, however, Baelor had implicitly identified himself as the Voice of the Seven. He, Baelor, was the speaker for the gods, the sole receiver of their messages and the sole representative to transmit them. If this was not quite a Westerosi version of the divine right of kings, this was Baelor perhaps approaching a similar concept - portraying himself as even more literally divinely appointed than he might have seemed previously, above the rest of the Faithful thanks to his singularly blessed relationship with the gods. 

Moreover, the individuals chosen by Baelor were not simply unexpected; Pate and the unnamed boy were radically, indeed perhaps disturbingly unorthodox choices for the role of High Septon.  Far from these two people being members of the Most Devout - a tradition, if not a requirement, for the office of the High Septon - Pate and the draper’s son were not septons at all, nor even seemingly affiliated with the Faith in any formal way; if the two of them were members of the Faithful, it was likely only thanks to the religious omnipresence of the Faith in continental, non-northern Westeros. Baelor was raising to the highest office within the Faith commoners he had, quite bluntly, plucked off the street, with no more credentials than the divine appointment for each Baelor insisted had come from above. Whatever the wide-ranging, complex responsibilities of the High Septon within the Faith (and GRRM has been frustratingly vague on that score, admittedly), those were now in the hands of an illiterate, simple mason and a barely adolescent boy - and, of course, whatever each one decided would need to be obeyed by those same Most Devout now commanded to ratify the allegedly celestial decisions conveyed by Baelor. Instead of having one of their own lead the Faith, in other words, the Most Devout would be at the mercy of individuals with virtually no experience of the Faith at all, much less its highest circles of governance - an intriguing possibility for discomfort, even division, between the Most Devout and a king who might have seemed their strongest champion. 

What I think is so important to take away from this portion of Baelor’s reign is how these decisions speak to what I see as Baelor’s supreme confidence in his own regal authority. This was not a king content with merely handing over authority to the Faith and spending his days in prayer; pious and zealous as he undoubtedly was, Baelor was nevertheless a man with a clear idea of the mission he had been ordained, so I think he believed, to accomplish. Everyone - whether the humblest of his subjects or the proudest of his lords, not spearing even the Most Devout - had to obey his will, no matter how much that will might defy tradition. Whether or not any individual reader views Baelor in an overall positive or negative light, I don’t think Baelor can be called a weak king in the vein of, say, an Aenys or an Aerys I; sure in his own executive power, Baelor was seemingly not afraid to challenge even the expectations of the highest-ranking clergy for the religion he so zealously believed in and wanted to advance throughout his realm. He, I think Baelor believed, was king by the will of the gods, and responsible only to the gods; he could, and would, order the realm the gods had given him in accordance with what he believed the Seven desired.

[mothers-mercy]

She knelt before the Mother. “My lady, look down on this battle with a mother’s eyes. They are all sons, every one. Spare them if you can, and spare my own sons as well. Watch over Robb and Bran and Rickon. Would that I were with them.”

Catelyn IV, ACOK