#jaecerys

[slavicdelight]

The High Tower and the Dragon's Heir

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x male!Targ!reader

Summary: Lady Alicent Hightower was the closest friend of Princess Rhaenyra, yet she couldn't help but fall for her older brother, Y/N.

Warnings: none, following canon divergence

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Alicent Hightower gracefully strolled the corridors of the illustrious Red Keep, her morning lessons with her inseparable companion, Princess Rhaenyra, having just concluded. The echoes of footsteps accompanied her every stride as she made her way towards the luncheon appointment with her father, Ser Otto Hightower, the King's Hand. The castle bursted with vibrant activity—servants hurriedly carried out their duties, knights stood in vigilant postures, and nobles engaged in animated conversations, exchanging the latest court gossip.

As she ascended a majestic staircase, the voice of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Westerling, reached her ears. With a soft smile, Alicent reciprocated the courteous greeting. The anticipation of her father's chambers lingered in the air as she approached, each step echoing with the weight of her familial responsibilities.

However, the routine of her morning took an unexpected turn when, just before she reached the sanctum of her father, a sudden force collided with her, threatening to send her sprawling. A gasp escaped her lips, but before the cold stone floor could meet her, strong and reassuring hands prevented her from falling. These hands belonged to none other than Y/N Targaryen, the eldest son of the reigning monarch, King Viserys.

In that fleeting moment of unexpected encounter, the bustling ambiance of the Red Keep faded into the background. Alicent found herself lost in his gaze. The air crackled with an unspoken tension, and as Y/N steadied her with an effortless strength, Alicent's heart quickened, realizing that even in the most predictable corridors, destiny had an uncanny way of intertwining lives in an unexpected matter.

"Oh my, Lady Alicent. I'm so sorry; I didn't notice you," the young Prince expressed with a charming smile, nearly as enchanting as the prince himself. His gaze held a hypnotic quality that left Alicent momentarily flustered. Deep down, she possessed an immense fondness for him, but the fear of rejection and the potential repercussions from his younger sister stopped her from ever expressing them.

"No, my Prince. It was I who should've been more careful," Alicent nervously replied, her voice betraying a subtle hint of admiration. The unspoken tension between them lingered in the air. Her father's disapproval of the prince added a layer of complexity to the situation. Otto Hightower believed him to be the same as his uncle, Prince Daemon, hence the mutual hostility.

"Were you heading to your father, perhaps?" the prince inquired, his curiosity evident. Alicent hesitated, aware of the strained relationship between her father, Ser Otto Hightower, and the prince. Otto's opinions about Y/N's fitness for becoming king often clashed with the prince's aspirations.

"Yes, my prince," Alicent replied cautiously, choosing her words with care. The prince graciously took a step back, allowing her to continue her journey towards her father's chambers.

"Then do not let me stop you," he said with a small, understanding smile, his gaze lingering for a moment before gracefully descending the stairs, resuming his own path through the corridors of the Red Keep. That brief encounter, had left Lady Alicent soft in her knees.

Entering the Hand's chambers, Alicent immediately noticed her father seated at the table, a large variety of dishes laid out. She greeted him respectfully and took her place on the opposite side. "Alicent," he acknowledged with a nod, his eyes shining with a mix of sternness and affection. "How was your morning?" he inquired, motioning her to being eating.

"It was fine. I studied with the Princess the whole morning after breaking fast with her and Queen Aemma," Alicent replied, offering a light summary of her activities. The mention of encountering Prince Y/N on her way to her father's chambers prompted a subtle change in his demeanor. His brow lifted, and a stern look accompanied his response. "Prince Y/N is not a good influence. I advise you to avoid him," he coldly said, his voice carrying a weight of disapproval as Alicent cast her gaze downward. "Very well, father," she agreed, and the remainder of their lunch unfolded in a heavy silence.

As Alicent's thoughts drifted back to the violet-eyed prince, she couldn't comprehend her father's disdain for him. In her eyes, he was gallant and the epitome of a perfect prince. The unspoken tension between father and daughter lingered, leaving Alicent with a sense of conflict between her loyalty to her father and a growing curiosity about Y/N.

A fortnight later, the joyous occasion of a tournament took place in order to celebrate the King's anticipated new heir gripped the Red Keep. Nobles from far and wide were invited, marking the event as a grand affair. Queen Aemma, began her labours early in the morning, enduring the suffering alone, as King Viserys presided over the jousting festivities. Prince Daemon, displaying exceptional skills, unseated Alicent's brother Gwayne from his horse.

Victorious, the Prince then diverted his attention towards the stands where Alicent sat. With a charming smile, he asked for her favor, stating, "Lady Alicent, I'm sure your favor would ensure my victory today." Casting a fleeting glance at her father, Alicent handed Daemon her favor. Unbeknownst to her, a certain prince of the crown observed the exchange with a glare and a clenched jaw.

The joy of the tournament swiftly gave way to a somber hush when a messenger arrived bearing the tragic news of Queen Aemma's death. The atmosphere within the Red Keep became grim, mournful mood reigned for weeks. The funeral, held on a distant hill, marked a solemn occasion where the lifeless forms of the Queen and the young Prince lay upon the pyre, awaiting the embrace of dragonfire from Syrax and Shadowspine, the loyal companions of the Queen's surviving children.

Following the ceremony, Alicent found herself once again in her father's chambers, the weight of grief hanging heavily in the air. "How is Rhaenyra?" her father inquired, slight concern etched across his face. Alicent, her fingers idly picking at her fingers, replied, "She just lost her mother." The sorrow that lingered in her words mirrored the collective grief that shrouded the entire Keep.

Not being one to hide his ambitions, her father suggested, "Perhaps you would like to offer the King some comfort. Losing a wife is a terrible thing. He would surely rejoice in a visit." Alicent reluctantly agreed to undertake this solemn task, driven by her desire to please her father. As she turned to leave, she overheard her father's additional instruction, his voice low and laden with subtle implication—indicating that she should dress herself in one of her late mother's gowns.

Rather than heading to the King's chambers as initially intended, Alicent found herself standing before the doors that guarded Prince Y/N's residence. A guard announced her presence, and she entered, greeted by a scene of disarray. The room resembled the aftermath of a storm—furniture upended, decorations scattered in chaotic way. Amidst the disorder, she discovered her prince, seated on the floor, his back against the bed stand, his once-silky hair now tangled, and his eyes holding a haunted look. The scent of alcohol lingered in the air.

Taking a seat beside the prince, Alicent met his gaze, prompting him to question her presence with a strained voice, revealing the results of earlier screams. "I came here to see how you're holding up, my Prince," she replied calmly, her eyes scanning the wreckage around them. He only scoffed in response.

Drawing on her own experiences, Alicent shared, "When my own mother died, people looked at me with pity. I didn't want it. All I wanted was to hear they were sorry." Her empathetic words hung in the air, and she continued, "I'm so sorry for your loss, my Prince," concluding her condolences with a soft look, her eyes reflecting genuine compassion. Y/N stared at her in silence, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, as he began to unveil the weight of his heartache.

"My father's quest for a second son is to blame for this tragedy. He never considered me worthy of the throne," he confessed, his voice full of bitterness and sorrow. "He wished for another son, a better son. One he could put on the throne after himself. I was never enough. Rhaenyra wasn't enough. He killed my mother for a new heir. And now, my brother is also dead," he uttered.

Alicent's heart ached for him, the immensity of his suffering echoing through the confessions. Despite already bearing the responsibilities of being the Heir, this added layer of tragedy made the burden almost unbearable. In her earnest attempt to offer solace, she stood by both Y/N and Princess Rhaenyra, a pillar of support during these dark times.

As Y/N was officially declared Heir before the realm, Alicent stood steadfastly by his side, witnessing the unfolding of destiny. She remained present during the uncomfortable prospect of their father's remarriage, understanding the siblings hesitation. The more time they spent together, the threads of friendship between Alicent and Y/N began to intertwine with the delicate threads of love.

When the time came for the Prince to choose a wife, he declared his intent to marry Lady Alicent, much to Rhaenyra's dismay. While Viserys rejoiced in the prospect, Otto, though reluctantly, agreed to the union. Though not a fervent supporter of the Prince, Otto recognized the strategic significance—marrying his daughter to the future king ensured the placement of his bloodline on the throne.

The union of Alicent and Y/N was immortalized in what became known as the White Wedding. It was a testament to the pure and evident love that bound the newlyweds. The ceremony resonated with the harmonious union of two souls, their vows exchanged amidst the sacred walls of the Sept.

Shorty after their nuptials, the arrival of Aegon Targaryen marked a new chapter in the royal family. The beautiful boy, with the coloring of his father and the distinctive facial structure of his mother, embodied the perfect mix of the royal couple. Aegon, the newest Prince, became a living testament to the love that flourished within the Targaryen lineage.

As Alicent carried the weight of their second child, King Viserys sought to hold a celebratory hunt on his grandson Aegon's second name day. The relationships within the Targaryen family began to mend, albeit slowly, and the noticeable favoritism towards Rhaenyra, perhaps due to her resemblance to her late mother, didn't escape Y/N's notice. Despite the slight discomfort, he chose to focus on his growing family, diverting his attention away from the nuances of favoritism and concentrating on the joyous moments that bound them together.

The grand hunt orchestrated by King Viserys brought a sense of delight to Otto Hightower, who relished the opportunity for both entertainment and strategic alliances. The men, engaged in the pursuit of a White Hart—a symbolic creature representing royalty—set out with purpose, leaving the women to find solace within the safety of the camp.

As Alicent sat beside her husband, Y/N, who held their young son Aegon in his lap, an unexpected intrusion disrupted the peace inside the tent. Rhaenyra, the spirited Princess, burst in with determination, her grievances clear. Viserys, in his pursuit to secure her a suitable match, had orchestrated a connection with Jason Lannister, much to Rhaenyra's vocal displeasure. The fiery Princess asserted her autonomy, rejecting the notion of being treated as a prize to be sold to the highest bidder.

The repercussions of this confrontation left Alicent aware of the strain in her once-unbreakable bond with Rhaenyra. The princess, fueled by a desire to ascend to the throne, resented the twist of fate that seemingly diverted Y/N's affections toward Alicent, who had become the new Princess consort.

In the next years, Rhaenyra's fate took a turn as she was forced into a marriage with her cousin, Ser Laenor Velaryon, because of previous liaison with her uncle Daemon in a pleasure house that added further complexity to the situation. The marriage, arranged against her will, led to the birth of bastards, whom she attempted to pass as legitimate—a move not lost on the eyes of the court.

Despite Viserys's blindness, the court recognized the discrepancy in the children's Valyrian features. Whispers spread, hinting at a connection with Ser Harwing Strong, the Commander of the Gold Cloaks, who served closely under the Princess.

These choices made by Rhaenyra made Alicent bitter. The apparent disregard for duty exhibited by Rhaenyra, coupled with the ability to evade consequences, fueled Alicent's resentment. Yet, in the face of this, the legitimacy of the children born to Y/N and Alicent remained unquestionable. The unmistakable resemblance of each child to their father nullified any potential doubts that might have arisen.

As their children matured, distinct personalities emerged, painting a portrait of the Targaryen legacy. Aegon, the mischievous firstborn, delighted in playing pranks and causing mayhem within the castle. Despite occasional mischief, his loyalty to the family prevailed, a testament to the intricate balance of his character.

Helaena, their only daughter, embodied sweetness and warmth. Though closed off to many, she harbored a great heart, often murmuring riddles that, while dismissed by most, held significance to her parents who recognized her as a dreamer with visions of her own.

Aemond, a mirror image of his father, shared not only physical similarities but also akin personalities. The only distinction lay in Aemond's shyness. His passion for history forged a special bond with King Viserys, who favored the small Prince. Their shared love for learning brought them together in frequent discussions about the boy's recent discoveries.

The youngest, Daeron, charmed all who crossed his path, earning the title of the most popular son among their subjects. His charm and charisma propelled him to Oldtown, serving his mother's uncle as a cupbearer and squire.

Amidst the dynamic growth of their children, Y/N and Alicent's love stood resilient. Any hopes Rhaenyra harbored of a falling out between the couple were in vain; their bond, an indestructible force, continued to strengthen.

The visible strain within the ruling family had spilled beyond the walls of the Red Keep, earning them the titles of "blacks" and "reds" among the common folk and nobility alike. Y/N, recognizing the fractures within his family, attempted reconciliation with his younger sister, but Rhaenyra remained consumed by anger towards him for marrying another and harbored resentment for Alicent, his wife for being said woman. The rift seemed irreparable.

Despite the familial tensions, Y/N maintained a close involvement in the training of his sons, personally overseeing their progress with the assistance of Ser Criston Cole, who had shifted his allegiance from Rhaenyra to the royal family. Aegon and Aemond exhibited remarkable progress, overshadowing their cousins.

During a training session, as Ser Criston instructed the young princes, Y/N was reluctantly pulled away by the demands of his duties as the Heir. King Viserys, observing from the terrace, keenly followed the lesson. The knight, calling upon Aegon, challenged him to a sparring match and taunted, "Let's see if you can touch me. You and your brother." The confident Prince, Aegon, responded with a cocky assurance, "I've won my first bound, Ser Criston. My opponent sues for mercy."

Undeterred, Ser Criston introduced a new challenge, pitting both Aegon and Aemond against him. The two princes advanced, swords in hand, but the seasoned knight skillfully blocked each of their attacks, showcasing his experience and expertise. The training ground became a battleground of skills, the clash of steel echoing the intricate dynamics of power, loyalty, and the indomitable spirit of the Targaryen lineage.

The training ground, alive with the clang of swords and the shuffling of feet, fell into a momentary silence as Ser Harwin approached, offering instructions to the brown-haired princes. His voice redirected Ser Criston's attention toward the younger boys. "It seems like the younger boys could use your attention, Ser," Harwin remarked as he walked closer. A subtle tension hung in the air as Criston questioned, "Are you questioning my method of instruction?"

In response, Criston motioned for Aegon to face Jaecerys, declaring it an "eldest son against eldest son" spar. The white-haired Prince's age and strength became evident as he overpowered the younger Jaecerys. However, as Aegon advanced, he found himself roughly seized by the shoulder and pulled away by Ser Harwin. Aegon, outraged by the intervention, protested loudly, resulting in a reprimand from the King.

Tensions flared further when Criston began questioning the Commander of the Gold Cloaks's interest in the princes' training, suggesting affections that a man might harbor for his children. The insinuation proved too much for Ser Harwin, who snapped and attacked Criston. The incident led to Ser Harwin's banishment from King's Landing, and a few days later, he perished within the walls of Harrenhal along with his father.

More sorrowful news followed swiftly. A raven brought the grim information of Lady Laena Velaryon's death, casting a pall over King's Landing. The weight of Laena's death cast a somber shadow over Y/N, who had considered her another sister growing up. The entire family traveled to Driftmark to pay their respects, attending a funeral marred by Lord Vaemond's continuous accusations directed at Princess Rhaenyra and her bastard sons. Prince Daemon's laughter, strategically employed to deflect attention, added a layer of tension to the already heart-wrenching day.

Once the children retired for the night, Alicent found a moment to speak with her husband. In the quiet confines of their chamber, she gently inquired, "Are you alright, my love?" Y/N, standing by a window overlooking the view of Driftmark, confessed, "She was one of my closest friends, and she died alone. Without her family or friends, because Daemon denied her return. She didn't deserve such a fate."

Alicent, though not as intimately acquainted with Lady Laena, offered words of solace, acknowledging her bravery and kindness. Y/N, appreciating his wife's comforting presence, sighed and turned to look at her. "I'm sure you're right, darling," he said, caressing her face. In that moment, they found solace in each other's embrace, a comforting respite from the sorrow that permeated their hearts.

With a shared understanding, Y/N guided Alicent to bed, where they surrendered to the embrace of sleep, seeking refuge from the weariness that accompanied the emotional journey. Their intertwined forms, nestled in peaceful repose, reflected the enduring strength of their bond in the face of life's inevitable trials.

The tranquility that enveloped Y/N and Alicent was shattered abruptly when a maid, panic-stricken, banged on their door, delivering news of a grave accident involving their son. Swiftly dressing into presentable robes, they rushed towards the hall where their children were present. The sight that awaited them was horrifying—Aemond, their beloved son, was a bloody mess, missing an eye. Alicent's anguished scream pierced the air as she ran towards her injured child.

Demanding answers, Y/N interrogated the Knights, learning that the Prince had been mauled in a brawl with his cousins. The King, arriving on the scene, angrily questioned the guards for allowing such an incident. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys soon joined, but Y/N's attention shifted to the absence of Princess Rhaenyra. When she finally appeared, followed by Prince Daemon, their disheveled appearance hinted at a liaison that further fueled Y/N's anger. How could they disrespect Lady Laena's memory like this?

Amid the chaos, Rhaenyra declared the incident a "regrettable accident," but Alicent argued it was a planned attack. Rhaenyra defended her sons, claiming they were being attacked with vile insults against their legitimacy "Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned on where he heard such slanders". Y/N's anger flared; his sister intended to torture his gravely wounded son over a truth that was evident.

Rhaenyra's attempt to extract information from Prince Aemond, who had heard the alleged slanders, only heightened tensions. Y/N, protective of his son, forbade any harm to befell Aemond. As the King sought apologies and forgiveness, Alicent snapped, demanding justice and ordering the eye of Lucerys Velaryon to conduct it. Chaos ensued as Alicent, fueled by rage, advanced towards Rhaenyra with a knife. Y/N noticed his uncle making way to two women to undoubtedly aid Rhaenyra, which he couldn't let happen and stopped him before Daemon could reach her.

The struggle between Alicent and Rhaenyra unfolded, the room becoming a battleground of emotions and grievances. In the midst of the chaos, Aemond, now with one eye, offered comfort to his mother, stating "Don't mourn me mother. I might've lost an eye but I gained a dragon". Y/N joined the embrace, and as his father declared the matter over, the fractured family clung to the remnants of peace amidst the aftermath of pain and turmoil.

As the years unfolded, the Targaryen family found solace and unity in each other's company. Every meal became a cherished time for discussion, laughter, and shared moments, further strengthening the familial bonds that had weathered storms and emerged resilient.

Aegon and Helaena's marriage flourished, blessed with their two beautiful children, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. Aegon transformed into a caring and attentive husband, shedding his earlier tendencies to become the perfect Prince fit to one day ascend the throne. Aemond, despite the challenges posed by his limited vision, emerged as a formidable warrior under his father's tutelage. Determined not to be hindered by his condition, he trained with unparalleled dedication, surpassing many in skill and prowess.

Y/N and Alicent, beaming with pride, reveled in the achievements of their children. However, their joy was tempered by the somber responsibility that befell them. With King Viserys succumbing to sickness, he lay bedridden, casting a long shadow over the realm. The inevitable reality loomed—the time was approaching when a new monarch would ascend the throne.

Amidst the bittersweet echoes of Viserys's declining health, the Targaryen family stood united, ready to face the challenges that awaited them. The transition of power loomed on the horizon, and the legacy of House Targaryen stood at the threshold of a new chapter in the annals of Westeros.

The arrival of a raven bearing Ser Vaemond Velaryon's challenging petition for the Driftwood Throne thrust the Red Keep into a state of heightened anxiety. The assertion that Rhaenyra, Daemon, and their children would return to the heart of the realm brought a cloud of unease over the castle, especially given the recent mysterious death of Laenor Velaryon.

In the midst of the commotion, Alicent navigated through the corridors toward the King's chamber, where she knew Rhaenyra and Daemon would be discussing the pressing matter of King Viserys's condition. Upon entering, she greeted them with courtesy, acknowledging the lapse of time since their last encounter. Daemon responded with a nonchalant hum, while Rhaenyra inquired about the authority overseeing the trial of her son.

A new voice cut through the tension as Y/N entered, a smirk playing on his lips. He revealed himself as the authority presiding over the trial, promising a fair judgment even as he acknowledged the accusations thrown at his wife. The room held its breath, and Alicent, standing beside her husband, added, "We have pressing matters to attend to, but please, make yourself at home." With that, the married couple walked away, leaving the guests to navigate the looming trial and the shadows of familial discord that cast their pall over the Red Keep.

The throne room buzzed with tension as the petitions unfolded, each speaker presenting their case before Y/N, who sat on the throne in his father's stead. The weight of judgment rested heavily on his shoulders. Lord Vaemond Velaryon was the first to address the court, delivering a lengthy discourse on bloodlines and the survival of House Velaryon.

However, the proceedings took an unexpected turn when, during Rhaenyra's turn to present her defense, the door opened, and in walked King Viserys. Ready to defend his favorite child, the ailing monarch cast a shadow over the proceedings. The air thickened with anticipation as the confrontation unfolded.

In a swift and brutal turn of events, Vaemond found himself condemned for openly declaring the princess's sons as bastards. The throne room, once filled with the echoes of legal arguments, now bore witness to the irrevocable consequences of familial discord and political maneuvering. As the lifeblood of House Velaryon spilled in pursuit of power and legitimacy, the court faced the stark reality that the struggle for succession and survival could exact a heavy toll on those entangled in the webs of Westerosi politics.

The atmosphere in the dining hall was thick with tension, mirroring the strained relationships within the Targaryen family. Viserys, lying in his seat of honor, served as the symbolic divide between two estranged siblings, Rhaenyra and Y/N, as the air was charged with unspoken grievances.

Jace and Luke, Baela and Rhaena, each engaged in their own conversations, while Aegon and Helaena shared a tender moment, the Prince gently rubbing his wife's hand. Aemond and Daemon, ever vigilant, sat observing, their tension a reflection of the underlying conflicts.

As King Viserys was carried in, the room stood in a display of respect. The king began his speech, adressing his family. “It’s good to see you all together. My heart aches when I see the faces dearest to me so full of envy and drifting apart form each other. House of the Dragon must be united, so let us forget all and stay strong. If not for the realm, the for this old man, who loves you all dearly.“ But the damage had been done, and the fractures within the family ran too deep to be easily mended.

Rhaenyra's toast, seemingly a gesture of reconciliation, momentarily shifted the mood. Alicent responded gracefully, highlighting the common ground between them as mothers, but the facade of harmony was shattered by a seemingly innocent gesture—a pig brought before Prince Aemond, triggering memories of the Pink Dread incident.

Aemond's explosive reaction disrupted the fragile peace. The room fell into an uneasy silence as he stood, expressing a "final tribute" to the health of his nephews, ending the speech with an insult towards the boys calling them "Strong". Chaos erupted as the young princes clashed, and the adults scrambled to intervene. The disastrous dinner culminated in Princess Rhaenyra's decision to retreat to Dragonstone, leaving behind a shattered illusion of family unity. The scars of the past ran too deep, and the once-grand gesture of a family dinner had unraveled into a painful reminder of the irreparable divisions within House Targaryen.

The dimly lit corridors echoed with quiet footsteps as Y/N made his way to his father's chamber. Upon entering, a solemn atmosphere enveloped the room, and Y/N approached King Viserys. As he assisted the ailing monarch in preparing for sleep, Viserys muttered incoherent phrases, and amidst the confusion, Y/N discerned a recurring theme—Aegon's prophecy.

In the hushed moments of their interaction, the weight of impending succession hung in the air. Viserys, in his final moments, seemed to impart a significant task to his son, urging him to fulfill the prophecy. The murmurings faded as the night unfolded, and King Viserys the Peaceful drew his last breath.

As dawn approached, the realm awaited the news of a new leader who would step forward to succeed the late monarch. The corridors, once traversed by Y/N in anticipation, now held the echoes of transition and the uncertainty that accompanied the changing tides of leadership within House Targaryen.

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A/N: This one is slightly longer, but I couldn't help but give Alicent and her kids the husband and father they deserved. We all could agree that Viserys absolutely sucked in these roles. Thank you for all the support and it would mean the world to me if you checked out my other works ♡

[cerisefait]

Dancing with hotd men

[headcanon] how I imagine jaecerys, daemon, aegon and aemond view dancing

Jaecerys tries his best

he tries to be the perfect son and heir for his mother, the queen.

so you best believe that he cares about all of his duties including dancing.

he sees it as a reflection of his, thus his house's manners.

with the help of his grandfather lord corlys and his grandmother rhaenys, he learned the delicacies of this art form.

he never imagined it but dancing actually became a secret passion of his; he loves how even the basic dance moves could form such an intimate connection.

how does he dance? well, he is very disciplined; his moves are smooth but his face is always stern.

It's not because he's not enjoying it, it's because he's too focused on both of your moves: he cares deeply about the way he is being perceived (being the eldest son of the rightful heir is hard work).

he loves to look deeply into your eyes and make you shine out of the both of you.

after the dance he always takes your hand and places a suave kiss on top of it like the gentleman he is.

Daemon steals you from your partner

he doesn't like to dance but he is good at it. he'd rather sit and watch you.

because he doesn't enjoy the idea of being in huge crowds, blending in. he always loves to steal the thunder with his chaotic actions.

so it's not a surprise that he steals your dance with your assigned partner and makes a scene.

he knows it'll cause gossips and drama but he doesn't care. all he cares about is his love and the fact that everyone knows you belong to him.

when it comes to dancing, he is not afraid of having a firm grip on you: it's one of the ways he shows his affection. it's -again- kind of a possesion thing.

it's more about what he feels than how he is perceived: his moves are still pleasing and smooth but it's all about being lost in the moment for him.

whenever you two dance, you fall in love with him again.

oh and he loves to touch foreheads, it makes him feel safe in your presence.

Aegon dances because its his duty

he doesn't enjoy dancing, he'd much rather sit at his king chair having alcohol served to him.

but being the king he is, he has responsibilities: to his people, his house, the realm. even though this wasn't his dream, he had to obey.

when he's sober, his moves are stiff: it's evident that he doesn't enjoy himself. it's your duty to console and guide him through it.

he usually puts on a happy face -which doesn't reach his eyes, yknow the one- and carries on, muttering curse words to himself.

but he lets you know how grateful he is for your presence here, with him.

fun fact: he does well when he's got a little bit of alcohol in him. he becomes all goofy and lovey dovey.

it only happens when you're alone in your chambers but you love to see that side of him.

Aemond watches you dance from afar

he's not a big fan. he finds combating etc more enjoyable than dancing so he never even learned the proper etiquette of dancing.

he also thinks it's a bit childish but when he sees you dance, it's over for him.

he loves the way you follow the rhythm, sway your body and enjoy yourself.

though he definitely becomes jealous of your partner and wishes to learn some of the dance moves so he could escort you.

not to show off in public ofcourse, he has this reputation of being a lone wolf: he's not a pda guy.

but he wants to be able to take you up to dance if he wanted to.

so he encourages you to teach him the basics in private; one time you layed your head on his shoulder while dancing and he was filled with joy.

he didn't show it to you but you knew his love for you. he didn't have to make grand gestures.

[adsari]

I have to respect Jace. He was in the North for a day but he took lesson on standing and serving very seriously

[elegantsplendour]

Some of my favourite Aemond gifs 💚🤍

[humongouscatfan]

I Like Me Better When I Am With You (Chapter 1)

Your POV:

You pause, turning to look at the clock. Sure, you had woken up a bit late today, but still it was a little early for visits. Maybe the girls forgot something last night so they came by to pick it up? They did leave in quite a rush.

You put your phone down. Rhaena will have to wait for a little longer while you go answer the bell.

You open the door without bothering to look through the peephole. You instantly regret it when dark eyes meet yours.

Jace Velaryon is standing on your doorway. He is wearing a red sweatshirt and loose dark blue jeans. His hair looks neat and soft like he had spend a lot of time tending to it. His skin is a bit more tanned than usual and you remember Baela had mentioned he was going camping with Luke a few days prior.

His eyes wander up and down your body. To your horror, you are suddenly reminded that you are still wearing your pyjamas.

"Hi," you break the silence finally.

You force yourself to smile and try to act natural. But your voice still comes out much shakier than you would prefer.

You think you catch his cheeks grow rosy but your hopeless brain must have made that up.

"I was just taking Vermax out for a walk," he motions down.

You blink. You had been so shocked by his presence that you had barely noticed the Great Dane at your feet. It barks at you and you jump back instictively.

Jace grabs him by the collar and holds him back while you gather your cool.

"Bad boy," he chastises the dog and it whines softly.

Jace straightens up and clears his throat. This time, you are certain he is blushing.

"Sorry. He does not bite. As I was saying..." he seems to struggle with finding the words for a moment "I wanted to ask you if you wanted to come with me. To walk Vermax."

Your jaw almost drops to the floor. Your childhood crush is standing in front of you and asking you to walk his dog with him. Sure, he does not mean it romantically, but still your heart is bursting against your chest.

You secretly pinch yourself and can't hold back a little smile when the pain curses through your skin.

"Sure," you are almost ready to leap out on the street with him when you realize you are still in your pyjamas "Uhm, actually, I need to change first."

He blinks and looks down at your clothes again. His mouth forms an O as if he had forgotten about that part too.

"Yes, of course,"

"Just give me a minute," you say and rush up to your room.

You swear you hear muffled mutters behind you.

As you put on your clothes, your mind strays. What has caused this? Jace was never distant or anything. You are best friends with his step sisters after all. But you cannot remember the last time the two of you had been all alone together.

Are you overthinking this? Maybe his other friends are just busy? Or maybe it had something with Baela or Rhaena? You hope it's not that. Either way, you certainly won't refuse.

As you are making your way back down, you have forgotten everything about Rhaena and her cryptic apology. You smile at Jace and tell him you are ready. He answers with a smile of his own.

The two of you begin walking around the block. An uncomfortable silence lingers between you, the only source of sound being Vermax's occassional yappings. You don't know what you are supposed to say or do so you simply try to match Jace's pace.

Your eyes stray, however, and take him in. Jace has changed a lot since you first saw hin standing across your drive away. He has gotten much taller, his chest is broad and toned. The lines of his face have grown more prominent and you can barely rip your gaze away from his chiseled jaw. He looks how you imagine a fairytale prince would look.

You are so distracted you also miss that he has noticed you staring. When you do, you turn your face down to the pavement and pretend it is the most fascinating thing you have ever seen.

"It's strange, you know. I don't feel like we have ever talked. I mean, we obviously have, but it has never been just the two of us. I feel I am not making any sense,"

"No, I understand what you are saying," you hurry to reassure him.

Baela and Rhaena. Lucerys and Joffrey. Someone was always around. This, the two of you, walking side by side, no one else to distract you carries a certain weight you can't put your finger on.

You realize you are getting closer to your home. You are not sure if you want to get there faster or stay here like this forever.

Jace opens his mouth to speak but then quickly closes it again. His eyebrows are furrowed and he ignores Vermax's barks. He seems to be in deep thought.

You are in front of your house. You both stand there. He is avoiding your eyes. You are expecting for something, you don't know what.

When another moment passes without it arriving, you sigh.

"Thanks for the walk. Let's do it again some time-,"

"Wait!" he exclaims.

You are taken aback by his tone. You stop in your tracks and stare into his intense eyes.

"I wanted to say something else," he admits.

You wait patiently as he digs his hands in the pockets of his sweater. Your whole body freezes when you see the familiar pink paper.

God, no. This can't be happening. Anything but this.

"I just wanted to say-,"

"No," you shut him down.

He looks up at you, shocked at your bluntness. You hope he does not notice your trembling hands.

Your breath rate quickens as you jump into fight or flight mode.

"Uhm, later!" you add hurriedly "I have something really important to do right now."

"Really?"

Does he sound disappointed? You shake the thought away.

"Yeah! My... ah. My..."

Think, Y/N. What do people usually worry about?

"I have to go feed my grandma,"

What is wrong with you?!

"Can't it wait...?"

Well, since you had already said that idiotic lie might as well stick with it!

"No. Absolutely not. You don't know my grandma. She is a right tyrant," you are backing away and definitely talking much faster than normal "Nice to talk to you. Bye!"

You storm into your house and slam the door behind like your life depends on it. Your heart is beating like a drum while you look through the peephole. Jace stands in your garden for a moment, looks down at Vermax, mumbles something to himself and leaves.

Able to breathe better at last, you dial up Rhaena's number.

"Did you do this?!" you shout through the speaker.

A few minutes later, you hear another knock at your door. This time you know better and you check before opening. You see Rhaena and Baela there. Rhaena is holding a gigantic light blue seahorse plushie in her arms while Baela shakes her head in dismay.

You scoff but let them in anyway. Rhaena flings herself in your arms, the gigantic plushie squished between the two of you.

"I am sorry! I don't know what I was thinking,"

"You clearly weren't thinking. I swear, Rhae, every day you astound me with your stupidity," Baela snaps.

While mad, the sight of Rhaena's teary eyes softens your anger. A few hours later, the girls are sitting beside you, all of you huddled under the blanket, munching on chocolates and wallowing in self-pity.

"I am so sorry," Rhaena repeats "I was just so frustrated about Luke and how Baela won't shut up about the whole thing-."

"Then take it out on me, you idiot, not Y/N," Baela rolls her eyes.

"Honestly, guys, I don't even care about who did what," you breathe out sharply "What am I supposed to do now? I sounded like a total freak there."

"I thought your poem was sweet," Rhaena tried to comfort you.

"I wrote it when I was like eleven! I am pretty sure I misspelled words," you groan, hiding your face in the pillow.

"Don't worry. If Jace starts anything, I will take care of him," Baela says and it sounds like a threat.

"Jace won't do anything. He is too... nice. But how will I ever look at him again?"

Baela gives you a look of sympathy as she pats your shoulder.

"I am sorry," Rhaena repeats and she wraps her arms around you.

That night, sleep escapes your grasp every time you close your eyes. When you manage to fall asleep at last, your dreams are plagued with nightmares.

The next Monday may be the worst of your life. It was easy enough to hide away during the weekend. You were safe within the four walls of your bedroom. You played sick to try to get out of going to school, but your parents did not fall for it.

Usually, you would get to school with Baela and Rhaena but that morning you decided to wake up earlier just to make sure you would get to school before Jace.

Since you can't solve this problem, you will avoid it till it fades away. Eventually, Jace will find a sweet girl and he will forget all about that one strange letter he got from his neighbour once. The thought fills you with envy for the girl in your imagination.

Anyway, your plan is as close to perfect as it can be. Luckily, you have no lessons with Jace on Monday so you are safe for now. Then, you will stay in the book club during the breaks. Jace has no reason to go there and he always hands out with his friends regardless. Plus, you will get to finish that book Aemond had suggested last week.

The first hours slip by like a fog. You are too occupied glancing over your shoulder, half-expecting Jace to be standing there like something out of a cheesy horror flick. You have lost count of the times you were called out for not paying attention.

The bell rings. You rush out of the class and hastily make your way to the book club room. Upon entering, the scent of books enters your nostrils. After the long, tiring weekend, you are at ease.

Your eyes peer over the bookshelves. They stumble over a variety of titles, but not the one you are searching for. You frown. You are certain you had spotted it around here just last week.

"Searching for this?"

A deep voice reaches your ears and knocks the air out of your lungs. Aemond raises the book you were looking for, the title "The Brothers Karamov" printed on the cover.

He looks so elegant, seated besides the window, the sunlight illuminating his long, silver hair that you forget the concept of words for a moment. The corners of his mouth are tilted up ever so slightly in a sly smile.

Realizing you have been staring for who knows how long, you nod.

"You may have it," he says, extending the book out towards you.

"No, it is no need," you answer.

"I insist. I have a copy of my own. My sister has just borrowed it for the time being,"

"In that case..." you relent.

You hesitate to step forward. You sense this invisible wall between the two of you and you fear what you might do if you cross too far. He watches you wordlessly as you take the first step.

The tome is heavy in your hand. The tips of your fingers brush against each other and fireworks go off. You ignore the heady sensation and thank him for the book.

He nods and seems to consider something for a second. You catch a glimpse of something in his eye, almost akin to frustration, as he gets up.

Only now do you realize how close you are. You can see the glint in his eyes, the scar adorning his cheek. You wonder if he knows how hard it is for you to look away, to register anything aside from him in this moment.

He is so close you can touch him. Entangle your fingers in his silver locks, grip onto his lithe yet firm shoulders, caress the scar on his face.

Aemond has never paid you much attention before. He has always been cold, distant. And now he is close and his mere being is burning you.

"Y/N L/N," he whispers your name and it feels like a test, a curse-it makes you shiver "I wasn't aware you were a writer."

"I am not. I am more of a reader really," you despise how meek you sound.

"Are you now?" Aemond hums in response.

He places his hand down on the desk besides him and you swallow deeply at the sight of your own letters, etched in dark ink.

You want to run away, to escape. Meanwhile, Aemond picks the letter up.

"This is very impressive from someone who has never written before then,"

You try to breathe but it is physically impossible. His gaze on you is all that exists.

And then he steps away. Allowing you to breathe and leaving you feeling frozen.

"You look faint," he comments.

You feel like it too. You are expecting your knees to give out on you at any minute.

"You should go to the infirmary," he continues.

Without anymore explanation, he offers you his arm. You stare at him dumbfounded before hesitantly linking your arm with his.

You know he is guiding you somewhere but all you can focus on is the heat of him against your skin. You try to calm your racing heart and fail.

You let out a small yelp when you are about to pass by the cafeteria and you shake your head. Aemond looks at you with confusion.

"Jace will be there. I... I am kind of avoiding him," you confess.

Aemond's jaw tightens.

"Did he do anything?" he questions sharply.

"No. No. The blame is on me. But still. I don't want to face him right now,"

Aemond asks no more questions. He merely nods and leads you the long way to the cafeteria. You can feel eyes pinned on the two of you as you walk the rest of the way to the nurse's office. There, the nurse notes you look very tired and that you should lay down for a bit.

You expect Aemond to leave as soon as you arrive but he stays and silently watches from a distance. The feeling of his gaze on you sends goosebumps all over your skin. At last, something seems to snap in him and he walks out. But before he does so, he whispers something.

"I did not expect this from you,"

His tone is almost betrayed, but before you can ask what he means, he has left away from your reach.

You consider running after him, but frankly, you are exhausted. All you want to do is close your eyes for a moment...

You end up dozing off for the entirety of the break. You are not much better for the rest of the school day, one boring lecture away from falling asleep on your history book.

When school comes to a close, it feels like a century has passed. You walk quickly. You have had enough excitement for a lifetime. Now all you want to do is hide under your blanket and drink hot choco.

You are daydreaming about that image when a car horn snaps you back into reality. You turn your head to see who dares interrupt your calm.

You are left speechless when you see Aegon on his green convertible. He pushes his sunglasses up to reveal his light lilac eyes. His silver curls frame his face like a halo yet his catlike grin is nothing short of devilish.

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out.

"Hey," he says, seeming to take joy in yout flusteredness.

"Hi!" you respond a bit too eagerly "Uhm. I thought you had graduated last year? Did you come to see your siblings?"

"No, I did not come for them,"

He takes in every inch of you. You feel naked before him.

"Are you walking home?" he asks.

"Yes,"

"Want a ride?"

Yes-. Bad, Y/N. He did not mean it like that.

Then again... Judging by the desire in his eyes, he just might.

"Can't be worse than walking," he adds.

You can't find a flaw to his logic. He is staring at you like he wants to consume you whole and it is hard to say no.

No. No. No.

Enough crazy stuff has happened today. You need to get away from all this madness and that includes saying no to the hot guy offering you a ride in his fancy car.

"Come on, jump in," he smirks.

Your defences are down. You have no choice but to join him. You feel self-conscious the whole time. Like everyone is staring at you while you drive off.

Aegon speeds off. You are shocked by how fast he is going. You clutch at your thigh anxiously. He momentarily takes his eyes off the road and they drift down to your lap.

"You can grab onto my thigh if you are scared," he offers.

You gulp and shake your head, face burning.

"I am not,"

"I said if," he says slyly.

There is a very short moment of silence when you are allowed to breathe again before he speaks.

"I read your letter,"

How high are the chances of dying if you jump out of the car right now? You contemplate if the risk is worth it.

"I never saw you as the naughty type, Princess,"

The pet names rolls off his lips so smoothly. He has probably said the same thing to a dozen other girls before. Still, butterflies reign in your belly and you feel special.

"You did not see me at all,"

You did not actually mean for those words to leave your lips. Once you realize what you have said, you are overwhelmed. Just how stupid do you have to be?

Aegon only chuckles.

"I did actually. Last year. Summer camp was hosting a party. You were there, wearing a red dress with a bow on the back. I was going to approach you,"

You remember that party. You had dressed up and spent the entire night trying to meet Aegon's eyes while he hit on every other girl in the room.

"Why did you not?" you ask.

"Well, Baela came up to me and said that if I pulled anything weird with you, she would turn my balls into toys for the dogs,"

Damn you, Baela. Sadly, you can't even say you are surprised. It does sound like her.

You are approaching your house. He stops right in front of the sidewalk. Before you can undo your seatbelt, he leans over and his arm wraps around you. For a second, you think he will kiss you and your heart skips a beat only for him to undo the buckle.

You wait for him to move back but once again he exceeds your expectations. His breath fans over your lips, the scent of sweet mint making you dizzy. His eyes linger on your mouth.

"But I can't be blamed now, can I?"

"For what?" your voice comes out unstable.

He leans closer. His lips brush over the corner of your mouth. One part of you wabts to curse at him. To demand he kiss you until you don't remember your name. The other wants to run away, to escape, to hide.

"For doing all those things you asked me in your letter," Aegon closes his eyes.

This is happening. Oh God. Oh God. Did you brush your teeth this morning?

Aegon's phone rings. He curses below his breath and pulls it out of his pocket to deny the call. You take the chance to get your mind together.

"It is nothing," he reassures.

"No! You should answer. And I need to go. To do-. I need to go do the thing," you blurt out.

"The thing, huh?" he laughs, voice low and raspy.

"Yeah, the thing. Very important thing. I need to go do it,"

You are not making this any easier on yourself, are you?

"And when will you be done with the thing?" Aegon asks.

What is happening? Is he asking you if you are available? Your brain is malfunctioning.

"I don't know. Thanks for the ride! Very nice of you. I need to go do the thing. Bye!"

You are speaking so fast you are not sure he catches everything you are saying. Giving yourself no time to change mind, you leap out of the car and run into your house.

As you slam the door behind you and take a long breath, you think aloud.

What a day.

[thebitchentity96]

I'm back baby!!!

[deithe]

if jon *does* have a valyrian name it has 2 be something like. aemon. lyanna would not name her kid jaeherys that's such a loser name. aegon is out due to the overabundance of aegons. she's not naming her kid daeron due to obvious dorne related reasons, however i could get behind jon being named after the 16 year old gay prince who started a war. aemond? no. gaemon? hilarious but also no. daemon is a fucking no straight out of the gate. viserys i could see, the male equivalent of visenya, but unlikely.

best option? he has no valyrian name. he's just Jon. not jonothor, just Jon.

[targaryen-jpg]

i am taking requests for house of the dragon! specifically harwin, daemon, criston cole, aemond, and jace!! i am also working on a multi part aemond fic right now

feel free to send me an ask anytime and i'll see what i can come up with ;)

[horizon-verizon]

“She was my only daughter, and they killed her. They stole my crown and murdered my daughter, and they shall answer for it.” And so the Dance began, as the princess called a council of her own. “The black council,” the True Telling names that gathering on Dragonstone, setting it against the “green council” of King’s Landing. Rhaenyra herself presided, seated between her uncle and husband, Prince Daemon, and her trusted counselor, Maester Gerardys. Her three sons were present with them, though none had reached the age of manhood (Jace was fourteen, Luke thirteen, Joffrey eleven). Two Kingsguard stood with them: Ser Erryk Cargyll, twin to Ser Arryk, and the westerman, Ser Lorent Marbrand.

Fire and Blood, by George R.R. Martin, pg 403 [PT1--The Black Council]

[inana-mm]

Not me trying to finish writing a part two for « I Choose family » (who is the chapter 1 for the Red Sun of Dorne series) but that draft is messy and incomplete despite being 2k+ words 😃

The plot holes are horrendous since I keep mixing up the book and series temporalities 😀

Any opinions/ideas of how this is gonna play out ? 😂

[bogusavathepit]

House of the Dragon: Episode 8 “They Were Supposed to Be Adults?! Was Anyone Even a Person?”

*CW: SA*

Ryan Condal, one of the showrunners, mentions in the post-episode interview on HBO that this episode was supposed to showcase Rhaenyra and Alicent’s children as grown adults now....

But this is basically why I think this is the bottom-ranked, dullest episode so far for me: 

There is little nuance or complexity to our characters if it doesn’t serve Viserys’ Jesus-savior character development. Where is more of the political backstabbing aside from the Driftmark claim?

A) 

The tension and dread that the writers, directors, etc. created for us from the last episodes’ has disappeared and become a standard, almost impersonal presentation of the character’s emotions so that we only focus on Viserys’ death....when this is supposed to be a dramatic portrayal of several characters’ development. 

B)

And overall, the entire show appears to try to show how patriarchy degrades and victimizes queer people, women, the poor, etc. Basically those marginalized in a feudal, patriarchal society.

But most of the women in episode 8, more than before, are oversimplified, or they aren’t presented as impressive as they are described in Martin’s own lore and compared to the men around them. And even then, the men who aren’t Viserys seemed held back to make room for Viserys; “Last Supper”, as Condal calls it.

Pacing and Tone

as if someone were reading aloud either dispassionately or wanting to get to a certain point of the story

the episode that is the most explanatory than a display of action, i.e. exposition

very business-like: “here is what’s happening and what’s happened” for the first 20 minutes (1/5th of the entire episode)

compared to episode 6 and 4 which placed us in the place of having to figure out what is happening and piecing moments together

despite what Condal says at the end of the episode, it is 30 minutes in, where we finally get any hint of tension ramped up when we witness Rhaenyra and Rhaenys’ conversation, but they still shoot the scene with that uber-objective way (static torso-up, full body shots) rather than the past episode’s emotionally dynamic ones

Character Development

*Everyone feels more like pieces in a game rather than actors with agency in a game against each other, again compared to all the last episodes.*

Viserys

After listening to Jessi Gender’s points about the character’s screentime and comparative portrayals, it’s more obvious than ever to me that a lot of our empathy is screened towards Viserys.

that huge entrance with the half-mask to interrupt Rhaenyra 

him making that walk unhelped (at first) in either an show of strength or with everyone supposedly too taken aback by his appearance--maybe both--

the same scene really showing  versus telling us with how decayed he is compared to literally everyone else

camera moving with and in front of Viserys as if in his own perspective view (and no other characters received this kind of shot, so we are meant to empathize most/only with Viserys)

(same view) Rhaenyra & the two sides anticipating his approach--he comes in as her metaphorical savior

everyone conspiring against Lucerys/Rhaenyra looking extra-shocked: Vaemond swerving to Otto, who slowly gets up from his seat, both with their mouths open

at dinner, removes his mask and uses the hole in cheek/eye to discomfort and pull more focus to his words about how they should be more united in the face of his imminent death

camera staying on him as everyone else talks together after his speech with no suspision...as if his speech really could have solved years of conflict and hostility and distrust when all the others couldn’t?!

very last scene is of him struggling to breathe; Alicent leaving him alone, him reaching up saying, “No More” twice; a close up of a single tear rolling down the side of his face; a disturbing quiet; the cut to black as he whispers, “My Love”. 

all shot either above his body/face or the left side parallel to him--centering him and his pain to lead up to that supper and his death

Instead of the many public and suggestive  political clashes that would have occurred between Rhaenyra and Alicent and others inbetween the time Alicent and Rhaenyra fought and now when Rhaenyra returns. The issues between Alicent and Rhaenyra and their kids now that they are so emotionally distant do not feel substantial at all.

We get a Viserys that is hero-painted into being like a messiah character that Rhaenyra pleads to for intervention. The showrunners even said the words, “This is Viserys’ last supper”. 

The actor, Paddy Considine, says of Viserys:

actor for him: all this fighting, this is what it does; this is what being a king does

AND

he was doing his duty...was too human to be king...kept his belief in the prophecy until the day he died....and that was ll he could do....so in some respects he want the right man for the job, but in history, 200 years later he was kinda the right man for the job. So he has a legacy.

Saying that Viserys has given a lot of himself to broker harmony between his relatives for the realm’s own peace, thus performing his own duty. But unfortunately this simplifies Viserys into being an all-suffering, near allegorical figure in a higher moral position than everyone else...when he himslef made the problems that sets the stage for the coming war. 

Then there is the fact that his speech is supposed to make  Alicent and Rhaenyra put aside their feud and let bygone be bygones, as if the feudal political ramifications depend entirely on modern familial re-bonding and agreeing on how much they love this one dying old man who they never really interact with on account of his being too sick to even leave his room all by himself for the past (at least) 3 years.

For the sake of Viserys’ Jesus status, we’ve also simplified Rhanyra, Alicent, Daemon, Vaemond and every child-young adult who the showrunners say are supposed to come into their own  before the civil war....but really don’t.

Ryan Condal (paraphrase): The time jump supposed to introduce the kids as now adults (young adults) of the “17-21 age range”.

Jaecerys

Of all the time he lived, for the past 6 years in Dragonstone even....he now is trying to learn High Valyrian?!

His lack of knowing how to speak it seemed like an excuse to have him express his earnest desire to fight in the suggested conflicts against the greens  and prove his strenght in the face of the countless illegitimacy rumors. It also seems  let us know that he wants to prove himself to be as “Valyrian” as his parents and prove his legitimacy through his actions.

But we really only feel the emotional weight through our seeing the past episodes and that was even more focused on Aemond’s struggles than Jaecerys. 

Though we can logically ascertain that this desire has come from Aemond calling him and his brothers bastards, the fact that he is one, and that incident with Alicent trying to take Lucerys’ eye/Rhaenyra getting hurt, the point is that because we don’t really see him alone with a very close shot maybe, struggling internally. We don’t get hit with that emotional impact that could accompany that logic, like how we saw Rhaenyra switch up when she was talking to Alicent in episode 4.

Rhaena/Baela

Baela is the more vocal, assertive and active than Rhaena, taking on that masculinized trait in contrast. However, they still are more devices of Rhaenyra-Viserys-Lucerys-Daemon than acting more for themselves or at least displaying the affection and ties they have with anyone other than Rhaenys. Their interactions with Rhaenys and anyone else doesn’t really last more than a few seconds in real time, and they both appear less emotionally close with Jaecerys and Lucerys and more in quiet agreement.

Rhaena is used to soften up Rhaenys for Rhaenyra (at least 40 mins in). Baela, stands beside Rhaenys against Vaemond in the first scene of the episode and doesn’t reallya chieve anything there. Her biggest act is a contribution to Rhanyra and Daemon when she writes them what Vaemond intends to do.

And in the dinner, Rhaena is smiling, silent, and pleading while her sister, while ready to fight Aegon, was seen more in the background being hel back than anything. It reminded me of when she was a child before Laena’s death and she said that single line over her possible marriage to the Pentoshi man. She doesn’t act maturer than then because the character isn’t allowed to other than emphasize the wrongs of Aegon’s actions.

Haelana

The woman who has been whispering prophetic sentences to herself and has only displayed something apart from that prophetic role interrupted Alicent’s confrontation with Aegon asking specifically about where her nanny/maid was. Motherhood again.

After another prophetic sentence, “Beware the beast beneath the boards”, she finally displays some personality by implying Aegon only pays attention to her when he’s drunk and wants a lay.....in a toast to her female cousins’ arranged marriages....after they themselves showed little to no real personality other than conciliatory vs flaccid antagonism.

In a dinner set up entirely with shots and acting meant for us to empathize with Viserys more than with anyone else at that table.

Aemond

The episode shows us his fighting skills and how the Velaryon boys (JAce) are intimidated by him and other then him calling them “stong” and fighting them, there’s not much else to Aemond. Just looking cool, observing with his admittedly cool eyepatch.

He also ignores Alicent’s rebuke, which is fine as it shows some sort of autonomy, but we’re not really given enough to feel his personhood. His and the other boys’ altercation is shown more to be an opposition to Viserys, our suffering man’s desires and makes them to be more...disobedient than pushed by political stakes.

Rhaenyra

We can’t really believe in Rhaenyra’s political power when we’re told to believe that she’s completely helpless without Viserys.

Rhaenyra’s authority or autonomy up until this point has been wrapped up entirely in her motherhood instead of being a part of it.  The problem is that the writers, directors, etc have shown us Rhaenyra-as-mother far more than Rhaenyra-as-heir since episode 6. And now she feels both like she’s too helpless and too privileged, that she doesn’t do enough action on her own apart from her father backing her up like how she did when she confronted Daemon in episode 2. What we see as her independent attempts at power-consolidation is always followed by Viserys’ backing her in the moment, instead of just sometimes.

We don’t really get to see her apart from her children or their prospects and displaying more of the ambition that could have been hinted at in episode 5. There, Rhanyra tried to suggest to Cristin that she won’t go with him because of Aegon’s prophetic dream besides the disgrace it would bring to her father, her house, and its legacy. She doesn’t show some sort of pleasure in becoming the first female ruler of a patriarchal society so that this TV Rhaenyra would be connected more to the canon/Martin Rhaenyra who actively and willingly competed against the the canon/Martin Alicent.

We could have gotten so many more incidents after Alicent lost control and before Rhaenyra goes back to King’s Landing where she’s actively competing against Alicent, Otto, Cole, even Alicent’s kids in micro-situations. While Cersei also was obviously out to further her children’s prospects, she also canonically tried to gather alliances for herself as opposed to for her father or son, to instill others’ confidence in her decison-making and authority.

We get another moment where Rhaenyra extends an olive branches out to Rhaenys and Alicent in different ways, mirroring how she tried in episode 6 to Alicent. With  which is to show her declined influence and control over her children’s prospects. It is a reflection of the public decline in her authority as the future ruler and heir. 

Rhaneyra’s shown motivation for moving to Dragonstone came from that moment where her breasts leaked in the council of mainly men as she stuck out that marriage proposal that Alicent unsubtly refused. Which implies that her already fragile authority will be always be compromised by her motherhood when she struggles to be taken seriously in a room of men culturally unfamiliar with child-rearing and childcare and who also do not see masculinized “strength” in those things and their consequences (since death is not involved as a risk). 

And when she goes to visit Viserys again, alone in the night, she brings up Aegon I’s dragon dream and how she thought she wanted that responsibility to lead the realm against a “common foe”. So we are meant to see her as overburdened from a constant stress of keeping her position against the greens

but it is also too easy to look at how she lives apart in Dragonstone with Daemon and her kids (before Baela’s message) and think that she hasn’t really hasn’t had to face the greens head on. They seem too settled and there isn’t an indication she has been fighting. 

And the reason why is because we aren’t given any scenes apart from the nipple leak situation and then this Driftmark event where she would have not won anything and been subject to the farce (unlike how Tyrion took some control when he was put on trial) if Viserys hadn’t stumbled into court. 

It’s tiring to see the imbalance when we’re told that Rhaenyra is supposed to be a baddie. Her personhood gets pulled back, always, to Viserys and his suffering apart from it being tied to her motherhood.

Alicent

Condal said that Alicent basically works to atone for that one incident of losing her composure by devoting herself to the religion of the Seven and being more repressive while also having less control over her children’s violent and predatory actions.

The problem here aside from the children being, again, an element that interruots than adds, is that all that tension is lost and we move into Alicent-as-Viserys’ caretaker. Instead of her as her own political manipulator, like how she’s displayed in her new clothes before the supper and how Martin writes her in the canon lore.

What makes Alicent interesting is not her willful actions, but how she is so feeble against other’s intentions. It doesn’t change into her adulthood.

It’s to be expected that she could again despite her clear attempt to restrain herself, or the attempt to exude more force while also showing “appropriate” restraint....a futile, self-effacing task. Following the showrunner’s comments about how they developed Alicent’s character as being like a “Trumper” who only follows both her father’s suggestive and vocalized instructions in perpetual fear,  she’s more lukewarm because. An oversimplification of her motivation at the very beginning which also make her too modern...this is a medieval, fuedal state here!

It also makes her too supectible to Otto’s influence, yet when we see Otto again, he’s not doing much, which makes it too easy for us to think that Alicent’s actions are coming only from her as an alternative to the idea that Otto’s influence is total and inescapable. 

Alicent does seem to have the most autonomous development of the women presented to us in this episode. When she talks to Dyana, the raped servant girl, she appears to see Dyana’s lack of bodily autonomy and her ability to seek out proper justice for it in herself. We also see that element where Alicent considers how this may reflect on her son’s prospects of becoming king and even having a good public reputation and how this quickly becomes Alicent intimidating the girl with the possibility of the court blaming and going after Dyana. 

Some of us might remember Cersei and how she definitely would have killed Dyana or somehow mutilated her for a cover up and wondered if Alicent would be as authoritarian. There is tension here. there is also tension when she confronts Aegon, displaying a struggle to restrain her anger (not violence) while trying to get Aegon to see the danger he provoked not only on himself but her and her daughter/his sister-wife, Halaena. The episode compels us to compare her even more to Cersei, but now even to Daenerys by her outfit changes and the portrayal of how she deals with her unruly son: will she kill the girl like Cersei would? How close is she really to losing her shit again? 

But when Halaena, her daughter/daughter-in-law, comes in and interrupts her confrontation with Aegon asking about her own kids and their nanny-maid, we don’t get anything more from that moment as it seems Alicent lets her anger against Aegon’s predation go.

Despite her looking like Cersei with that thickly fitted, modest A-line-ish gown up to her neck/chin, her hair up and not framing her shoulders as before with the sharp epaulettes out, like Daenerys of GoT’s last seasons.

Daemon

(I like this) He is still a bitch, as we see his sarcastic self with Alicent.

What is more contentious for me is this: his new and more open emotional vulnerability in this episode is more tied to Viserys’ suffering than personal ambition. The nuance of his desires is lost.

He displays more open concern and gentleness towards his family than he ever did before even before he goes to King’s Landing as we see him gather the eggs Syrax lays presumably for Rhaenyra and Joffrey, lay a hand on her pregnant belly as they consider going back, and helping Viserys on the throne in his big moment.

But we’re cut to a shot of Daemon’s face and only Daemon’s...when before we literally were about to hear Rhaenyra speak. Couldn’t we have gotten more people since that scene showed all the players in one place? And before Vaemond really gets into his uproar against Viserys, we shoot to Daemon’s face (instead of Lucerys, or better Rhaenyra) as he talks about how Viserys can’t be allowed to decide the succession/future of the Velaryon house after having flouted tradition by installing Rhaenyra as heir. That act allowed us to contrast Vaemond’s flaccid attempt at rebellion to Daemon’s more “charming” ones in the past. 

And why exactly is Daemon coming across as more charming? One, because he’s safe in his position as a prince and Visery’s favored brother, but here in this episode it’s because Vaemond is the one-dimensional device to make way for Viserys’ supper scene. As Viserys is the one the epsiode ahs us empathesize with the most, Vaemond comes across as more his powerless antagonist than a person with complicated, substantial struggles against a specific political setting. We are asked to pity Viserys more than pity Vaemond, and we don’t have any pity for Vaemind aho also comes across as clueless.

Daemon is Viserys’ protector in that scene, and thus we sympathesize more with him than we do Vaemond. And we do so easier because we didn’t get to see Vaemind’s struggles with Rhaenyra’s sons being allowed be called Velayrons over the past few years until this one explosive moment.

Why should we feel more for Daemon as opposed to Vaemond when they both suffer from this second-son syndrome?

Vaemond

Vaemond brings up how Corlys only ever cared about the house’s legacy instead of its current material prosperity/survival and this is his assumed motivation. Besides upholding the tradition allowing him to take the Driftmark throne/seat.

One problem is that, canonically, it’s not just that Vaemond dies but his own wife and kids were “punished” by Viserys for Vaemond’s protest. Viserys not hurting Vaemond’s family after his death removes that layer to Viserys’ image because it narrows down his character to being the put-upon sufferer and sacrificer for everyone else. 

The unequivocal “good guy” vs this new threat that is actually shown to be more of a nuisance than a real threat at the end. And it’s fine to have a static character, but the issue is that his purpose in being an obstacle is without enough empathy versus the drama we receive.

There are two different ways the people working in this show feel about Vaemond (paraphrasing):

Miguel Sapocnik, a showrunner: he’s one of those guys that’s not particularly likeable but always tells the truth, so it’s never gotten him far in life....yet he finds himself close to inherit and finds himself in the middle of the strife b/t the two sides...because of his attitude about upholding tradition, he doesn’t perceive how just how “much” everyone “cares” about this issue of the boys’ parentage...“he becomes a sympathetic character, he dies with a little bit of honor”

Wil Johnson, actor for Vaemond: Vaemond is no-nonsense. He will speak out about the boys’ illegitimacy in spite of how everyone else won’t. He is a truthteller who’s been resentful of Viserys, Corlys, and the Targaryens for almost 20 years, so whsn he sees that he won’t become the new head of his house, he decides that he will die on his own terms.

But I think he comes across more as a fool than a hero. We keep shooting between him, Viserys, Daemon and Lucerys, and moments before his death in the throne room, we see Daemon leering at him to take that final step towards him killing him.

He hasn’t had that complex a characterization apart from: questioning Corlys in episode 3 and now Rhaenyra/Rhaenys/Lucerys’ right to have Driftmark. 

The audience also doesn’t expect Vaemond (as opposed to Daemon) to succeed in his attempt to gain power or respect because plus he seems to stand alone in the middle of the two closely-standing sides while being so antagonistic to a sick man and a child. It implies that Vaemond has no true allies, and no one really agrees or tolerates him and with his very simple role, why should we?

Actually, I can reference 3 different times: he stood alone against Baela and Rhaenys; in the conference room; even though there was agreement, Otto and Alicent are family and allies against his lonesome; when he walked surrounded by the Kingsguard, strutting past past Jace and Luke

When he’s with Otto and Alicent before the throne scene, he comes across as slimy, as he keenly plots alongside Otto, our resident boogeyman. We don’t get much in terms of his possible confliction, so we feel less empathy or confliction over his removal.

So he ends up looking more like he is throwing tantrums that the audience, in the last few episodes, tolerate more in Daemon than Vaemond. Daemon acts more affectionately to his family members, especially his rotting brother-king, Viserys.

Again, why should we feel more for Daemon as opposed to Vaemond when they both suffer from this second-son syndrome? Vaemond acting out of line is more him acting tyrannically against the Targaryens than that plus other issues that Daemon himself had faced at one point.

[witchofhimring]

Being the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and claiming Cannibal

This is sort of an offshoot of my Being the Daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen where Reader claims Cannibal instead of Tessarion. Thanks to @katiekatluvz for giving me the idea! Sorry for the long wait I finally have time to write after exams!

Minor Rhaenyra x Reader (platonic)

This happens before Aemond looses his eye.

This was dangerous, possibly suicidal. But after Aegon's comments earlier you could not take it anymore. It was another forced family gathering where Viserys tried to get his eldest child's family to sit with his second wive's. Things started out okay, there was eating and the occasional conversation. You were merely concentrating on just finishing your meal and getting the hell out. Everything fell apart, with it simple being an innocent comment made by Helaena. She had simply said; "When will you get a dragon Y/n?" Oh poor Helaena. She had meant well but of course Aegon had to stick his nose in matters not his own. "Maybe you would like a pig. Call it the pink dread." Aegon threw you a nasty look. Face heating, you shyly looked down, avoiding his gaze. Of course Aegon would find it funny to make fun of other peoples misfortune. "Shove off." Jaecery's snarled at Aegon. Aegon was not done, even when you had gone back to eating. "I guess one day you shall have a dragon. After all, you are a very strong girl." A thick blanket of tension blanketed the door. Everyone, even those at the other end, heard. Helaena's breath hitched, a low exasperated sound escaped Alicent. Aemond snorted. Your cheeks burned with hurt and shame. "Some of us burn hotter than others." Aemond added.

A fist slammed on the table. Visery's, despite being well past his prime, struck the table with enough force that it quivered. Even your mother, normally so vocal, had fallen silent. "You will not utter such slanders in this house." He snarled. At that moment Visery's did not remotely look like the loving grandfather you knew. Visery's glanced at his wife before ordering Aegon to his study. Hanging your head, you ran out of the room, ignoring your mother's cries.

Your door was locked, barring anyone from entering. Even your beloved mother. As the hour grew late there was silence outside. Night did nothing to calm the raging heat in your heart. Of course Aegon thought he was better, riding on oh-so-great Sunfyre and his silver Targaryen hair. And who was Aemond to laugh at you! He didn't have a dragon either!

Here you were, deprived of Targaryen looks and dragonless. Tears rolled down your cheeks. Outside a roar echoed across the water. Wiping the remaining tears you opened the window. A gust of wind nearly blew you back. Bellow the sea surrounding Driftmark thundered, crashing against rocks. Far ahead was a great black lump, so dark that even against the sky it was easily seen. You would have thought it was Vhaegar except that Laena and Daemon were in Pentos. Beyond a stretch of sand were the dragon caves. If one exited the gaves and ran across the sand they could reach the dragons. Sunfyre and Dreamfyre were snoozing in their cave. Vermithor and Silverwing were back at Kingslanding. There were others, of course. You entertained the idea it might be Meyles until the dragon roared once more. It's screech was nothing like you had heard. It sounded like metal being scrapped together. Yet instead of being afraid, an idea came.

Any sane person would have thought twice. Then again, Targaryens were not exactly known for their sanity. Waiting till the early morning, you slipped out. When the sun was just pocking over the horizon that Driftmark was quietest. The guards would be tired and few would be up. Down the halls you slunk, nearing the exit. There was a small side door leading to stairs. These stairs took one right down to the courtyard. Passing a pair of sleepy guards you slipped behind a pair of barrels. Now it was just down the steps. That was when you heard a noise.

A familiar drawl could be heard. Great. Aegon was awake. Quickly you ducked behind a pair of barrels by the door. He stumbled inside and right past you. "I should have kicked him." Once he was gone you looked left and right. Then came the hard part.

The court yard was empty. Not even your father Laenor would be out training. Beyond was the gate, with two guards standing sentry. If you could slip past them, and across the sand, then you could take a small passage that lead to the dragon cave.

It was down to luck. The guards would need to be distracted for long enough. Fortunately, there was luck on your side. The walls supporting the gate were made of stone. And they just so happened to be uneven pieces of stone. Meaning all you had to do was climb up. The guards were so focused on the other side that you could get up without being spotted. Small hands grasped the rocks and you climbed. It occurred to you at that moment wearing a nightgown was likely not a good idea. But it was too late to turn back.

The salty air whipped your hair. Reaching the top you had a view of the caves beyond. There were soldiers guarding but none were looking up. There were four you could see. And now that you had reached the top there was yet another problem. You had no plan other than wait and hope. It was poor planning strategy. Though in your defense you were ten. The sun was rising higher in the sky. Would you even be able to sneak out!?

"Change!" A call nearly caused you to jump up. Looking over the side you saw the guards marching away. Taking the chance you jumped down. The force in which your feet hit the ground made them sting. "Hey!" To your horror you saw guards rushing toward. Shit. Taking a deep breath you plucked up the courage and ran. Having a head start helped. But these were full grown men, and running in sand was hard. The only thing on your side was that they were covered in armor. It meant you were able to reach the dragon cave that remained unguarded. It was was left unguarded for a reason. Because none would ever dream of challenging The Cannibal. For a moment you looked at the dark passage, and then looked back. You could hear them calling out. "I've come this far." And with that, you headed in.

The first few steps plunged you into pitch black. The air tasted stale and the rocks threatened to rip open your feet. Most dragon caves were well maintained, but even dragon-keepers would not dare go near this one. A few steps later and a few crack in the walls gave light. Step by step you walked forward. Now you could smell it and it nearly made you gag. But you had come so far that to turn back now was not an option. You heard a deep rumbling and stopped. Even the foundations of this cave seemed to hum. When the noise stopped you proceeded. Ahead you saw the tunnel end. Finally you met The Cannibal.

Despite the dragons infamy few could describe it. In fact many did not survive such an encounter. And it was enormous. Only slightly smaller that Vhagar, The Cannibal turned his head and mad poisonous green eyes met yours. Dragon eyes had always fascinated you. They held this terrifying imperious gaze. But when you looked into The Cannibal's all you saw was a wild raging fire. You had heard of Wildfire, created by the lords of Old Valyria to mimic dragon fire. While you had never seen wild fire, you thought his eyes might be close enough. Dragon scales came in all colours, but black was rare. The only other dragon known to possess such a colour was Balerion the Black Dread. Smooth pitch black scales glistened in the sunlight. His great jaw had uncountable razor sharp teeth larger than you. The large tale swung around and The Cannibals body was facing you. Then he opened his mouth and fire curled at the throat.

"I will die." In that moment you felt fear and rage. You were as good as the rest of them. Why should you not have a dragon! “Dohaerās, Cannibal! Lykirī!” Those were the only words you could say. Something akin to fire swelled within you at that moment. A defiance bordering on madness. The fire in The Cannibal's seemed ready to burst forward. "Lykirī!" You thought those would be your last words. It was not fear you felt in that moment, but the desire to prove something "At least I tried, like a true Targaryen." The blast of white hot flame which would encase and disintegrate your body never came. Your eyes met his. The Cannibal was looking down at you with his imperious glance. Was he not going to burn you?

That was when you heard voices. It seemed the guards had decided to go in. Better to perish in dragon fire than whatever your mother might do to them for failing to protect her only daughter. Then you stepped forward. Now was not the time to be afraid. Already you had braved possible dragon fire. Over rock and bits of bone you stepped, ignoring the stinging in your feet. From The Cannibal was a ladder attached to a harness. "So The Cannibal once had a rider." At that moment you did not ponder too much. They said The Cannibal had never been ridden before. But since his very being was a mystery you supposed it was possible.

Scrambling up the rough ropes you desperately hurried to the top. "There she is! She's...she's on the dragon!" The Cannibal jerked back nearly sending you flying off. "Daor!" You ordered loud as possible. To your astonishment the dragon listened. Reaching the top you fastened the harness, securing you in place. The Cannibal seemed to know what you wanted, for the moment you were settled the dragon gave a great huff and speed down the corridor. Every jut of his muscle sent you roughly inching forward. "This is much more uncomfortable than I thought." You always imagined dragon riding as a smooth ride. But now you realized that was untrue. Then what would flying be like? You barely had any time to comprehend anything before sunlight was visible. The Cannibal then picked up speed. Suddenly The Cannibal launched into the air with a great jerk. Had you not been harnessed in you would have fallen. His leathery wing beat the air as the ground became smaller.

You would have smiled if it had not been for the fact your voice has disappeared. The thrill, terror and excitement nearly paralyzed you. The Cannibal was not going up smoothly. The dragon seemed to be doing his best in order to shake you off. Despite this the harness was well made, and thank the gods. You had just enough sense to seize the reins and pull at them. It did nothing to slow The Cannibal down but you were suddenly possessed with a renewal in courage. Sitting straight in your saddle there was suddenly a level of control you felt. The Cannibal must have felt it, for he leveled himself. Soaring above the clouds you finally looked down. "We really are close to the Gods." You muttered.

You flew several laps in the sky. It was less about commands and more about the connection between dragon and rider. You had to remain in control of your emotions. Not being used to dragon riding, your legs started to cramp. Deciding it was time to descend you ordered The Cannibal down. Surprisingly graceful, The Cannibal started to climb down. His cave became more clear. A crowd was gathering outside of the cave. You were not too surprised since they probably thought you dead. With a great thud The Cannibal landed sending sand into the air.

"Y/n!" You had never heard your mother scream like that. Practically leaping off the rope ladder you flew into your mothers arms. "Oh Gods Y/n!" Rhaenyra clutched you close with shaking arms. You mother who was usually so indomitable and strong was shaking and weeping. Her arms held you in a vise grip. "Y/n...never do that again!" Rhaenyra had broken apart, gripping you by the arms. Normally you would bust into tears and apologize. But a fire was ablaze in your chest was burning bright. Taking your mother by the hand you lead her to The Cannibal. Rhaenyra looked hesitant but seeing your determination encouraged her. Reaching out you placed a hand on The Cannibals warm scales. "Touch him." Rhaenyra's fingertips grazed the dragon. Then she steadied and placed her hand directly on the dragon. The Cannibal crooned and for the first time seemed something close to calm.

Looking back you saw your brothers, aunt and uncles. There was pride such as you had never seen on your brother's faces. Your eyes met Aegon's and Aemond's, for the first time you did not look away. This time it was them who looked away from your defiant eyes. You were Y/n Velaryon. Daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Rider of Cannibal. And fire dwelt within your veins like any blood of the dragon.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Taglist:

@katiekatluvz

[nebulaafterdark]

The Succession (Pt 5)

Summary: After the battle of Rook’s Rest, Queen Y/N is forced to rule alongside Prince Regent Aemond, in an attempt to keep her children safe and eventually seat her mother, Rhaenyra, on the throne. While attending her husband, on what appears to be his deathbed, she begins to unravel the dark truth of his near passing.

Warning: Suggestive language

Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon (Strong!Reader)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“You do not understand,” Y/N protests. “I need to see my brother, he must be tended first. If he dies, my mother will kill me.”

“If you die, the King shall kill us.” The grand maester taps her chin. “Let’s see the damage.”

Y/N moves her hand from her shoulder. “How bad is it?”

The maester begins cutting away surrounding fabric to reveal the extent of her wound. An open, oozing gash, torn clean from one side through the another.

Alicent rushes in, “what have you done?” She demands.

“Aemond is dead.” Y/N whispers, “I killed him.”

“I meant to yourself, what have you done to yourself?” Alicent demands.

“He stabbed me, and he fell.”

“What of the dragons?”

“Baela and Moondancer are searching for Jaecerys and Vermax. Vhagar is dead, as best I can tell.”

Alicent holds a hand to her head.

“Mayhaps you might look in on my husband?” Y/N says, “tell him I am well and that I love him.”

“You expect me to lie to my injured son?”

“Only the first part would be untrue.” Y/N arches a brow.

“Drink this, your grace. For the pain.” The maester presents her a black vile, milk of the poppy. “We’re going to pack the wound.”

Y/N’s eyes widen, “why?”

“I fear the blade must’ve twisted, your grace. The area has been gouged clean. There is not enough flesh for a stitch to hold.”

“Seven hells,” Y/N grimaces, chugging it down.

Even milk of the poppy does little to dull the pain as they begin pressing against the wound. Her screams can be heard echoing the Red Keep for less than a minute, before she faints.

————————————————————————-

“And now I need you to wake, sister.” A voice says, reaching Y/N in her dreamless sleep.

“Jace, she needs time.”

“There is no time.”

Y/N groans, willing her eyes to open.

Jacaerys pats the side of her face, “there you are.”

“You’re alive?” Y/N croaks out, blinking at him in the dim light.

“As are you.” Her brother says, simply, “at present Daemon’s army is marching on us from Harrenhal and mother is on her way for the throne.”

“That is no matter,” Y/N says, “we were only ever holding it for her.”

Baela looks to her betrothed.

“Sister,” he takes her hand, “what is expected of our mother now…to truly seize power, you understand what it would cost?”

“Aegon is in no state to bend the knee, I’m sure if I could speak with her-”

“I fear there may be no chance, if you, yourself, do not provide a show of strength.”

“Helaena has Dreamfyre and I have Stormborn, my children’s dragons are small. Sunfyre is gone.” Y/N reminds them.

“You’ve Vermax and Moondancer.”

Y/N looks to her brother.

“We will stand with you.” Baela assures her.

“Against our mother, you will stand with me?”

“Surely you have not done this for a crown, which would’ve been yours in time. You have done it for Aegon.” Jace sighs, “he is an idiot, but from what I understand, he loves and cares for you.”

“He does,” Y/N nods.

“He has been in talks with our mother for some time, attempting to make terms. That is why he lies injured.” Jace tells her, “his raven did not arrive in time and Rhaenys thought it an attack levied against her. Still I do not wish for his head.”

“Do you think she would do it?” Y/N wonders, “kill him in front of me?”

“You have not seen her these past weeks, since Luce’s death, I cannot say what she’ll do.” Jace loves his mother, fiercely, but he loves his sister too.

“We can anticipate even less of my father’s movements,” Baela admits. “He’s not returned to Dragonstone in nearly as long.”

“I hope to resolve this peacefully.”

“I do not believe our mother thirsts for Aegon’s blood, this is merely a precaution.” Jacaerys tells her. “You must dress, prepare the dragons and the King’s Guard, we do not have much time.”

“We will also raise the smallfolk, they will stand with us.” Y/N says, crying out as she sits upright. “And Aemond’s body, make sure it’s found. I plan to make a gift of it to our mother.”

Jacaerys nods, taking Baela’s hand and setting off to their tasks.

Chérie comes to dress her, pulling out the red dress Rhaenyra gifted her daughter as a symbol of solidarity on the day of Lucerys’ petition. A show of force against the Hightowers, even as she stood beside them.

Y/N shakes her head. “Bring me the green dress.”

Chérie swallows hard, “at once, your grace.”

The green dress is arguably the most beautiful gown she owns. A gold hand embroidered tapestry over emerald green satin. A wedding gift from Aegon. She’s never worn it, save for his rooms upon request, or to have it fitted after the births of their children. This day she stands for her husband and his house. This day she wears Hightower green.

She passes her husband’s apartments on her way to the throne room, turning the knob with familiarity. “Where are the children?”

Aegon looks to her, “in with the maids, shrouded by guards, my darling. I’ve just had the wounds dressed, I did not want them to see.”

Y/N nods, “of course.”

“You are a sight for sore eyes,” Aegon smiles.

Y/N shifts between feet. “Thank you, my love. I am headed to the throne room to meet with my mother and discuss terms of the succession.”

Aegon holds a hand out to her, “come.”

Y/N closes the distance between them, lacing their fingers together as she stands at the side of his bed.

“If her only want is my head, let her have it.”

“What?” Y/N reels back, “no.”

“Hush now and listen,” he insists. “My body is broken, the maesters say I will never be whole. You will be free to remarry-”

“Stop it.”

“A fitting father for our children.” Aegon continues, “so long as I live, I will only stand in your way.”

“No,” Y/N tears her hand away from him, “you’re wrong.”

“I say this out of love,” he insists.

“No harm will come to you. Those are my terms, I present my mother with the throne, and the body of the man who killed her child. I offer her the peace I have made and all the good with it. It is nonnegotiable.”

“It needn’t be this way,” Aegon tells her.

“You’re mine, Aegon.” Y/N insists, “my husband, my confidant, my dearest friend. You are still all of those things to me, however many times I need say it, however many years it takes for you to believe me, I have time. We have time.”

Aegon sighs, “I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you.”

“A punishment for something, surely.” Y/N lets out a laugh.

Aegon shakes his head, “a gift from the gods.”

Y/N presses a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll be back.”

“I will be here.”

Y/N closes the doors to her husband’s chambers behind her. “Stay with my husband.” She orders Cole, waiting to collect her in the hallway.

“Your grace, I am needed at your side.” He says.

“No, you will stay here and defend my fucking husband as though your life depends on it, and best believe it does.”

————————————————————————

Rhaenyra meets Daemon along the gates of the Red Keep. The streets are lined with smallfolk and the occasional yellow cloak, clearing a path for them.

Aegon the fourth begins to fuss in his grandsire’s arms.

“I’ll take him,” Rhaenyra offers. The babe quiets almost instantly.

“He well and truly does not like me.”

Rhaenyra only laughs. “It happens that way sometimes, I’m afraid. Though it may help if you smile.”

Daemon scoffs.

The line of bystanders continues down to the throne room, where Jacaerys and Baela stand on either side of Y/N, at the iron throne.

“This is quite the battalion you’ve assembled, daughter.” Rhaenyra remarks, “do you plan to challenge my claim?”

“Not in the least,” Y/N assures her. “I should like nothing more than to see you sit this throne. But I do have terms of my own.”

“Let’s hear them.”

“First and foremost, the guaranteed safety of Aegon and our children.”

“And what of Aemond?” Rhaenyra wonders.

“Bring him,” Y/N says, to the guards.

Daemon watches as a large black sack is carted in and laid at Rhaenyra’s feet.

“I slain him myself, with the help of my brother and his betrothed.” Y/N tells them, “you may see for yourself. Though I must warn you, he fell from the sky. The sight is not a pretty one.”

Daemon is the one to tear back the fabric and confirm that it is, in fact Aemond. Nodding to his wife.

“What other terms do you have?” Rhaenyra asks.

“Alicent, Helaena and her children.” Y/N swallows, “I wish for their safety as well.”

Rhaenyra pauses, as if to consider.

“You should also know that these guards and the smallfolk which line our halls are here for me. In my name, for my claim, not Aegon’s. The White Hart appeared for me; they follow me.”

“And who do you serve?”

“You, mother. Same as I always have.”

“You will bend the knee?” Rhaenyra purses her lips.

“Now, if it pleases you.” Y/N assures her, “so long as my terms are met.”

Rhaenyra nods, “very well. I should like to be crowned in the dragon pit, where I will reaffirm your title as my heir.”

Y/N takes a deep breath as she rises, approaching her mother and taking Aegon IV in her arms. “Thank you, my Queen.”

“Mother.” Rhaenyra corrects her, gently.

————————————————————————

Over the next weeks, Aegon grows tired of lying about. His unlikely budding friendship with Lord Larys seems to be the culprit.

Y/N is halfway to Aegon’s bedchamber when she hears his pained cries. Rushing in to find him collapsed on the floor.

“I can’t, I can’t.” Aegon protests as the grand maester attempts to bring him upright.

“I am so sorry, your grace.” Orwyle apologizes.

“Leave him.” Y/N shoos him away, “leave him.”

“Your grace,” the maester sighs, allowing Aegon to rest against the floor, “I must get him back to bed.”

“I will do it.” Y/N shakes her head.

“My Princess, surely with your injuries you cannot.”

“If I should need your assistance I will call upon you, Grand Maester. At present, I require a quiet word with my husband.”

The maester nods, “yes, your grace.”

Y/N waits until the doors close behind him to address her husband. “Aegon, I know how dearly you desire to walk again. But it has been but a moon turn since you arrived here in such a state they could not say if you would live. You must remain abed.”

“You did not marry a crippled man.” Aegon bites out, bitterly. “I did not father children as a crippled man.”

“You did not marry me with one arm that may never rise above my head or a scar across my face.” Y/N reminds him.

“My cock is ruined, did I tell you that?” Aegon laments, “it is burnt and disgusting, they do not believe it will rise.”

Y/N sighs, lying down at his side, “allow me to worry about that.”

“It is not you.” Aegon explains, “my love, I cannot bear to look upon my own reflection. I do not know the man staring back at me.”

“I hear your words, husband. You are entitled to this grief. But you needn’t punish yourself for it, nor face it alone. We will fight this battle together, as man and wife.”

“It is difficult for me, allowing you to see me in this state of disrepair, I am…they tell me I will never be whole.”

“My heart aches for you,” Y/N tells him, “but I do not pity you. I believe in you.”

Aegon nods, “you’ve no idea how much it pleases me to hear you say this.”

“You are different, I will not deny this. But different needn’t always be a bad thing. However different our circumstances, I can appreciate the distaste for one’s own reflection. I have felt it most my life, I do not look the part of a Targaryen Princess.”

Aegon exhales, looking to his wife. “You are devastatingly beautiful, the fact that you cannot see it is a tragedy all its own.”

“I love this body because you are in it, not the other way round. When you are no longer in pain, we’re going to train your cock, like a dragon to heel.” Y/N points a finger toward it. “Dohaeris, Rȳbās,” serve, obey.

“Ow, fuck,” Aegon protests clutching his side as he laughs.

Y/N covers her mouth to stop her own outburst.

By the time the Grand Maester rushes in, they are curled up on the floor, cackling like animals and holding their wounds. “Your graces!”

Aegon mutters to his wife, some form of gibberish, only she seems to understand.

Nodding as she chokes out, “lykiri.” Be calm. Sending them into such a state the Grand Maester simply excuses himself, without another word.

“Is everything alright?” Alicent asks, standing with a hand to her heart just beyond the door.

He smiles, “the road ahead is long and painful, but his grace laughs. He has joy.”

“And Y/N?” Alicent wonders, “how is she?”

“The wound is clean but slow to heal.”

“Is the arm lost to her?” Will it move?

“There will be pain, but it moves even now.” He rests a hand on Alicent’s shoulder, “better days in due time, your grace.”

Series Taglist: @oh-you-mean-me @barnes70stark @lovelyteenagebeard @niyahnotnia @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @callsignwidow @hyde-jpg @novelswithariana @klutzylaena @ynbutbetter @ravenqueen27 @danart501 @woodlandwrites @saraiadg @tempo-rary-fix @lxdyred @supernaturalstilinski @httpvomitello @dd122004dd @shadowrose13-blog1 @dracaryxzs @magictrump @vee-mage @mrs-starkgaryen @labellapeaky @multifandom-loser @minttea07 @blackdiamond2317 @baybaybear1 @tea-effect @heavenly1927 @sabyreads @champomiel @8812-342

[humongouscatfan]

Disclaimer: @hezikas you told me to steal your concept and so I did. Jokes aside, everyone check out the wonderful blog that gave me this idea in the first place.

HOTD meets To All The Boys I Loved Before.

I Like Me Better When I Am With You (Prologue):

Your POV:

Secrets are bad for the soul. They corrupt, twist and ruin. You remember you had read that in a book once. But surely there had to be some exceptions, right?

Well, even if there weren't, some stuff you would prefer to keep locked away from plain sight. Starting with the box hidden beneath your bed.

You have never told anyone about it. Your dearest secret. Your love letters.

Every once in a while, when you were certain no one was around, you would take the box out from underneath your bed and look over them.

The ink on the rosy paper brought you a strange sense of relief. It was difficult to have such strong emotions pounding in tiur chest and not be able to scream them out for the world to hear. Being able to get the words across, even if they weren't addressed to the one who should be hearing them, was liberating.

There were three letters. One for each crush you have ever had.

Your eyes first wander towards the letter shaped like a heart. On the outside of the pink letter, the words "From Y/N to Jace Velaryon" were etched in red ink.

Your heart fluttered as your next door neighbour came to mind. His dark eyes, his strong jaw, that chiseled-.

You decided to cut yourself off there.

Jace had been your first ever crush. You met him when you were both twelve. He had moved across the street with his mom, siblings, step siblings and step dad. You had been standing out in your front yard when your eyes met and you felt your heart drop to your knees.

You had lovely dreams of playing house and getting married and having brown haired babies. None of that came true obviously. You were far too awkward to approach him and he did not take any interest in you aside from the occassional politeness. You had been distraught for the longest time over your unreciprocated crush.

And then he came.

If Jace was your first crush, Aegon was your first desire. You had met him in summer camp. You were getting guitar lessons and he was one of the older kids there. On the first day, he had waltzed into class late, shirt half-unbuttoned, hair messy and unruly, a lazy smile on his lips, and he has plagued your dreams ever since.

In an instant you had swapped your hopeless crush with an even more impossible crush. Because while Aegon had a reputation for sleeping with anything that has two legs and a pair of boobs, he has never even so much as glanced your way.

So ever since you have spent your summers, watching him from a distance as he bangs his way through the campus.

Your eyes wandered over to the letter you had devoted to him. This one was written in green ink and if anyone ever got their hands on it, you would die on the spot.

You had written some very... naughty stuff there.

Finally, there was Aemond. Your fingers tenderly grasped the edges of the letter. This one was written in black.

After your series of impossible crushes, you figured that maybe you should just go on with your life, get some new hobbies. And that is how you joined the book club.

What you had not expected was for Mr. Tall, Brooding and Gorgeous to walk in. The moment he hummed softly along to a comment you had made about a book, you knew you were so far gone.

He was intelligent and well-spoken and he held himself with such confidence and grace, it was impossible to look away.

You had heard people in the halls whisper about the eye he kept hidden away behind that eye patch. Some claimed he had a horrible scar beneath. You could not imagine any universe where Aemond would be anything close to ugly

You yourself often wondered what lay beneath. You wanted to see his face bare and whole.

Out of all your crushes, Aemond was by far the most unapproachable. He was distant and withdrawn, preferring to keep to himself.

Still, your cheeks heat up every time his eyes met yours.

You sigh. What is with you and always liking guys that were miles above your league? Is this some strange sort of masochism? And why are so many of them blonde?

You are so lost in your thoughts that you do not register the sound of the door creaking open.

"What are you doing?" Rhaena's voice breaks you out of your musings.

You have never moved quicker in your life. You shove the box beneath your bed again and get on your feet.

"Nothing," you blurt out.

Rhaena looks you up and down. Then she shifts her gaze to your bed.

"What are you hiding?" she asks again and steps closer.

Panic is building up in your chest as you look for any way out.

"What are you all doing up there?" Baela shouts at you from downstairs "The pizza came."

Never in your life have you felt so grateful. First thing tomorrow you are starting a religion devoted to this girl.

Fortunately, the promise of hot cheese melting against her tongue is distraction enough for Rhaena and you both make your way out. You let out a sigh, reassured that your secret letters are safe.

The rest of the sleepover goes by smoothly. You play games, exchange gossip and munch on some snacks. With schools and finals coming up, it has been a while since you last all got together and hang out. Baela fills you in on how her soccer practice is going and you promise to go on her next match. Rhaena talks about her upvoming art project. Then, Baela drops the bomb. A mischievious glint burns in her eyes as she parts her lips open.

"You know Rhaena has a little crush," she grins.

Rhaena gives her sister the most horrified look and buries her head on the couch pillow she is holding.

"Shut up!" she exclaims.

"Really? On who?" you ask curiously.

"No one!" Rhaena yells at the same time as Baela speaks the name "Luke,"

Your eyes widen and you turn to Rhaena who looks like she wants the earth to swallow her whole.

"Oh, that could get ugly,"

Baela rolls her eyes.

"You all are making too big a deal out of this. We are not even related,"

"Oh easy for you to say! You are not the one crushing on Jace or something like that!"

Rhaena's eyes burn. She throws the pillow down on the floor in frustration and gets off the couch. Before you can move to stop her, she has rushed off upstairs.

You glance at Baela.

"I think that was a bit much," you say.

"She is just being dramatic," Baela argues "She will be over it in a minute. You will see."

Rhaena did not get over it in a minute. A little later, she stormed down, bag thrown over her shoulders and left to go home. You text her throughout the night, but she just ignores you.

Baela leaves soom after. Though she might act a bit rough at times, she loves her sister and is obviously worried for her.

Laying on bed that night, you can't get rid off the feeling that something is wrong.

Finally, the next morning, Rhaena responds to you with a single sentence.

I am sorry.

You heave a sigh of relief.

No, I am sorry. Beala and I shouldn't have pushed you

Her next message causes you much confusion.

No, you don't get it. I did something really bad

You blink down at the screen, confused. Before you can respond, she sends another text.

Please, don't be mad

Just then your doorbell rings.

[blondiebabes]

My Dear Nephew

*Requested* sub!Jaecerys x Dom!Reader. reader is older than Jaecerys. repeated as with Deamon and Rhaenyra. jaces aunt takes him to the silk streets and takes away his virginity in a brothel. this was originally gonna be longer but i lost motivation. lmk if you guys want a pt 2

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You sipped your wine reveling at the effect you had on your dear nephew. He was stuttering while trying to talk to his cousin, Baela, your hand running up and down his thigh becoming increasing brave.

You had clocked his infatuation with you as soon as you reunited after his time on Dragon Stone. The first you saw of him after his arrival entailed you approaching him and him unable to meet your eyes settling for glancing between his hands and your bosom. Then you decided you would do whatever it took to make him yours. He was too sweet and innocent for you to allow him to roam free. You're his aunt it's your job to keep him safe, and you intend to keep your title as a loving aunt.

Your hand had just reached to skim over the top of his bulge when your brother, Aegon, had pushed Jacaerys too far. Jace shot up, your hand falling down, pushed back his chair and started to charge his uncle. You rolled your eyes and finished your goblet of wine slammed it back on the table, stood and walk out. You walked until you met the door of you chambers.

As you stepped in you headed straight to the bath for a much needed soak. As you lay in the bath, the water near scalding, you thought more about your nephew, and his relationship with his cousin Baela. You felt the curl of jealousy deep in your body at the memory of Jace desiring her company instead of yours.

Stepping up and out of bath you decided to do something about it before you lost him to her. You dismissed your maids and guards, donning peaseant clothes you went throught the hall until you found the painting of Aegon the Conqueror. You grasped the right side of the frame pulles and it swung open like a door.

You quickly stepped through the hole, closed the painting, and made your way through the tunnels. You had memorized the tunnels long ago because you and your brother Aegon loved to explore them as children. After seven turns you reached the painting you were searching for. Steading your beating heart you took a breath and slowly cracked the painting. You saw Jace sitting in his bead looking at the ceiling, he was alone in his room.

Smiling you fully pushed open the secret door and stepped inside.

"Aunt what are you doing here? Jace asked sitting up and looking around the room alarmed by you rentrence.

"Do I need a reason to spend time with my precious nephew?" You asked stalking closer to him like a wolf on the prowl.

Sensing his lack of words you spoke. "Well I have a reason anyway, we need to talk about your crush on me." You closed the space between you two and took a seat next to him. Jace began to deny your words so you placed a hand over his mouth and continued. "Theres no use in denying it, it is plain to see. I came here to say I feel the same. And I intend to do something out our feelings." You removed your hand from his face.

"Do what?" Jace asked looking suprised and embaressed at once. "Do you trust me?" You ask putting your hand on his upper thigh, just as it had been during dinner. "Um, yes." Jace mumbled looking at your hand.

"Perfect." You said jumping up. you handed him a set of peaseant clothes and instructed him to put them on. He started to question you but stopped after you sent him a look. He emerged from behind his closet no longer looking the the Prince, but a common person.

You dragged him through the secret tunnels and the two of you emerged outside the castle. You guided him throyugh flea bottom to the brothel your brother Aegon spoke fondly of. While walking Jace seemed to try and look everywhere at once. it was obvious he had never been on the streets of kings landing before.

"So Jace. have you ever fucked a girl before?" You question trying to sound calm as to not startle him.

He stopped walking immediately. "What no. Of course not, it is unbecoming of a prince." He replied turning to look at you. "Have you?" He asked suprised and possibly scared of the answer. "No I have not fucked a girl." You reply with a teasing smile. You grab him hand and continue to drag him through the crowded dirty streets. When you reached your destination you took a moment to ensure that your telltale hair was hidden beneath your hood.

You opened the door to the brothel and pulled Jace in. Immediately you two were both hit with a wave of the scent of perfume and the sound of moans. A quick look at Jace told you he had never witnessed anything like this before. You allowed him a moment to collect himself before guiding him to a somewhat secluded corner in the communal area. You placed him with his back aginst the wall and you infront somewhat hiding him from view.

"Well, what do you think of my surprise." You ask putting your mouth to his ear and nibbling on it. Jace jerks and it causes his bulge to press into your stomach. You cup his dick with you hands accepting his low moan as an answer. You place his hands on your body, one on you waist, the other you guide under your shirt up to you breast. Jace looks at you in wonder while rolling your nipple inbetween his fingers. You slide your hand in his pants while he's distraced and pull his cock up so it tucks inbetween his waistband and stomach. Jace lets his head fall back aginst the wall as you take his weeping tip into your fingers. You rub his slit with your thumb, while getting on your knees infront of him. He looks at you with wide eyes after realizing what your about to do. You look up at him throught you eye lashes and pull his pants down to his ankles.

His dick slaps you in the cheek and you grab it with a smile keeping eye contact. You put you lips on it and swirl your tongue around the tip. You watch his eyes roll back in his head and the two of you are in you rown world until you hear a whistle directed at you and Jace. Jace seemingly remembering where the two fo you are goes ridgid and pulls your mouth off his dick. You stand up while jace is hurridly fixing his pants.

"Ignore them Jace, they are just here for a show." You whisper in his ear positioning yourself so Jace cant see the man who was making noises at the two of you.

"Well I dont want to be a show for them." Jace replies angrly. An idea hits you and you pull a hesitant jace back to the entrance of the brothel. You approach a working girl and toss her a couple gold coins in exchange for her best private room. She leads you and Jace there, and leaves without a word.

You let jace confirm that the room is empty and away from prying ears and eyes.

You walk to the bed in the center of the room and begin to take your boots and hood off. Jace stands there watching you, he moves towards you after you beckon him.

@antohfbjuh

[pearl-nouveau]

A Woman's Purpose - Cregan Stark x Reader [chapter two]

summary: After your grandsire's death, you fly to Winterfell with Jacaerys and find yourself nervous to treat with Cregan years after your heated moment together.

warnings: none i think

a/n: short chapter, just felt like a good stopping point. anyone want part three,,,?🤗

The actions of Alicent and her eldest son did not shock me, but they deeply wounded a sense of hope that I hadn't realized was still deep within my soul. I would always remember Cregan praising my kind heart, but sometimes it felt like a curse. I had believed at my core that our family could find it within themselves to forgive, to come together, to support my grandsire's wishes and put a woman on the Iron Throne... I had believed that Alicent had a spine, that Aemond had humility, that Aegon had a heart. And Heleana, my poor, dear aunt whom I considered a close friend - it pained me to think of her caught in the center of such a mess. I longed to see her and I longed to see my mother on her throne. 

I thought back to the dinner we had before leaving for Dragonstone again. We had been merry, since Jaecerys and Lucerys were newly engaged. I was happy for Jace especially since we had talked so often of hoping for happy marriages, and Baela was a wonderful girl who he already adored. It pleased me that there was a possibility for love between the two of them. 

Aegon had drunkenly wandered to my seat and leaned towards my ear. 

"Poor niece... Your only purpose to be married off and still yet to be engaged. You'll be running out of options soon." 

His amusement sickened me and I continued to pick at my food, trying to ignore him, but he continued. 

"If you don't pick you'll end up with some elderly lord with a thumb for a pecker. Best swallow your pride and pick someone to claim you. Can't be your own woman forever, girl." His breath reeked of alcohol. 

Jacaerys had noticed his advances and stood to intervene, only for Aegon to direct his attention towards Baela, which began a whole other mess leading to the night quickly unraveling. 

It had made you think about marriage, not only as a duty, but as a tool. It had always been an important fixture in politics, but after everything that has happened with the throne, I knew that it would be even more urgent for me to take a husband. I lay in my bed at Dragonstone, resting my eyes, considering the current predicament of betrothal.

When it came down to it, there was no one I wanted to imagine myself marrying except for the Northern man who had captured my heart so many years ago. I feared, however, that it was too late. I had already refused him, in a way, one time. In addition, I had humiliated myself with his advances and then fled. He very well may hate me; find me to be a tease, a whore. I shuddered to think about it. 

At that moment, Jacaerys barged into my room. 

"Sister," breathlessly he addressed me, "mother has requested us to go to Winterfell and treat with Cregan Stark." 

There was a hint of a smile on his face, although we both knew the task was serious. I had no immediate response to him, so he elaborated.

"I suggested that you come. I believe you should see him. Besides, it is the perfect excuse to go."

I turned away, suddenly emotional. I wiped at my face. "Perhaps he has already taken a new wife," I shook my head. "We only need one representative of the crown."

"You're coming," He said finally. I realized it was no longer a request, but an order.

"Does mother know?"

He shook his head. "This is for you to figure out. No interferences." I raised an eyebrow at him. "Except for mine, right now. I would hope that if we are to enter the Hell of war we can find at least some happiness within the chaos."

His words made me want to weep, realizing how much he has grown and how much more he will have to in the coming years. How much all my siblings would grow. I feared for the lives of my loved ones. Instinctively, I reached for my brother and pulled him to me. He hugged me back tightly. 

"It'll all be okay, little dragon," his old nickname for me made me chuckle into his shoulder, "tomorrow, we ride for Winterfell."

That night, I dreamt of Cregan. Brief, hazy glimpses of moments we shared in the past. Moments that made me fall in love with him. 

I saw him poised in front of Vermithor, no fear in those stormy eyes, his hand outstretched to stroke my beautiful dragon's scaled face. He had respected the authority of my beast, and Vemithor in turn had leaned into the Lord's touch. That moment had brought heat to my stomach and tugged at my insides. The Bronze Fury was not easy to befriend. 

I saw him across the altar in the sept where I took him on a tour, his head bent in prayer, dark hair framing his face. He had caught my eye and held it, unblinking, keeping it until I looked away.

I saw in the golden hour in the training yard, his gaze finding me between every attack. He moved like ice against his sparring partners: cold, calculated, hardened. No one bested him. When we walked to dinner together afterward, he walked behind me, and I had suddenly felt a tug at my hair. He gently pulled the ribbon holding my braid together - a braid commanded by my mother - letting my hair fall down my back. I like it down like this, he told me, wild and free, like you. 

Morning was unwelcome because it ripped me from the warmth of my dreams with him, but the realization that I was soon to be headed for Winterfell thrilled me. I quickly dressed and packed with my handmaidens before finding Jacaerys in the hallway. He said nothing, grasping my hand and nodding solemnly. We moved to the dragon pit together and prepared Vermax and Vermithor. When we exited the cave, I saw my mother and younger siblings watching on from above. 

"We should say our goodbyes," I told Jacaerys, "the Gods only know when the next time we will all be together is."

Jace nodded, and we joined with the rest of our family. I kissed each of the little ones on the forehead, pinched their cheeks, sniffed their baby skin, making every attempt to remember them as they were in case I was struck from the back of my dragon. Lucerys stood tall when I came to him, like the proud little fighter he was, and I gave him a tight hug and a squeeze of luck for his own journey. I worried for him dearly, but Lucerys was perhaps the most smart and capable of us Valeryen children, even at his young age.

"Good luck, raqiarzy," I spoke into his hair. He was nearly as tall as me at that point. "I shall see you soon."

My mother gazed at me with that look she always wore as I moved to stand in front of her. So diplomatic, so very regal. Sometimes I wished she would soften and just be my mother for a moment. But now, finally involved in diplomacy, who was I to her? Still her daughter, or some cancerous growth jeopardizing her claim?

I felt her arms around me. "Be safe," she whispered into my ear, "I love you, my daughter."

Tears filled my eyes and I hugged her back. I thought about all of our fights about my marriage. Who was I truly fighting? We were both shackled by tradition, still, I realized. Her claim had been an abstract future and now it had all come crashing down. She was still fighting the same battles against men that she believed to have won as a girl my own age. None of our past disagreements mattered now. Happiness and freedom were no longer mine to take for myself; they may be ripped from us all at any moment. 

My mother and I separated and she placed a kiss to my brow. Her stoic demeanor had faded and I could see wetness in her eyes. Jace offered me his arm and I reluctantly took it, turning away from my family and trying not to think about our uncertain future. 

The journey to Winterfell was long and cold, as many journeys on dragonback are, but I was comforted by the presence of Vermax and Jacaerys gliding back and forth below me. Our dragons, very different in size, flew quite differently. Vermax was nimble and slight, disappearing between clouds and darting in and out of sight easily. A formidable stealth opponent. Vermithor, on the other hand, was enormous and flew with simple, powerful strokes of his golden wings. He was fearsome, and I found him to be the most beautiful creature in the world. As terrifying as he was, our bond was strong. He never raised a tone at me; he grumbled and purred in my presence only, and awaited orders with undying loyalty. He had been my dragon since the time I was ten and four, and our relationship only strengthened by the day. 

The sky greyed as we flew further North and the air began to chill. I shivered not only from the cold but the impending reunion I was to have with Cregan. I had no idea what to expect. I had considered opening his letter but it was still too frightening to me. It left me even more unprepared for a conversation with him. 

When we reached Winterfell, Jacaerys and I circled Vermax and Vermithor a few times to signal our landing. We made no sudden moves towards the castle and its surrounding fortress, and landed in an isolated field. The wind whipped my long hair out from the veil I had tied around my head. It floated around my head like a halo as I squinted in the heatless sunlight. 

"Someone rides this way," Jacaerys called from the back of Vermax. He began to disembark and I glanced over to where he looked. A rider on a black horse, eighteen hands tall, came galloping towards our dragons. Vermithor let out a roar of distaste. He didn't like people coming near him - or me. I calmed him with coos in High Valerian and began to slide down his wing. The rider had stopped next to Jace and gotten off the horse.

As I crept closer, I knew it was Cregan. His stature was unmistakable. Tall and dominating against the bleak horizon in his furs. Gods, I had never seen him in his heavy Northern furs. It made me want to crawl within them, to feel the heat of his body around me. Coming closer, I saw him clap Jace on the shoulder with familiarity, and then turn his gaze to me. With no hesitation, he came towards me. I saw behind him Jace getting onto his horse, the ghost of a brotherly smirk on his face, and kicking the horse forward towards Winterfell. 

"What-" I began to question as Cregan came within arm's length of me, unable to finish as he pulled me to his chest in a tight hug. The furs were just as warm as they looked, and I melted into his arms. It had been so long since I smelled him. Like sap and smoke and ale and somehow roses. My arms snaked under the cloak and I could feel the hardened muscle of his body through his shirt. And then I realized - he was hugging me, as if he missed me, as if...

"I've missed you, my princess." He spoke into my hair. 

"You aren't angry with me?" I breathed into his cloak. He pulled back and took my chin in his calloused fingers, his face laced with confusion.

"How could I ever, my girl? You didn't read my letter?"

I flushed. "I was embarrassed. I thought you would have wanted me to keep quiet after I... lost control like that." He barked out a laugh, which would have made her feel ashamed had he not paired it with a gentle kiss to her cheekbone.

"I'll show you what losing control really is, someday," he kissed her cheek again and hummed. "Darling, I wrote you that letter and apologized for leaving so quickly... had it been up to me I would have stayed until you chose to see me again and asked for your hand right there. I had to get home to my son and my duties here but you have never left my head." Now it was his turn to flush as he recounted the contents of his letter. "I... I had begged you to someday consider me to be your husband if you ever found that marriage was something you wanted. None of my advisors could convince me to take another wife until I knew that there was no chance. I have held out hope for years, I have taken no other lover, and I beg you to end my agony and provide an answer," he dropped to his knee as if his body were giving out on him. "Is there a chance? Someday, that you would allow me to love you as I already do?"

It all became clear to me that my world was soon to fall apart, and standing in front of me was a man who was promising to stand by my side in the worst of times. As my family is torn apart and our power in the realm shattered. A smile crossed my face.

"You mean to tell me that the most eligible Northern Lord has been withholding his services from the ladies of the North, all because a faraway dragon rider was stuck in his dreams?" 

My teasing lilt was enough for him to look up at me and grin, standing to his full height towering over me. He grasped at my waist with one hand and cupped my face with the other. 

"They've been left wanting, I suppose." My Lord Stark said contemplatively. 

"As have ladies in the South." I told him, surprised by my own boldness and pleased by the delivery. 

He wasted no more time in capturing my lips, kissing me as if he were starved. He kept taking breaths to stare at me before continuing. His lips moved lovingly across my neck, my jaw, my throat, hungry to taste every inch of skin. After a while, I pressed against his chest and examined his face. It was even more beautiful up close than I remembered. His face an oval with hardened edges. Strong brows and thick pink lips that I was free to kiss. His hair pulled back haphazardly to keep from blowing in the wind. He kissed me one more time, this one softer than baby's breath, and held my head in one of his strong hands before nodding towards Winterfell in the distance.

"I let Jacaerys take my steed so we might walk together." He gestured back to the dragons. "Whatever they eat I will have brought to them."

"They'll eat anything. Even you," I poked his chest. 

"You just tell me if Vermithor ever starts feeling jealous. I shall begin to steer clear." 

We walked together, slowly, catching up after the last couple of years. I asked of his son and he told me that Rickon was nearly three years old. He stopped me for a moment. "I've already an heir. If we wed, I shall not force you to bear my children. You will never be just the mother of my children. You will be my wife." 

I smiled at that, saying nothing. Children hadn't crossed my mind. I supposed I was not ready to think about it. The way he spoke so definitely about our marriage gave me pause. 

"Cregan, I-" my words faltered, but I persisted. "I think you ought to know that I didn't come here just to see you." 

He chuckled. "I figured as such when you brought your brother and two dragons."

I blushed. "We need you and your army to stand by my mother. My uncle has taken her throne. My grandsire's crown was scarcely off his head before Aegon took it. My mother raises an army to stand against him. I am not a bargaining tool, I will not marry you for an army-"

"-I would never presume to trade you like an animal. The North will see your mother, the rightful queen, on her throne, you have my word. I want to marry you because I fell in love with you in King's Landing those years ago, and I wish for you to be free as you want to be. If marrying me is not how you will find your freedom, I will accept your answer." The concept seemed to pain him. 

Would marriage truly shackle me? Being with Cregan felt like being on dragonback for the first time. It felt like gliding over a lake of glass water, your arms outstretched. I had fought and fought for so many years to be free, but free from what? I now saw in front of me a new kind of freedom, away from the clawing hands that surrounded the crown always. I saw a man who chose me and respected my happiness. I looked around at the rolling hills and distant mountains. The cool wind on my face. Bustling people entering and exiting the gates of Winterfell. Perhaps I imagined it, but I heard laughter. Children. I closed my eyes for a moment and felt peace.

I opened them again to see the hopeful face of Cregan Stark awaiting my words. If what he said was true, would he remain here in front of me for the rest of my life, always waiting to grant my next wish?

I smiled. Reached out to him. Snaked my hands around his neck, brought his face close to mine. 

"I choose me," I told him quietly. "So, I choose you."

We sealed the betrothal with a kiss.