#laenor velaryon imagines

[diamantar]

PERLA EN BRUTO

→ Laenor Velaryon x fem!OC

✦ Sinopsis: Gracias a los rumores en Marcaderiva, la recién casada inmediatamente desiste en crear una verdadera relación con su esposo.

Por otro lado, el corazón de Laenor puede que los lleve a nuevos puertos.

✦ Advertencias: Matrimonio arreglado / Fluff

✦ Palabras: 2407

✦ Pedido: Si, de Wattpad.

Erguida junto una de las ventanas del largo pasillo, Rhaenyra observó junto a su mejor amiga como un joven hombre de plateados cabellos reía y posaba un brazo en los hombros de otro muchacho. Ambos tenían las ropas desarregladas y mojadas, claramente volviendo de pescar por las pesadas bolsas de arpillera que sostenían.

—¿Aquel es…? —intentó preguntar la Targaryen.

—Joffrey, el amante —asintió, enseguida suspirando aliviada—. Me alegra que regresaran bien.

—No pareces molesta —reconoció intrigada.

—Prefiero vivir sin amargura —inclinó la cabeza y cruzó los brazos hundiéndose en pensamiento—. Antes del casamiento me advertiste de sus preferencias y pude imaginar el futuro que tendría, así que no es impactante. Además Laenor es increíblemente considerado y amable, tengo suerte de poseer un buen amigo como esposo.

—Desearía tener tu positividad —murmuró Rhaenyra en el proceso de colocar el peso en la cadera izquierda.

—Cuando oyes que hay hombres que golpean, humillan y abusan, ¿cómo podría quejarme? —volteó el rostro con una sonrisa—. ¿Tu padre sigue presionando en que encuentres esposo?

—Cada día. Puede que no lo diga, pero cuando me mira veo la esperanza, ese brillo que suplica que me apresure y reafirme mi herencia al trono —cerró los ojos y abatida la abrazó en busca de consuelo—. Extraño cuando vivías en el castillo como mi dama de compañía, aquellas épocas eran felices.

—Lejos de responsabilidades, cuando las obligaciones irían a un hermano varón que te dejaría libre de hacer lo que quisieras —explicó sabiendo muy bien la verdad atrás del asunto.

—¿Por qué puedes leer a las personas tan bien? —preguntó mientras se alejaba y la sostenía de la cintura, una ligera expresión de berrinche pintando su rostro.

—Te conozco, nada más.

Enganchando brazos abandonaron el puesto y fueron hacia las escaleras principales del castillo. Descendieron y en el camino señaló a la invitada ciertas decoraciones que podrían llamarle la atención, en abajo encontrándose con su suegra y los hombres.

—¿Consiguieron la cena? —bromeó Rhaenyra viendo lo que transportaban.

—Princesa —reverenció Jofrrey mientras Laenor se acercaba animado y tomaba la mano de su esposa.

—Lamento la tardanza, el mar estaba agitado.

—Sé que no hay nadie mejor en el agua que los Velaryon, sin embargo, me preocupé al ver que nubes cubrieron el cielo —dijo afectuosa, tanta cercanía casi quemando las fosas nasales por el olor a pescado.

—Deberían asearse, la peste quedará en nuestras ropas —quejó la joven Targaryen moviendo una mano frente la nariz.

—Tomen la ganancia y preparen los baños —ordenó Rhaenys a los sirvientes presentes.

—Conseguí tu favorito, así que pediré que cocinen el plato que te gusta —informó Laenor antes de alejarse, expectante apreciando la reacción complacida de la chica.

—Gracias, aguardaré ansiosa la cena —prometió inclinándose a besarle la mejilla.

Aquellos gestos eran pan de cada día para mantener las apariencias, aunque el muchacho no dejaba de poner expresión sorprendida cuando en soledad solía poner distancia. Secretamente adoraba ver las reacciones desprevenidas e inocentes, suponía que el afecto le daba timidez, porque entendía que ella no era de preferencia.

—Iré a asearme y continuaré con estudios pendientes, nos vemos en unas horas —despidió el príncipe inclinándose a besarle el dorso de la mano.

Asintiendo y dejándolos libres, Rhaenyra apretó el agarre y la llevó fuera del castillo ignorando como el Caballero Lonmouth codeaba a Laenor y sonreía burlón.

Soportaron el viento y caminaron una considerable distancia hasta la guarida de los dragones, donde la heredera intentó que se familiarizara con Syrax.

—Adora que la acaricien aquí —señaló un grupo de escamas cerca de la barbilla.

—No estoy acostumbrada a pasar tiempo con ellos —comentó en señal de que prefería irse, especialmente cuando Bruma y Meraxes se unieron a la reunión.

—Temer es impropio de una mujer casada con un descendiente Targaryen, los dragones deberían ser aliados y no extraños.

—Fácil decirlo —regañó tocando con duda a la dorada criatura.

—Me ofende que Laenor no se encargara de acercarte a Bruma, es lo mínimo que podría hacer como esposo. ¿Qué pasaría si un día deben huir y su dragón no te acepta?

—Respeta que prefiero mantener distancia, son… mucho para mí.

—La actitud que posees tampoco es adecuada —chasqueó la lengua.

—¿Por qué no buscamos a Laena? —retrocedió empezando a mirar la salida de la cueva con anhelo.

Rodando los ojos, Rhaenyra bufó y la siguió de vuelta. Entre muros se escudaron y aguardaron a la cena, donde la femenina disfrutó lo que el joven Velaryon pescó para ella.

—¿Te gusta? —preguntó expectante después de los primeros bocados.

—Es excelente, gracias por conseguirlo —asintió cubriendo su boca al aún deber terminar de tragar—. Lo aprecio mucho, hacia bastante que no probaba esto.

—Me encargaré de generar reservas, es época —sonrió complacido agarrando el tenedor y continuando la degustación.

—Eres el mejor —halagó contenta enfocándose en los distintos platillos, aunque debajo de la mesa le apretó la rodilla como último agradecimiento.

Laenor apenas se removió en el asiento y miró el mantel con un ligero escalofrío, la zona tocada quedando sensible por largo rato. Laena miró de reojo y Rhaenyra inclinó la cabeza en confusión ante las pequeñas reacciones del chico, aunque terminó por encoger los hombros y conversar con la Velaryon sentada al lado.

—Esta noche… —empezó a decir en tono bajo—. ¿Podrías venir a mis aposentos?

El requerimiento la hizo ahogar y rápido agarró la copa, al beber aliviando el nudo de comida.

—¿Estás bien? —preguntó Corlys.

—Si, lo siento, tragué demasiado rápido —mintió, aunque la pena de interrumpir la cena era real.

—Con cuidado, el pescado no huirá al mar —rió inclinándose a agarrar pan.

Aguardó unos momentos a que el ambiente se estabilizara y luego miró a Laenor, el cual lucía como quien cometió un error. Disimulada llamó su atención y nervioso él aguardó respuesta, con una simple señal informando que iría.

—La noche se podrá fría, usa más ropa —recomendó el muchacho intentando cambiar de tema y huir del momento.

Dándole el espacio que claramente necesitaba, fingió enfocarse en lo servido y silenciosa consideró las distintas posibilidades. Rara vez compartían tiempo fuera del dominio del sol y la sospechosa actitud de Laenor ayudaba a generar las más extrañas ideas, aunque su instinto tenía el particular presentimiento de que nada malo ocurriría.

El tiempo pasó y finalmente tuvieron permiso de levantarse de la mesa, la cena quedando terminada. Abandonaron el salón e intercambiaron palabra con las jóvenes hasta que fueron a sus propias habitaciones, una vez solos él amagando a iniciar conversación cuando Joffrey surgió de las sombras.

—Lamento interrumpir, pero, ¿sería posible robar un poco de su tiempo? —preguntó en referencia al Velaryon.

—¿Puede esperar a mañana?

—No sería lo mejor —reconoció, entonces realizando una pequeña expresión que pareció alertar al hombre de a qué se refería.

—Iré por abrigo y te buscaré en unos momentos, así que hablen —sonrió comprensiva, rápido entendiendo que no debía estar allí.

—Gracias, señorita —reverenció Joffrey.

—Esperaré —aclaró Laenor no queriendo que malinterpretara y abandonara el plan inicial.

Sonriendo cortés los dejó y fue en dirección a donde dormía, una sirvienta hallándola en el camino y siguiéndola.

—Necesito un abrigo, pero nada exagerado —mencionó viendo que la chimenea estaba prendida y la cama aguardando a que la usara.

—Disculpe la intromisión, pero, ¿planea salir? —inquirió yendo al gran armario postrado en un rincón.

—Visitaré a mi esposo.

Evitó mirarla y revisó los libros en el escritorio, el ambiente cambiando a numerosas emociones al aquella ser la primera vez que iría desde la ceremonia matrimonial. Silenciosa levantó los brazos y dejó que la femenina la deslizara dentro de la piel, la nueva capa protegiéndola de los fríos muros. No era usual en ese sector, pero recordaba el camino de cuando Rhaenys le enseñó el lugar, y cuando llegó no le sorprendió hallar al Caballero Lonmouth saliendo de la habitación del príncipe.

—¿Llegué temprano? —preguntó casual manteniendo las manos escondidas en las largas mangas.

—Para nada, querida, ya terminamos de conversar —sonrió Laenor luciendo relajado.

—Gracias por otorgarme este momento. Tengan buena noche —deseó empezando a retirarse.

Nuevamente solos, miró al Velaryon y este hizo un movimiento que la invitaba a ingresar. Por primera vez puso pie en los aposentos del heredero de Marcaderiva y enseguida absorbió cada detalle, especialmente la caña rota que colgaba enmarcada en una pared.

—Recuerdo de mi primer gran pesca, tuve el botín pero acabó con mis instrumentos.

—Debió ser un animal gigante.

—Absolutamente, terminé utilizando una lanza para obtener el enorme pez una vez que se quebró la madera.

—¿Continúas buscando desafíos?

—En lo posible. La adrenalina que aparece cuando surge el tire y afloja revitaliza el espíritu. Es una buena sensación, mejora mi humor cuando un supuesto día ordinario trae tal sorpresa.

—Has pasado mucho tiempo en el mar durante las últimas semanas, ¿has hallado aquella agitación? —indagó queriendo entender lo que le gustaba.

—A decir verdad… De eso te quería hablar —aclaró la garganta regresando a la actitud tímida de la cena.

—¿Qué pasó?

Laenor inspiró y volteó a buscar una bolsa de terciopelo azul, cordones dorados cerrando el extremo que no estaba cocido.

—Últimamente mis viajes no son a razón de un reto marítimo, más bien a causa de un duelo personal.

—Lamento no entender a qué te refieres —cruzó los brazos e inclinó la cabeza, ocasionalmente viendo el objeto que sostenía.

—Nuestro matrimonio es un arreglo, pero en estos meses he desarrollado afecto por ti. Sé que no hemos pasado demasiado tiempo juntos y parece irrazonable, aún así… apreciaría que consideraras mis sentimientos y pudiéramos tener una mejor relación —explicó intentando ocultar el pánico que le daba expresarse en voz alta.

Anonadada dejó de pestañear y por unos segundos su mente se apagó, al reaccionar pareciendo que hubiera despertado de un sueño.

—Me tomas desprevenida —sacudió la cabeza aún intentando ubicarse en el presente.

—Entiendo que estas emociones pueden incomodarte y representar un problema...

—No es eso —interrumpió—. Desde el inicio evité imaginar un panorama como este por… um… lo que se dice de ti.

—¿Rumores? ¿Cuáles? —frunció el ceño.

Verdaderamente esperaba que él supiera y no tuviera que decirlo, pero la fortuna no estaba de su lado y lamentó introducir el tema.

—Antes que nada, lo que menos quiero es ofenderte o ser irrespetuosa —aclaró, el labio inferior temblando en evidentes nervios.

—Está bien, solo quiero saber.

—Oí en varias oportunidades que… tienes interés por… los hombres —murmuró dubitativa, inconscientemente dejando de cruzar los brazos y yendo a jugar con sus dedos—. Especialmente Joffrey.

El joven quedó estupefacto y entreabrió la boca mientras distintos colores lo pintaban, incluso debiendo voltear para recomponerse.

—No pensé que tales palabrerías llegarían a ti.

—Lo siento, aquella es la razón por la que he preferido mantener distancia. No deseaba entrometerme y ponerte en una posición incomoda, mientras pudiéramos sustentar las apariencias… todo estaría bien.

—Aprecio la consideración, solo es impactante tener que hablar de eso ahora —suspiró enfrentándola de vuelta, las mejillas aún estando sonrosadas.

—Estamos en completa privacidad, no hay mejor momento para aclarar nuestra situación —animó aferrándose rápido a la oportunidad de eliminar cada duda existente.

—Tienes razón —asintió esforzándose en relajar la postura, acto seguido inspirando profundo y cerrando los ojos—. Desde joven he tenido curiosidad por mi mismo género, y al crecer entendí que siento más atracción por los hombres que las mujeres.

—¿Entonces Joffrey es...?

—No —rechazó rotundo—. Poseemos preferencias similares y debido a eso surgieron rumores, pero es mi mejor amigo.

La femenina asintió aún sospechando, aunque por el momento decidió creerle al ser un buen muchacho que merecía confianza.

—Dijiste que desarrollaste afecto por mí, ¿qué significa? —indagó cruzando nuevamente los brazos.

Laenor entró en calor y tantas emociones en tan poco tiempo lo dejaron mareado, hasta el punto de casi pedir un descanso para sentarse.

—Me gustas, física y emocionalmente —contestó, ansioso sintiendo un nudo en el pecho—. Llegué al punto donde no podía pretender más y por eso planeé confesarme.

—¿Pensaste este momento? —elevó ambas cejas.

—Si, debido a eso Joffrey quería hablar conmigo —miró la bolsa aterciopelada—. Quería obsequiarte algo realizado, en su gran mayoría, por mí. Durante semanas fui al mar para conseguir los materiales y cumplir con las especificaciones del artesano.

—Tomaste muchas molestias —dijo apenada y, por alguna razón, ligeramente culpable.

—Fue un placer, además de mi idea —sonrió antes de ofrecer el paquete—. Se suponía que Joffrey buscaría el trabajo y lo dejaría en mi habitación, pero las sirvientas cerraron con llave y no pudo ingresar.

—¿Por eso apareció luego de la cena? —preguntó mientras agarraba la felpa y apreciaba que guardaba una firme caja en el interior.

—Exacto. Debía darme el regalo antes de que te trajera aquí y liberara mis sentimientos.

Sin comentar más quitó la suave bolsa y reveló una preciosa madera tallada. Analizó y tocó los relieves antes de levantar la tapa, inmediatamente abriendo bien los ojos.

—¡Un collar de perlas!

—Imagino que no será el primero que tienes, pero esperaba que poseyeras algo que al usarlo te recordara a mí.

—Debió ser difícil encontrar tantas ostras con nácar… Gracias, me encanta —acarició las blanquecinas esferas, pronto tomando la pieza y dejando el resto de lado.

—¿Te ayudo? —ofreció emocionado de que lo luciera.

Asintiendo, ella quitó el adorno que ya le decoraba el cuello y volteó dejando que él pusiera el regalo. La sonrisa que la pintaba permaneció mientras comprendía la extensión de sus acciones, como también la consideración de pescar su carne favorita y otros pequeños gestos que hasta entonces no pensó que tenían especial intención.

—Usaré el espejo —avisó yendo hacia un muro.

—No es porque participara en crearlo, pero se ve bien—comentó mientras se aproximaba y quedaba parado atrás.

—Puedes estar orgulloso, es precioso —halagó viéndolo por el reflejo, entonces apenas dejándose caer y chocando con su pecho.

Laenor tensó el cuerpo, aunque rápido utilizó una mano para sostenerla de la cintura y evitar que se alejara.

—No espero una respuesta inmediata a mi confesión, pero, ¿podrías considerar que seamos una pareja de verdad?

—Unicamente si logramos compartir tiempo de calidad, me gustaría conocerte a fondo.

—Absolutamente, es todo lo que quiero —respondió, sus cejas juntándose de tal manera que lo hacían ver como un cachorro desesperado.

Sonrió ante la sinceridad y giró el rostro, así besando la mejilla más cercana en una silenciosa promesa de un magnifico futuro juntos.

[goldensunflowe-r]

Laenor loca come here! I want to tell you something! You should have seen who they tried to set me up! Fuc*ing white boy!!! But I tricked them AND it was HILARIOUS!!

[controld3vil]

𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞

pairing(s): young!rhaenyra targaryen x velaryon!reader (can be read either as romantic/platonic) synopsis: Rhaenyra always seemed to like her position as the only dragon rider in King's Landing. Besides her uncle who rarely visits, she flys with Syrax whenever she can as proof of her imperial lineage. When word comes that you claimed Vermithor, the Bronze Fury, Rhaenyra becomes strangely jealous of your newfound attention.

notes: this takes place closely timeline-wise to the first season. cw: reader experiences a near-death incident, slight angst

Rhaenyra always felt at ease after riding with her dragon, Syrax. She had a distinctive bond with Syrax that no one could replicate. No one could discourage the truth. Her ancestors rode dragons and conquered the Seven Kingdoms. And rightfully so, as she acknowledges its power on the world. They were fierce beasts, little in number, but ferocious and praised as Gods to the people. The Princess of Dragonstone understood that well when she climbed off of Syrax’s saddle. Her golden scales glisten gloriously from the sunshine. 

She gleams brighter than before. Switching into a rich blonde gown, Rhaenyra rushes to the Court Council. Hoping none of the Councilmen would be bothered by her disturbed presence, the princess fixates on flattening down her silvery hair with her fingers. Combining through her tangled locks, the princess enters, drawing attention to haste and bewildered looks. 

“I was visiting Mother,” The Realm’s Delight she was named, smiled at her father, the King when asked about her whereabouts. She knew he would be displeased by the fact that she was dragon riding incredibly early. But she told the truth wholly. Rhaenyra did visit her mother. 

“On dragonback?” Viserys asked after catching a whiff of his daughter’s distinctive scent. It smelled of smoke and sea, resembling the dragon’s nature and their fiery breath. His daughter returns with a cheeky smile when she goes about to collect the pitcher, full of wine. There was much pride in the princess of her ancestral lineage. It was clear as histories can be able to tell of Old Valyria. A dragon was considered a rare delicacy despite having an abundance around the world. King’s Landing, Dragonstone, and Driftmark. Yet people did not consider them to be flesh and blood. Surprisingly, most were wild and had never been bonded with a dragon rider.

“Haven’t you heard? There was a sighting of the wild dragon, Vermithor along the coastlines of The High Tide,” Coryls Velaryon spouts, in cautiousness and weary. His clenched fist was unmistakable to Rhaenyra as he leaned forward with agitation. “My men are terrified, Your Grace. Surely we can think of a way to return the dragon’s course to Dragonstone.”

The silvery-haired girl looks to her father, King Viserys who beams with fazed delight. He thinks in light of the Master of Ship’s concerns. A dragon flies as it pleases. It did not flee far from Dragonstone as her familial home was a mile away from Driftmark itself. Eventually, Vermithor would have to return to rest. “And I’m sure he will return to Dragonstone when he deems it appropriate.” 

The lighthearted remark sparked some casual laughter from the table. A few lords shamelessly coughed between their coats while Hand to the King, Otto Hightower could only contemplate silently how to move the conversation to something more time-consuming. Rhaenyra has witnessed enough Council meetings to know that her father is restless. He never wanted to stay in the room for far too long before becoming disinterested in every political matter. What a dull position, she thought, to be the King of the Seven Kingdoms, you must abide by everyone's opinion and request. 

Rhaenyra traces her thumb around the handle of the pitcher. It’s glass and gold melded together. Its purity reflects wonderfully when she’s shown it to the light. As she strides around every seat of the table, the princess notices the little nuances each lord has. The old and cold pin of the Hand on Otto’s chest. The chainmail rings around Maester Mellos. And the rustic bronze rings Lord Corlys carried on his right hand. She recognizes why they are so distinctive now. 

“Nyra!”

It was like a bell went off in her mind when the Princess of Dragonstone blinked again. Now the Council meeting was left in their final moments. The doors that connected the room to the passive hallways opened, and flooded with the lords, one by one exiting. Well-mannered and poised was she when Rhaenyra placed the pitcher back onto the tabletop. Greeted by her father with a brief smile, she heard the sound of sweet nectar. Did you expect she did not hear you?

“Princess,” Rhaenyra laughs, coming down the stairs. You appeared eager to be near her, as you wrapped your arms tightly around her waist. A warm ache grows in her chest as Dragonstone’s darling caresses your shoulders, pushing you aback to see your face. “My you are eager this morrow.”

Your cheeks were plastered in rosy plums. Pink and delicate. As you burst into unfathomable joy at her proximity, you couldn’t contain your giddy blubbering. “I missed you! Is it so wrong to miss you?” She’d imagined your energy and heart beating simultaneously in the rhythm of a hummingbird. You were such a lively spirit, it complimented well with her own. Can she say that? 

She peers at you, fondly. As you were the most precious being one could ask for. If she could, Rhaenyra would shield you from every inconvenience and proposal your way. Even when you would become of age and pursued by your parents, she still would protect you from anyone who deemed you accessible. She brought both of her hands around your small one. They were adorned with rose-colored jewelry. Each is a colored gemstone to match your House colors. Rhaenyra slowly traces the flesh of your palm, “Of course not, Princess! It’s- I haven‘t seen you in so long,”

Your name is hollered and echoed against the looming halls you both stood in. She was sure for a moment, you two would be alone. A pang of discomfort flourishes in her throat when Rhaenyra becomes mute to the person to grab your attention. You, however, were deemed unbothered by it all, and held onto her grip tighter, and firmly, radiating heat and sweat. 

“There you are,” Your father, Lord Corlys groans in relief. It was evitable to find you lost around the castle, King’s Landing was a vast place. However, for how long you have visited, Rhaenyra depicts you knew the structure of it all and simply faked being clueless around. She saw it once. When you vaguely asked a guard where the library was to distract him, knowing you would be off avoiding your lessons with the Septa. She wishes she could chuckle out loud for that memory. “Do not get yourself carried away with the Princess, we have important matters to discuss with the King.” Your father seemed adamant about separating you from Rhaenyra, she recognizes. Which offends her greatly. You were a good friend and cousin. But more importantly, you were the only person to enjoy her company and mischief. 

For the longest time, the eldest daughter of King Viserys was lonely, not having anyone to relate to with her ancestral blood. The ladies in waiting were shy and polite. They were not her forte, Rhaenyra disliked how courtship worked. The daughter of the Hand, Alicent Hightower was a pleasant fresh air and surprise. When she had arrived at King's Landing years ago, Rhaenyra was rather avoidant of her. Now, they were good friends, only ever to be in each other's presence. Daemon, her uncle, is rarely seen nowadays. His position to the City Watch had in truth bothered and encouraged him to wreak more havoc with the townsfolk. She dismisses everyone clearly, anyone closest to her Targaryen bloodline is old or distant. 

But you, and your siblings, Laenor and Laena were much needed in the capitol. Your brother and sister visit rarely, they listen to your father and mother. On the other hand, you weren’t as uptight. As the youngest member of the Velaryon family, you had fewer expected duties compared to her and Alicent. Rhaenyra envied it truly, forever longing for your freedom. 

“Yes father,” You mope, an obvious frown on your lips when you depart from Rhaenyra’s side to your father. He stares at you with amused eyes, much contrast when he turns to her direction with a cold glare. It brings a chill down her spine as she quickly bows her head at the Master of Ships. She meant no offense. You did not notice the demeaning tension between your father and cousin. Because childishly, you excitedly tugged on Rhaenyra’s golden sleeves. “We’ll meet again soon, alright?” 

God, she can only smile at you. You were so sweet, endearing, and innocent. All traits she could find in any other lady. But you were much lively, more genuine than the girls she watched by the courtyard. They were pretentious and fickle. Alicent was also sweet and innocent. Innocent in the ways of adventure and courage. She was attached to duty and for that, Rhaenyra could not blame her. But for how much it mattered to her, she believed it to be an outrage. Out of everyone, you were just right.

The next time you met Rhaenyra was unconventional. Somehow you managed to convince your father to journey beside him to King’s Landing once more to meet the King’s family. Corlys hardly shrugged, putting little effort to stop you from climbing aboard the Sea Snake. Under unfathomable moments, you were condemned to sail to the capitol to tell the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms the great news. The last islanders left behind were your mother, Rhaenys, and sister, Laena who waved at you, earnestly, honing her fond smile as your figure grew smaller and smaller. Your mother, the Queen who Never Was, stood warmly with her arms crossed, with a look of pride on her face. 

Yes, your mother was ecstatic about what you had accomplished. No other dragon rider besides The Old King, Jaehaerys could claim the beast, the Bronze Fury. Many attempted, and many failed. However, because of your efforts, create a sense of joy and relief in your mother’s eyes. Never would she imagine her youngest child to claim one of the largest dragons alive. Vermithor was an untamable beast with a feisty personality. Perhaps it takes likeness to your spirit and simply bonded. She would have to ask you again to recall how you did it. 

The walls of the grand castle were empty and welcoming. You felt adrenaline scorch through your veins when you climbed up the stairs of the grand hall. The exterior was glorious. You could holler and scream and it would echo throughout all the corridors like a never-ending chamber. You held a skittish smile, as you made your way up, placing one hand on the rails for support. You could hear your father’s voice echo behind. Careful, you mustn’t fall, my love!

Even if you dropped to the ground, you would immediately pull yourself up and climb the stairs again. It was how desperate you were to meet Rhaenyra. You desperately wanted to tell her! 

Across the royal chambers, Rhaenyra was lounging outside notably. She sat under the Weirwood tree at leisure with Alicent beside her with a book in hand. She read aloud one of its stories, a romantic tale of a Dornish princess. But the dragon princess barely paid mind to what the Hand’s daughter was reading, she was more in tune with the moving sky. The baby blue ocean from above and the fluffy clouds that looked like soft cushions. The Realm’s Delight longed to ride with Syrax, despite only returning from her morning ride. If she could live in the sky forever, Rhaenyra would want to. 

She spotted a few of the Kingsguards that patrolled stop in front of someone. It looked as though they were permitting passage but seconds later, she saw them nod in unison simultaneously. They cleared the path and there you were. Striding in happy and irregular steps with your flowy dress of blue seashells and gemstones. She is reminded each time of your wealth and beauty. Cool-toned colors were your style as there was no other pigment you dressed in confidently and proudly, Sometimes she wonders how you would look in crimson red and black. 

“Princess!” Alicent was the first to speak on your behavior. It was not every day to see you all of a sudden in King's Landing. After Lord Corlys’s many disagreements with the Council. he chose to be absent from court. This irritated King Viserys and the rest of the Council, knowing without their Master of Ships, their collaboration would be deemed incomplete. Nevertheless, your appearance would confirm that your father had once again returned to the capitol. “I didn’t expect to see you here!” The brown-haired princess gleams, shutting the book entirely, and rising to meet you in a short embrace. 

Your giddiness is affectionate. It makes Rhaenyra feel light and blissful of your unannounced arrival. “It is good to see you, my Lady!” You’re teasing, tightly wrapping your arms around Alicent before releasing with sweet laughter. Alicent snickers, as the highlights of her dimples flush in soft pales of the color rose. 

“I told you, Alicent is fine!” 

“I know!” The two of you seemed to be in your world whenever your visits happened. You would appear, and Alicent bursts excitement and jitteriness. Rhaenyra finds it amusing to watch it unfold. But for not witnessing your presence for so long, she rather feels a little hurt and apprehensive of your attachment to the Hand’s daughter. If your mere attendance brought such delight, then your words brought an abundance of warmth and tenderness. “Nyra!”

Finally, the Princess of Dragonstone looks up, feeling slightly closed off from your welcome. Yet when she lays her velvet eyes on you, she can’t help but feel you are forgiven. Your expression was gentle and serene. “Princess,” Your name feels light off her lips as it always did. You playfully roll your eyes before releasing your grip on Alicent to hold onto Rhaenyra’s hands. They were inviting and delicate. 

“I missed you,” You whine, dramatically, dragging out the last part as though you haven’t seen each other in months. When really, it has been less than a month. The most you have visited were a full three days, staying overnight in the guest's bedrooms. It was when your father had an important mission to relay with the lords he chose to stay longer. You, on the other hand, wanted a sleepover. And by now, you should have a bedroom, personalized for whenever you wish to come to visit. You have on many occasions to irk your father and mother’s minds.

“The last time we spoke you were whisked away by your father,” She scoffs lightly which earns a questionable raised brow from Alicent. Your expression does not falter at her offense. “even though you said we would meet again.” Petty and stubborn were the words you describe Rhaenyra Targaryen. She was rather protective and loyal to the people closest to her. You importantly, she greatly values you. And weeks ago, you promised her, however, things took a turn with your father and you had to abide. 

“And we have,” You grin, lovingly, holding her hands up to your chest. It was a subtle sign of an apology and care. You carried your promise, even if it had taken weeks to fulfill because of interpersonal matters. But you are here now, in front of her, your energetic personality never failing. “I have great news.” 

The silvery-haired princess seemed to take your understated gesture sincerely as she closed the gap between you two. Curiosity caught her gaze as her lavender orbs did not move away from your own. “Well, what is it?” Suddenly you’re aware you’ve kept a tight grip on Rhaenyra as she allowed you to trap both her hands. The close intimacy is acknowledged by you when you try not to break away your gaze from hers. Alicent seemed visibly bothered by it but you are not facing her to know. 

The wind whistles in anticipation, and the Weirwood tree heaves and blows the dead leaves off of its branches. The luscious green fields dance back and forth in little tiny unison. The scent of dirt and fresh mint is present. As you inhale deeply before revealing, “I claimed a dragon.” 

A moment of silence before a heaved gasp came from the Hightower princess. 

“Congratulations!” 

You can feel the butterflies float up to your chest when you see both of the girl's expressions in a state of happiness and revelation. You give an animated smile, “Thank you!”

“Are you joking?” You can see on Rhaenyra’s face, she is still in shock which morphs into pleasure and ecstasy. 

You shake your head enthusiastically, and repeatedly, shaking both you and the Princess in a hop. “No!”

“Oh thank the gods!” Your cousin blurts, embracing you in a well-deserved embrace. Her arms coil around your back with a squeeze. The encouragement both Rhaenyra and Alicent had given you was something you cherished dearly. For the longest time, you blame yourself for not being able to claim a dragon. No egg would hatch or a wild dragon would approach you. You studied and performed all the ways to encounter them. Yet none had prevailed and up until recently, you felt exasperated on the idea of bonding with a dragon. You were extremely jealous of Laenor and Rhaenyra for their impeccable bond. You and Laena longed for it for your entire lives, it made you moody and neglectful. 

Therefore their support had kept you least tolerable. Your mother and father were understanding and patient with your fits. Even King Viserys and Queen Aemma sometimes consoled you that one day you would claim a dragon. Whichever dragon you did not care for, you knew your companion was out there. 

“Which dragon did you claim?” The brunette girl comes to your side, eager and curious to know what of your new beast. 

“Yes, which one did you claim?” Your silver-haired cousin urges, shaking your hands back and forth. 

You felt like a bubble waiting to pop with excitement. You wanted all the streams and ribbons the castle could offer to be released for your accomplishment. You took a deep breath before letting out a slow exhale to calm your beating heart. “Vermithor.” 

In an instant, Rhaenyra’s face falls. “Vermithor.” 

“Yes, Vermithor!” You were blinded by the enthusiasm Alicent portrayed with her hands, clapping and squealing in awe at you. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Vermithor!” The Hand’s daughter takes your left hand and swirls her thumbs around your knuckles. “I’m so happy for you!” Again the call of your name is murmured frankly and in reverence. “One of the largest dragons alive in the world and you had claimed it!” 

Satisfaction filled your chest. Nothing could compare to the prideful looks your friends and family had for you on this day. It truly was something to celebrate something this spectacular. Not since Jaehaerys, your great grandfather rode the dragon. Your mother would surely want you to ride Vermithor immediately as he was still considered wild. But if Jaehaerys managed to tame the beast, you knew you could. 

She could not explain it. Rhaenyra had always thought highly of you. She would disparage you out of anything. You were too pure for her frustration. What is she angry about? The princess could not explain. But whenever she passed the corridors of the Keep or the chambers of her mother’s ladies in waiting, she would hear the praise and compliments for your achievement. My, haven't you heard? The youngest daughter of Corlys Velaryon claimed Vermithor! The dragon King Jaehaerys rode! It must be fate. 

To what end was it fated? Dragons chose their riders. It was unclear how the bonds between rider and dragon existed but it was something genuine. So it shouldn’t confuse her when she sees you when on Driftmark, practicing to fly with the Bronze Fury. You struggled the first few times. She recalls those moments well, laughing and teasing you to no end of the amount of times you fell into the mud. Mounting on a dragon was a gradual adjustment. As she stared into the view of the ocean shore and deep gray-blue waters, you and your dragon were by the shorelines, attempting to be in sync with one another. A few feet from you was Rhaenys. As commanding and benevolent she was to you and not to her. 

Rhaenys Targaryen was quick-witted. She never had a great relationship with the Queen who Never Was. But in contrast, she was soft to you and held untainted remorse for her youngest child. Meleys was beside her rider, cooing and staring at you and Vermithor in inquiry. Much similar to her companion, Rhaenys said something Rhaenyra could not understand before watching you shake your head in disbelief. Vermithor was a grueling and deadly creature. The fact that you were young did not change its attention. It croaks and cranes its neck down for you to climb on its upper back. 

A saddle was neatly strapped on the beast. It must take ages to put on. Vermithor was known for his savage behavior. Yet if you were present with him, she deems he would have been docile to take care of. 

“Why are you pouting?” 

It was the late evening on Driftmark when she proposed a walk with you along the beach line. It was the many hobbies you both enjoyed in your homeland. Salt and sea were everywhere as opposed to her home, King’s Landing filled with endless brick walls and dust. The island is peaceful and serene when there are no fishing ships in the water. Rhaenyra can never be tired of the view and the sea salt air Driftmark supplies. It’s refreshing and so calm. 

“I’m not pouting.” The Princess of Dragonstone argues, her off tone marks it remarkable that her fickle state of mind. She should know better. You know her well, more than most of her maids and sometimes father. 

“You are,” The corners of your lips curve as you kick a few clumps of sand off the ground. “I’ve noticed since coming here, you’ve been…distant.” A personality all of your siblings share is your tenderness. Laena had a graceful heart and Laenor a compassionate one. Yours was resilient. You held onto things for far too long and you’re incredibly devoted to the people you love. You become easily attached to things, people, and the attention. Can she blame you? For a long time, you felt ridiculed and ashamed for your lack of a dragon. Your sadness must be more out of sympathy than Laena’s. By the time your sister claimed Vhagar, you were left as an outcast. 

The Realm’s Delights huffs, crossing her arms behind her back. “Seasick I suppose,” In truth, she never was seasick. Rhaenyra had traveled to Driftmark many times to be immune to the sickness. She knew it was a weak lie, one you would catch easily. But she did not like being confronted on whatever was on your mind. 

“Nonsense,” You jest, before stomping both your feet firmly into the brown sugar sand. Your stance makes the princess stop. “I know you dislike Vermithor.” 

She looks at you, astonished. “What?” 

You push further into the dirt until your heels are engulfed. “I can see it, Rhaenyra. You do not like him.”  Your assumption makes her head spin. Because in what world would she have any disregard against a dragon? Rhaenyra adored all dragons the same. They were a part of her family’s legacy. But she figures you must’ve seen her sometimes glare in the direction of your dragon to believe she had no love for the Bronze Fury. 

The silver-haired girl shakes her head. “No, it’s not that.” She did not want to explain this to you. Feeling ashamed and embarrassed at her feelings, Rhaenyra deems you unfit to hear such nonsense. “It’s more childish than that.”

Your head quirks sideways. You looked confused as your eyebrows rose as well. She can feel the winds pick up as the tides come toward you both. Its cold water brushes past your feet but you ignore it completely. “How so?” 

Must she explain at such a time? “I must admit, for the past few days, I’ve been feeling remorseful.” She quipped, finding the freezing chill of the sea comforting for this kind of conversation. “I’m sure you’ve seen me grow bitter, even resentful towards you and Vermithor. For that I apologize but- it’s a small feeling.” 

“You feel resentful towards me and Verm?” She can see your eyes flicker, as you contemplate and allow your mind to take in her words. Your loose hair is down, you’re gorgeous. Even in your night clothes and were of the absence of jewelry and pretty colors. 

“Was,” She reaffirms, unable to look you in the eye. Rhaenyra feels ashamed for feeling this way. She does not want to hurt your feelings. “The attention, the people, they spoke of you for days about what you have done, claiming King Jaehaerys dragon. All everyone wanted to do was talk about you and how you proved yourself to become the greatest rider.” The more she rambles, the hot tears flood her vision. She does not seem weak to you. She was spilling her truth to you, she had to let it out. 

You held a calm expression. “But I’m not the greatest rider,” Yes, you were not. Your bond was still young. You still struggled with communicating with Vermithor sometimes daily. How can you be considered the greatest even when you struggled to mount your dragon? 

“That is what the people say,” Accidently your cousin snaps but quickly regains her composure. She looks at her feet and the sand below. It was as if she pleaded for forgiveness. There is nothing to forgive, you’re angry. You’d say but she continues. “I was sick and tired of it all. Even my father spoke highly of you and it offended me. Why do I feel this way? I should be happy for you!” The mist around you clouds the floor. It’s sombrous and cool to touch. Everything Rhaenyra had held back was gone and it felt somewhat cathartic. She knows you must’ve felt hurt by her words, she was harsh.

She was afraid to touch you. But you did not care, gripping her forearm suddenly. Rhaenyra’s gaze finally breaks and stares at you, wide-eyed. Her tear-filled eyes shattered your heart, fully aware of her fragile condition. “I don’t blame you for what you feel, Rhaenyra. I too felt the same way when Laena claimed Vhagar, do you remember it? I was restless, unable to sleep at night - why couldn't I do what she had done.” The Princess of Dragonstone does not pull away from your grasp but simply gazes at your quivering lips. “I grew to be resentful of my sister. My heart grew dark and left people in danger. I regret feeling this way towards her now because of it. Do you understand?” 

The expression on your face said it all as she observed. The strained look flashed before you as you recounted the painful memories. In the days after Laena’s bond, you were cruel and cold. You spoke less to your family, ashamed and poisoned by jealousy. You would snap at the sailors more often and drive them into more dangerous scenarios to spite them. Your pettiness was revolting to watch, your father, Corlys growing instantly tired of your immature tantrums for something you could not control. He would cry out to you about how ignorant your actions were and then dismiss your privileges to sailing his ships. All while your mother felt she could do nothing to stop you in your frustration. She watched from a distance as her husband criticized you openly for your infuriating flaws, making it known to all you had gone too far. 

Slow but surely, when you stepped closer to her gave you the courage to tell her what needed to be heard. “I cannot change what you feel, but if you wish for me to leave, then please tell me.” You huffed in pain as your cold fingers traced along her arm and then moved to her hands. In some ways like this, you were fragile like porcelain. Sometimes Rhaenyra forgot you were younger than her. And now she felt like the childish one. 

“No, I—” She gulps, her fear evident. She didn't want to lose you as well. “Please don’t go.”

Your eye-opening conversation marked the beginning of a new chapter in your life. Connecting with the Bronze Fury required some time to adapt to both yourself and those around you. As the newest rider, you felt the world embracing you. However, what you cherished most was the experience of riding. You hailed from Old Valyria, with the blood of the Dragon in your veins. Riding with Vermithor became a daily routine, a privilege you savored. It was the most incredible gift you could have received.

Rhaenyra slowly became accepting of it as well. You can tell by the way her lips curl when you mount off of your dragon, that she was proud of you. You were a dragon rider! Now, you and she could soar through the skies for eternity if you wished. It was a dream come true, and you were overjoyed that she had forgiven you.

When you were above the skies, it was breathtaking. No view from below could compare to the ones over the clouds. You admit now why you found Rhaenyra’s obsession with flying to be so addicting. It was. When you’re up there, it feels as though nothing matters but you and the pale blue heavens. Vermithor would always groan in his grumpy way to show affection. He enjoyed riding above, you’ve felt his calm heartbeat and knew he too felt as relaxed as you did. When Rhaenyra joined you, which was a regular occurrence, you two would race. Up and down the clouds, like both of you danced in between the midst.

She looked dashing in her rider’s uniform. Black leather, plastered to resemble dragon scales alongside matching gloves. You resembled a familiar approach, having bronze leather strapped all over to stimulate Vermithor’s charming scales. You reminisced that he even once nudged at you from behind as a sign of appreciation for it.

Vermithor, the ruthless wid dragon growing soft because of you. You always had your chance to mention it to him before riding as a reminder of your sincere relationship. As a rider and dragon, the two of you bonded over adventure and tricks. You loved exploring the faraway lands to only encourage the Bronze Fury more driven to fly. 

But there were also moments when you were reminded of how reckless you could be with him. On the morning of your uncle’s name day, you convinced Rhaenyra to fly out to the Estermount Sea, close to the Triarchy of Essos. At first, the princess urged you of the danger, the Triarchy were pirates who paraded in raiding others for fun. Additionally, they had been targets of your father’s ships, disrupting trade. Yet you dismissed her pleas and pursued with an eager grin. 

The first few moments entering the sea territory were quiet. Both of you were mindful of the harsh waves there and how foggy it was similar to the Stormlands. But Rhaenyra persisted with her worries when you wanted to challenge her to dive down close to the sea. 

“We shouldn’t be here!” Her lilac eyes were defined with anxiousness as the princess held her dragon’s reins tightly. However you were indifferent, all too casual in uncharted areas. 

“We’re fine! We’re high enough in the sky!” you shout, a broad grin stretching across your face as you gaze at the small islands of Essos below. They look both foreign and beautiful. You’ve never ventured this far from home before.

But that was the last moment of calm you experienced. Suddenly, a harpoon appeared out of nowhere, narrowly missing you and Vermithor by the shoulder. The weapon moved with such speed and force that you had no time to process what was happening. Rhaenyra saw it clearly—she watched as the massive arrow zipped past you, inches away from your body, before plunging into the sea below. Someone had attempted to attack you. The worst followed: the harpoon's impact sent you and Vermithor into a chaotic frenzy. You leaped as your dragon swerved violently, causing you to be thrown from your saddle. For a moment, your body was there, and then it wasn’t.

The princess screamed in desperation, urgently commanding Syrax to dive into the water in an attempt to catch your falling body. Your dragon was beside hers, plummeting and speeding towards the sea floor as you descended. With a whoosh, Vermithor swooped in at the last moment, grabbing you from a fatal plunge. His claws, though sharp, gripped you with surprising gentleness, and you stared in terror as he held you safely.

The memory was deeply distressing. Your hair was now disheveled and tangled from the fall. Tears streamed down your cheeks, leaving your skin glistening and drenched. Rhaenyra could only sob with relief, feeling utterly exhausted and wishing it were all just a nightmare. Yet it was all too real. She felt Syrax’s comforting purr in response to her discomfort. Her father and yours would have been shouting endlessly about this.

Despite everything, all she could remember was the devastated look on your face.

It was madness. Jacaerys would tell her, her son parading around her room as they waited for all of the Targaryen bastards to arrive. Here she was, Rhaenyra Targaryen, in Dragonstone, pursuing the inevitable. The idea of recruiting Dragon Seeds was bizarre but what choice did she have? There was no one left in her family who could claim one. Distant Houses with the blood of Valyria were risky. She had to sacrifice one of her knights to do it. Perhaps this was the only way to win the war. 

Years without your presence brought Rhaenyra sorrow and time to reflect on herself. It had been long since she was gifted to speak your name so openly. Everyone knew of her relationship with you. The princess cherished you deeply and with your absence, left the Realm soulfully longing. Rhaenys despises her because of it. She wondered if part of the princess's resentment was directly tied towards you or the fact she was given the title of heir or both. Yet after Alicent’s son had taken her throne, Rhaenys stood by her side, as did her husband. 

Meeting all of the Targaryen bastards was daunting at first. Rhaenyra knew many infidelities were common for any lord to allow their seed to spread. To witness so many of them in a room made her all the more encouraged to believe her plan would succeed. It must, it should. She could feel all of their eyes focus entirely on her like a beacon of hope. They believed what they were doing was right to protect the realm. And for that, she will use it to attain. 

The Dragonpit had never felt so cold or so secure. It was secluded within a murky cave, miles tall and wide. It’s humid, water drips everywhere as the Black Queen strides down onto the platform where the dragon would be summoned. Forty or so Dragon Seeds followed her, paranoid and trembling about what was to come. She would have to believe in the gods, Rhaenyra sighed. If there is a strategy better than this, she would take it. But Alicent’s son had taken something from her by force and for that, she could not comply. 

“Come forward, Vermithor.” Her accent revealed her fluency in the High Vayrlian language. Rhaenyra readied herself for the beast. Seconds of silence loomed over all those in the Dragonpit like a neverending time bomb. The wait was excruciating yet the inevitable was daunting to witness. Out of the shadows comes a growl, which causes a few of the Dragon seeds to slightly panic. But the Queen knew better. And Vermithor as well.

He looms, towering over the cockpit like a living nightmare. His crooked teeth glowed an intimidating appearance for all, and the simmer of his bronze scales shined. “Obey! Stay calm, Vermithor!” Commanded by Rhaenyra as she stares up at the beast, unafraid. She holds an imposing scowl before witnessing the Bronze Fury lower his snout. The Black Queen reaches out of her hand, cautiously and slowly. 

Her hand makes contact with his snout and calmly Rhaenyra recognizes the sense of calm Vermithor had with her whenever you were around. It felt as though he resembled your presence and familiarity. This intuition puts a warm smile on her face. 

[witchofhimring]

Being the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen

Rhaenyra Targaryen x daughter reader (platonic)

Reader can either be read as the child of Laenor, Daemon, Criston Harwin or other

-As her only daughter you are especially cherished. The moment they place you on her chest she instantly, unconditionally loves you. While she does not have favorites, you are cherished.

It was with one last agonizing push that Rhaenyras only daughter came screaming into the world. "A daughter, your Grace!" With trembling arms Rhaenyra took her daughter from the midwife. Y/n Velarion's e/c eyes opened and Rhaenyra instantly fell in love. Secretly, she had always harbored hopes of having a girl. She knew the realm prayed for a son, but deep inside Rhaenyra yearned for a girl. A daughter to love and cherish and protect her from all that she herself had suffered.

-You are absolutely doted on my your mother. She makes sure you have the best of everything. She loves to order sweets brought from all over and give them to you in elaborately decorated boxes. She has you all decked out in red and black clothing. Rhaenyra likes to do your hair and make elaborate hairdos. Whether for a special occasion or any normal day she takes great pleasure in showing off how pretty you are!

Y/n squealed in delight as Rhaenyra pulled out a box. Knowing that it held some kind of delight behind its wooden covering you wasted no time in hastily opening it. Tiny hands seized the sugar covered fruits from Dorne. The mother giggled as with great enthusiasm Y/n chomped away at them. "Remember to share them with your brothers!" Rhaenyra called out to her daughters. "Gods I love her." Rhaenyra thought.

-Because of the political situation you are heavily guarded. Your friends/ladies in waiting are carefully picked amongst Rhaenyra's closest allies. From the time you are old enough to walk she hires a personal guard to follow wherever you go. This is especially true if Otto, Alicent or Criston Cole are near. Unlike with her sons I don't see Rhaenyra letting you near your uncles. Partly because it would be seen as inappropriate but also for safety sakes.

-Princess Rhaenyra, Princess of Dragonstone, eldest child of Viserys and heir to the throne, ran in great haste down the hall. She payed no heed to the sudden stairs of people. Most of the time she would care, but not now. Not when she noticed her brother Aemond speaking with her baby girl under the Weirwood tree. She did not know his intentions and frankly, did not care. None of Otto Hightowers grandchildren would be in any position to harm her daughter. "Y/n." Rhaenyra hurried down the path to see two children quite peacefully reading a book. Aemond was the first to look up and scowled. Rhaenyra didn't like it. Even something as innocent as this could insight trouble. Gods know Otto might even consider marrying the two if he could get away with it. A perfect way to tether the Princess of Westeros to himself forever. She would never let that happen.

-Obviously you will have a dragon from day one, if there isn't an egg already placed in the cradle. She will likely want you to have a new one rather than an older one. This is mainly because she worries an older one might be too aggressive and large for tiny you to manage. Of course she will take you for flight on Syrax, high in the sky. She uses these times to bond, even going on short daytrips for fun.

If she gives you an egg:

Rhaenyra cradles the large opaque egg in her hands. It was a good size, this dragon would be healthy. It was placed right beside the infant who was roused to the waking world. Her large e/c eyes focused on the egg with such intensity that Rhaenyra could hardly believe it. Her fingers brushed against the thin hairs that had just started to sprout up. Her little Targaryen.

If you claim your own dragon:

She would have preferred Dreamfyre. That dragon was so gentle and lovely, a perfect fir for her gentle daughter. Not fucking Tessarion. Anxiously Rhaenyra waited as Y/n advanced forward. The dragon keepers were on standby. But if Tessarion became volatile then......... The great dragon moved its head. The Valyrian coming out of Y/n's trembling mouth would barely be heard over the beasts rumbling. Horrified, Rhaenyra moved to intercede. But suddenly the dragon lowered its head and Y/n's hand placed itself on its snout. "Look mom! I'm a dragonrider!"

Riding a dragon with her daughter:

At five years old Y/n mounted a dragon for the first of many times. Rhaenyra had been hesitant. Normally Targaryen's took their children on a flight during babyhood. But in her anxiety Rhaenyra waited until her daughter was slightly older. She had a small harness made for the baby and herself. Part of Rhaenyra didn't want to stay on the ground, but Y/n was a Targaryen, a Valyrian ancestry going back thousands of years. The dragons wings expanded and in a great bounding leap Syrax was in the air. Y/n's small form was shaking and Rhaenyra wrapped an arm around her. They stabilized once above the clouds. Y/n finally had calmed down. Soon, she was giggling and enjoying the height. Rhaenyra smiled.

-When it comes to betrothals Rhaenyra will wait until you are grown before any of that comes to fruition. Like her father she will let you chose. That is, up until the events of episode 7 where Vaemond makes his bid for Driftmark. Even though she will not be aggressive about it, your attention will be directed to Cregan Stark. Of course you will get the talk, and what to expect during pregnancy/childbirth. Your also likely to get a new wardrobe. This is even more expected if where your moving to (think Winterfell and Dorne) has a drastic change in weather compared to Kingslanding/Driftmark. If you do end up married then she will make frequent visits to where you live.

Everyone bellow was mingling during the Red Keeps most recent party. Everyone except for Rhaenyra and Y/n. Mother and daughter observed the happenings bellow, talking in low voices. "Have you met anyone who appeals from you?" Rhaenyra closely watched her daughters expression. Y/n's eyes skimmed the handful of eligible bachelors that a Princess of the realm could take. "Hmmmm. Uncle Aemond is looking rather appealing these days." Y/n jested. Rhaenyra snorted. None of Otto's grandchildren would ever taken her daughter to wife. Only last week Alicent had requested a possible betrothal between their two children. As far as Rhaenyra was concerned, that would only happen over her dead body. "Who is that?" Rhaenyra's eyes lit up. Now this was a much better match. "That is Cregan Stark."

Extra

What is your fathers relationship with you (excluding non cannon father)

Harwin Strong:

Like with his sons he is very close with you. Your his only daughter and so he is very protective. He will hold you as a baby and try to be there for everything. First words, steps and your progression into adulthood. He likes to carry you on his back during his time off. Even though you are a girl you will likely be taught to fight if you so chose. Although that will be in secret. I think that as the daughter of Rhaenyra and Harwin you will feel like you all are a great big family.

Leanor Velarion:

Your his only biological child. Because of this the family dynamic will change, with Laenor being far more involved with his family.1* Rhaenyra and Rhaenys will push hard for him to be a good father, the best he can be. Its a rocky start. But he gets better and does his best. Your time together is usually one on one with Laenor. Stuff like taking you on dragonrides and going to Driftmark.

Criston Cole:

This one is a doozy because he can't be sure until you are older that your his (given that Rhaenyra's likely got involved with Harwin shortly after marriage). But once he finds out....wow. Because as much as he loathes Rhaenyra he can't bring himself to hate the daughter. He will, very subtly, try to ingratiate himself to you. This will be sneaky and behind Rhaenyra's back. Of course Alicent will get wind of this making Otto aware. He will absolutely try to use this to his advantage. This of course puts Criston in a very difficult position.

Daemon Targaryen:

This pregnancy takes place shortly before the marriage to Laenor, meaning Rhaenyra was pregnant although very early on. I have a feeling Daemon might not even know the baby is his, thinking it is Harwin Strong's. So he as nothing to do with you until the funeral of his second wife. It was there that Rhaenyra reveals he has another daughter. The reason he was not informed earlier is because she was worried someone might get ahold of the note and Daemon was in Pentos all this time. This revelation will be surprised. When your parents marry he will take an interest in your education. You are expected to be an example of pure Valyrian, perfecting Valyrian and being a dragon writer. The two of you will sometimes read together and he likes to tell stories of his adventures.

Note: I'm gonna make one for Alicent and maybe Aemond. If you guys want me to make any more of these then please feel free to requested☺

[neonlight2]

Jaehaera (oc) x Daemon Targaryen

War alongside Daemon

Because you asked so nicely… @bluecloudsworld.

Masterlist

“Where the hell is he?”

“Be patient uncle—,” Laenor all but pleaded, his eyes flickering from place to place, searching for a sign, a flutter in the clouds, a piercing squeal, the glimpse of red.

“I knew this was a mistake, no right fool would go into the pits in these conditions, and the fact we are now trusting a madman—,”

“Daemon will help us—,”

“He will ruin us!” Lord Vaemond scream, rage of defeat boiling through his throat. “And Driftmark will be left in shambles because of the King’s neglect and his brothers temperament.”

Laenor could feel the words weighing on his tongue, you’re the reason we lost the first half of this war. But he dare not say it.

While his uncle spoke of temper as if he was not throwing a tantrum this very moment, Laenor knew better than to test it farther. Vaemond got rash when angry, both in mouth and hands.

And the last thing Laenor needed was more inner conflict within his family due to an avoidable squabble.

“Father trusts him,” Laenor reasoned, his hands held out, meant to mend the tension, “and Daemon promised not to do anything foolish.”

Vaemond scoffed at the thought, the rogue prince not causing trouble? What a thought.

“I can’t believe the king is allowing this.”

“Uncle—,”

“It’s bad enough that we have let his fool of a brother lead, let only have to coddle a child.”

“Uncle, be—,” Laenor eyes grew desperate to stop his uncle, eyes straying to behind the ranting lord, whom had no concern for his surroundings.

“A princess no less, who’ll no doubt need coddling—,”

“Oh I’m sure I’ll be fine Lord Vaemond, but it’s nice to hear that you care so much for my well being.”

Laenor’s uncle stilled, arms tense with the outrage he could no longer express. It would seem that he needed practice when reviewing his surroundings.

Turning with a placated smile, the prideful Lord laughed as if everything he said were a mere jest, and those not laughing were too stiff.

“Princess!” He announced, acting down his surprise with mocking joy. “Lovely to see you once again. My god how much you’ve grown! You were at my belt the last time we met, now you’re nearly as tall—perhaps even taller than me.” He realized her true size as she approached him further, stalking up so smoothly one would think she were slithering.

Humming in agreement, Jaehaera passed by Vaemond without a second thought in order to glance at the battle plans scattered about the makeshift table. “Daemon is off surveilling the territory for us, so I’m here to help lead you in his stead,” glancing up, having seen enough to know that there truly was no plan, Jaehaera gave Laenor a playful wink to acknowledge her dear friend, “I hope that does not disappoint you too much.”

“No,” Vaemond quickly lied corrected. “I’m just saddened Daemon did not keep his word as he said. He’s rather…”

“Chaotic?” Jaehaera threw out, moving the map as she pleased, “Dishonest? Undependable?”

Allowing himself to laugh, Vaemond nodded furiously. “Exactly, I’m overjoyed at least you agree with me princess—,”

“I think you should lead the west troops, closer to the coast.” Jaehaera interrupts, tapping against the wood to show where she meant. “You are better suited for the sea, if anything should go wrong you can take your troops to the water and attack from there.”

There was a new tension in the air, and Laenor could since the band about to break.

“Jaehaera, maybe I should take the west, and my uncle should help you—,”

“Laenor, with all of your skill on land, you lack what is needed for sea warfare. Besides,” she glances from her willing, soon to be brother in law, to his uncle, “ a victory on water is as great as any on land. It should be a wonderful opportunity to fully show the power of your house Lord Vaemond, the infamous ‘sea snakes’.”

She’s baiting him, Laenor thought.

She would make him a coward if not mediocre.

“And where do you and Daemon play into this,” Vaemond grits, “the hero’s in the middle of the battle? Wont it be hard to share the spotlight with a showman like Daemon?”

Smiling, Jaehaera leans back, resting her arms on her sword. “On the contrary, Daemon is rather docile when it comes to those he respects. He’s already agreed to play whatever part I have for him.”

She shrugs slightly, “It would seem he’s only dependable to those he’s loyal too. And as for the limelight… Laenor will be the one to lead the siege.”

All went still at her decree.

“What?” Laenor asked, honest in his surprise. “Jaehaera, I am honored by your trust in my abilities but I—,”

Tilting her head, Jaehaera chuckles at the wrinkles building on the young man’s forehead. Clapping his shoulder with encouragement she said, “You’ll be fine. Daemon and I will be at the front, to take some of the brute force off the troops, and you are well versed in strategy. I have no doubt you will lead the troops to see another day.”

Without leaving room for anymore discussion, Jaehaera walked away from the table and held her face toward the sky— eyes closed with searching ears. “Daemon will be landing soon,” she stated with no hesitation. “Get your men ready before he gets here and thinks too highly of himself.”

Laenor laughs this time, shaking his head as he points and waves to his close guards. “Prepare the men and make sure they’re steady in their station.”

“See?” Jaehaera quips as soldiers scurry about her, waiting for the stomping of Vaemond’s furious feet to stop. “You’re a natural.”

“Do you want there to be quarrel between my uncle and I?” Laenor asks in a forced whisper.

“Come now Norry, you know I’d never put you in such an awkward predicament.” Jaehaera teases with fake seriousness. “I want to have a quarrel with your uncle.”

“You’re still using me as a middle man—,”

“Fine, I’m sorry—,”

“No you’re not.” Laenor retorts with a smirk, poking her side.

Caving, the Princess conceded. “Fine, I’m not, but I promise not to use you like that again.”

“Oh?” Laenor inquired. “Than whoever will be your middle man.”

Straightening her posture, Jaehaera smiles widely as her eyes open. “Who else?”

The screech of Caraxes would be familiar to anyone in the realm. It was only shocking to the people of Westeros when too much time had passed without hearing the sound, somewhere in the distance. Farmers would pray to the gods for their livestock to be spared, whilst noblemen clutched their hearts with fear. Jaehaera, however, found the sound sweet like music.

“He really is a showman isn’t he?” Laenor jested, watching the Rogue Prince land dramatically before their very eyes. Leaning closer to the other dragon beside him, he whispered, “You dressed like that to provoke him.”

Scoffing, Jaehaera tilted her head as she watched Daemon dismount his trusted companion. Both almost mimicking the other as they shook off the winds kiss.

“I don’t like being tied down by the weight of armor.”

“You don’t like being tied down at all,” Laenor teased. “So the leather you’re wearing is only for your benefit?”

“For all of us,” Jaehaera mused in a hushed voice as Daemon got closer.

Laenor whispered directly into her ear before rushing off like a child. “I bet you a hour of guard duty that he’ll want to mount you not even three minutes into battle.”

Mocking a shocked expression, Jaehaera’s head swung to the side, staring as Laenor ran away. “Bold of you to assume it will take that long!”

“Assume what Issa jaesa?”

*My goddess

A light shiver ran down the princess’s spine, feeling his lips trail down her neck.

“Behave Daemon.” Jaehaera warned, grabbing the underside of chin to push him away. “You can’t have the spoils until after the war.”

Daemon twisted around to look at her directly, a wicked grin across his face. “Are you saying you’ll reward me today?”

“If you—,”

“You know behavings not in my nature,” he said with a devious glint in his eyes, “give me something easier.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a reward if you didn’t have to work for it,” Jaehaera quipped, deciding it would be best to direct her attention to the fire puppy in front of her. “Why can’t you be more like Caraxes Dae?”

Kissing the dragon’s scaled snout, she embraced the heat of his breathing with a relieved sigh. “He’s always so well behaved.”

“Well maybe I would be too if I got a kiss every time we met.” Daemon stated indignantly, pulling her back into him by her waist.

“You’re so needy,” she whines mockingly. “We have a war to win.”

“So lead the way my little dragon,” he whispered, his nose brushing lightly along the skin peaking out around her shoulders.

“I’m not little.” Jaehaera said in an irritated tone before hissing from a harsh sting.

He bit her.

Properly enough to leave canine marks in her skin.

“Daemon, I swear on Viserys’ crown—,”

Licking the spot as an apology, Daemon steps away, arms in the air. “Just a promise issa jaesa.”

“Of maiming me?” She asked sarcastically, trailing her fingers along the mark to find the puncture.

Daemon’s eyes darkened as he stepped further away, watching her intently. “That I will be the only one to draw blood from you today.”

Jaehaera laughed. “And what if I accidentally nick myself today?”

Squinting at her, Daemon’s mouth forms a strict line. “You wouldn’t.”

“We’ll see,” she remarked, quick to race her way towards the army standing ready, “now hurry along, we have a battle to begin!”

***

The ways of war had always come easy for Jaehaera. She thought that the balance of war was always fair. Death and life. Evil and innocence. She loved that everyone on a field could become equals no matter what station, anyone could kill or be killed. She loved that they would all dance together, close but far, sweating with grief and ambition. It was so incredibly human to her, and more intimate than almost any encounter she had with people.

But even with everything she loved, she hated war with the same ferocity. Jaehaera hated casualties above all else, thinking it the most dishonorable trait.

So she fought with rage. A burning spirit fueled by the cries she imagined ripped from the innocent. The tears they spilled oozing from her skin as she tore through another soldiers muscles, and she watched as their blood painted her red and saw only retribution.

Her blade slid against many throats, giving a fast death to those she admired for fighting well. Others who relied on their opponents bad fortune, waiting until they fall to the ground to pierce their hearts— they met more excruciating ends.

Her arms ached deliciously as she stood back, looking at some of her work— bodies on top of bodies—

“You are breath taking in red.”

Fluttering her eyes closed with slight, blissful exhaustion, Jaehaera replied, “You always said I’d be deadly.”

Their breathing mingled, filling the thick silence with heaving air and raised chests. Jaehaera’s eyes had shut tight basking in the sun that peaked out through the fog.

“The people will crown you for this,” Daemon stated, sheathing Dark Sister to his side once more, allowing her to rest. Jaehaera could hear his footstep but didn’t bother to move. “Would you let me serve you, my queen.”

If anyone else had placed a blade to Daemon Targaryen’s neck, they’d be dead within a second. But his words were treason, something no person in the realm could escape punishment for, he would revel in whatever she felt fit for him.

“Must you always seek a rise out of me?”

“It gives me your undivided attention.”

“You are a mess,” Jaehaera scoffed, her sword still steady as she twisted to face him properly.

“So are you, maybe we should bathe together.”

In any other scene Jaehaera would have laughed in his face, made a crude remark back, and leave him with a problem to fix himself. However, she could not look away from him, transfixed by the contrast of the rogue prince before her. His white hair stained with red, his eyes purple with blood magic, yet more black now than ever.

“You lost the bet,” Jaehaera whispered, easing closer to him and resting her head against his chest. Flicking braided hair to the side, she bared the back of her neck to him where a gash laid thick with dried blood. “He was a fine swords man.”

She could feel his heart start to pound, more fervently than ever. Than she felt his fingers, rough and calloused, delicately tracing the wound.

“How will you punish me?” His voice thin and disappointed.

Not for treason against the crown, but for breaking a promise to a woman standing alive before him.

“You’re growing soft Dae,” she said while letting her hand fall, easing the blade from his throat. “We will give our crowns to our King.”

“He would have you keep it—,”

“And I would have myself hanged,” she quipped. Looking up at him, finally, she could see his furrowed brows. “There is a balance to keep,” Jaehaera swept her fingers across his face, relieving the tension, trailing until she met his hair— the hair she was so fond of.

Gripping it tightly, she let her hand swing, and with a brief hiss from Daemon and the shing of her sword— he had lost his mane.

He could barely believe it. Eyes wide with shock as she slid her fingers through the new length, her nails grazing his scalp effortlessly. Years or growth cut off without a notice. His punishment.

A smile grew on his face as he watched he slip back, her own eyes in a daze. “You and your Dothraki customs.”

Shaking his head he braved her tightly, lifting her in the air despite her squeals, Daemon beamed like the sun. “Will you let me serve you now?”

“After failing your mission—,”

“You’ve already punished me for not keeping my promise, now reward me for my efforts,” he all but begged. “Let me clean you at least.”

She rested herself comfortably against him, allowing her arms to brace his shoulders and legs his waist. Jaehaera stared at him blankly before grabbing his jaw and whispering into his lips, “Fine, but cleaning only.”

.

.

.

There will be a follow up in: Came back a king… and queen

@bluecloudsworld @kyuupidwrites

[athenaareia]

Rhaenyra, Laenor, Laena, all singing: THEY SHAKE THEIR HEADS SAYING "GOD HELP HER" WHEN I TELL THEM HE'S MY MAN

Viserys, from afar: what is going on?

Rhaenyra, Laenor, Laena: BUT YOUR GOOD LORD DOESN'T NEED TO LIFT A FINGER

Rhaenys: *long suffering sigh, as she chugs a bottle of whiskey* Why, god, why-

Rhaenyra, Laenor, Laena: I CAN FIX HIM, NO REALLY, I CAN. AND ONLY I CAN

Corlys: they're all in love with Daemon.

Viserys: *joins Rhaenys* my only child-

[nightingale2004]

HOTD Fans. I need to know something. What would Rhaenys's reign look like if she was queen of the iron throne instead of Viserys?

What would change? Would she still marry Corlys? Would the dance of dragons still happen? Would Laenor and Laena still exist? How would Daemon react? How would Otto Hightower react? What would happen to viserys, Rhaenyra, and Alicent?

I need to know what would happen if our queen rhaenys was the "Queen that was"

[nebulablakemurphy]

The Queen’s Hand

(Part VII: Birthright)

Summary: Y/N Targaryen is Princess of the seven realms. First born daughter of, Viserys I and Aemma Targaryen. Heir to the iron throne, forced to make impossible decisions to ensure peace amongst the land and the safety of those she holds most dear.

Warning: this chapter includes the birth of Rhaenyra’s daughter who unfortunately does not survive.

Prologue | I | II | III | IV | V | VI

“This is treason and you know it.” Aemmia snaps, her cheeks flush from tears. Her eyes burning with the fire of the dragon.

“I understand that you are upset.” Aemond attempts to gentle his wife, “but you must compose yourself. This is not good for the babe.”

“It is too soon to know if I’m with child!”

“Helaena told me so.”

Aemmia sighs, looking away. Some consider Helaena mad, but Aemmia knows better. Viserys knew things he could not, same as her mother.

“Rhaenyra is the rightful heir. I intend to uphold her claim.” She says, with fierce determination.

“Aemmia, please.” Aemond catches her face in his hand. “I will no longer argue the legitimacy of Rhaenyra’s claim. But the fact remains, my mother and grandsire have set this chain of succession in motion. I cannot stop it. I cannot make Rhaenyra Queen anymore than I can raise my father from the dead. If we do not accept the crown it will pass to Aegon.”

“Aegon cannot be found.” Aemmia steps away from his hold.

“They’ve not been looking very hard.”

“Why not?”

“Because they do not wish to find him.” Aemond confesses. “This is best for everyone. You and I on the throne, the coronation will be peaceful.”

“Aemond, I will not betray my family. If we send for Rhaenyra-”

“If Rhaenyra becomes queen, she will kill my family.”

“Why do you believe this?” Aemmia wonders, have Otto’s lies poisoned him so? “My aunt is not vindictive or cruel. Now she may forbade you from speaking ill against her children, but she would not harm you.”

“Her children have done it before,” Aemond reminds her, “and even you spoke against me.”

“You called them bastards.”

“Are they not?” He challenges.

“They are Targaryens,” Aemmia corrects him, “same as you and I.”

“Hmm.”

“It was you who attacked them.”

“Attacked them? Four against one.” Aemond huffs. “Yet none of them maimed.”

“You tried to kill Jace.”

“I was trying to defend myself.”

“As Lucerys was defending his brother.” She dares him to argue.

“Say what you will, dear wife. But if it were me who harmed one of her children this way, my father would have removed my eye himself and presented it to Rhaenyra on a platter.”

Aemmia reels back at this, “I cannot say if that is true. You knew a much different man than I.”

“Because he loved you.” Aemond says simply. “A privilege I was not afforded.”

“I-”

“When all is said and done it matters not. With us on the throne, we can ensure the safety of your family and mine. You will have the power to unfuck this as you see fit. I cannot give all you ask of me, but I can make you Queen.” Aemond pauses, “Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men.”

“Why would you do that for me?” Her brow furrows.

“I despised you for years. Feeding into jealousy, unable to understand my father’s devotion to your mother and Rhaenyra’s children over me, his own son. But as I’ve come to know you, I see it a bit differently. We are not so different, two sides of the same coin. I…feel for you.”

“And I for you,” Aemmia breathes.

“I do not know if it is love, but I have never felt it for anyone else. I do not wish your family dead, I do not wish you to suffer. Allow me to do this for you.”

-———————————🌱———————————

“Y/N!”

The sound of her sister’s distressed cry sends the Princess scurrying to Rhaenyra’s rooms.

“Rhaenyra,” Y/N murmurs. She is in a state of undress, suited only for the birthing bed. Bent forward at the waist, gripping the door frame which overlooks the balcony. It is far too soon for her labors. “You must sit.”

“We are past that now.” Rhaenyra tells her. “This is happening.”

Y/N looks to the maester. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“I am afraid not, Princess.”

Rhaenyra reaches for her, “I need you.” Her voice is choked with pain.

Y/N crosses the room. Taking her sister’s hand and fussing about her endlessly. “I’m so sorry, Rhaenyra. I failed you.”

“Often times I felt the world has failed me, but never you, sister. Never have you failed me.” Rhaenyra gasps, clutching her belly.

“Let me help.” Y/N says, moving to knead the small of Rhaenyra’s back.

Rhaenyra shakes her head. “Daemon wishes to move immediately for the throne. He’s gone to madness.”

It’s been all of half an hour since the news arrived by raven. Alicent and Otto plan to use their absence to usurp Rhaenyra, forcing her own niece to take the crown.

“I know Aemmia and I love her like my own. She would not supplant me of her own free will. Whatever game Alicent is playing, I do not wish her to be caught in the cross fire. If Daemon moves it will be a blood bath, you know it as well as I.” Rhaenyra forces the words out between contractions.

“Rhaenyra, what would you have me do?” There’s blood, too much blood.

“You are the one meant to advise me.” Rhaenyra attempts a jest. “I have sent Jacaerys, whatever claim remains to me it is now his. I don’t not want any decision made while I’m abed.”

“I will send Harwin to back him,” Y/N suggests, “be sure Daemon is respectful of your wishes.”

“Harwin is an asset, but he holds little authority in court. Daemon trusts you, he may listen if you speak.”

“I do not wish to leave you this way.” Y/N confesses.

Rhaenyra reaches back, catching her sister’s hand. “It’s as mother always said, this is our battle field. We must learn to face it with a stiff upper lip. I will be alright until you return.”

Y/N nods, perhaps it is silly to worry. Rhaenyra has five children, but this is different. Still the Princess raises her chin, facing the council room with grace.

Harwin looks…perturbed to say the least. Daemon must be eating Jace alive.

“Might I ask exactly what is still up for discussion when your Queen has willed you wait for her? I assume my nephew, Jacaerys, was very clear.”

The room is silent for a long moment.

“Princess,” Lord Corlys, barely recovered from his injury in battle for the Step Stones, nods down to her hands.

Y/N follows his gaze, her mind spiraling with a grief so intense she has not yet felt it. She swallows, composing herself. Wiping her hands down the front of her dress to clean them; staining the material in her sister’s blood. “We are not to make any decisions in the absence of Rhaenyra.”

“We must make preparations, Y/N. War does not stop for a laboring Queen, I’m afraid. You will be most useful at my wife’s side.” Daemon tries to reason. However harsh his words, he does love Rhaenyra and wants her cared for in his absence.

“Daemon!” Rhaenyra cries. The awful sound of it echoing off the walls.

“Clearly you are the one she wants.” Y/N insists. “I will take over as head of this proceeding.”

“You would stand against your own daughter?”

“Wouldn’t it be best to first rally our allies?” Y/N ignores his question. “Assuming we know who still stands with us.”

Daemon looks down at Y/N’s hands again. “What of Aemmia?”

“Whatever my daughter hath done is in the name of this family, and our rightful queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. Aemmia is strong. She would not be so easily won over by the Hightowers. She would however be smart enough to play their game,” Y/N looks him dead in the eye, “and win.”

Daemon’s jaw ticks, “come Jacaerys, I will teach you the true meaning of loyalty.”

———————————-🌱———————————-

“Let the seven bear witness! It was King Viserys’ dying wish, that his first born child, Y/N Targaryen’s daughter, Aemmia Targaryen-”

Aemond feels his wife’s fingers tighten around his, as if the name startled her. Aemmia Strong is no more, he squeezes back. You’re alright.

“And his true born son, Aemond Targaryen, should succeed him. It is your great fortune and honor to witness this today. A new King and Queen to guide our city.”

Aemmia is grateful when she is asked to kneel to the High Septon, for fear she may faint. Her knees hit the top stair harder than strictly necessary. She can’t go through with this.

‘But, there is new hope. With Aemmia and Aemond’s union, our houses might stand together once more.’

Her grandsire’s words ring in her ears. This will not unite them. It will break any bonds that hold them. I cannot do it.

“May the warrior give them courage.”

I miss you, grandsire.

“May the smith lend strength to their sword and shield.”

I’m sorry, Rhaenyra.

“May the father defend them in their need.”

I need you, father.

“May the crone lift her shining lamp and guide their way to wisdom.”

Forgive me, mother.

With that the High Septon is finished.

“Crown of Viserys, the peaceful. Passed down to the next generation.”

Aemmia’s head is light, the metal of her grandsire’s crown too cool against her skin. Even it knows, it does not belong.

‘Tonight I want you to see me as I am.’

If only he were here. Her grandsire did not wish this. He would never let it happen.

“The crown of the conqueror, passed down through generations.” Criston Cole crowns Aemond next. A clear sense of accomplishment about him.

As if this has not been cruel enough, they are now expected to stand. Aemmia hopes no one will notice the wobble in her stance. Turning out to face the masses.

Aemond presses a kiss to her temple. Tis done. Drawing his sword, he kneels, presenting the blade for her to wield. He looks up at her, “my Queen.”

Aemmia takes the hilt carefully. Lifting it from his outstretched hand to the sky.

“All hail, her grace.” The Septon announces, though confused by the lack of ceremony. “Aemmia Targaryen, first of her name. Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the seven kingdoms, and protector of the realm. Aemmia the Queen!”

The applause starts slow, but is ever building. Aemond stands beside her proudly now, she has done her part. Her hand gone limp in his, eyes glossed over, she has checked out. Though no one but he is the wiser.

Only the explosion from the entrance and rubble flying in all directions pulls her from it. There is a dragon, she can make out the shape of someone on it’s saddle, but she cannot say who.

As the dust settles, Aemmia spots Rhaenys; Rhaenys sees her. Their eyes locked as Meleys rears back. Aemmia’s fingers curl around Aemond’s outstretched forearm. Though his body would do little to shield her, it is the only protection he has to offer.

The roar that sounds will live forever in her mind, no fire joins it. This is not and execution, it’s a warning.

———————————-🌱———————————-

“Ahhh!” Rhaenyra’s head falls forward in defeat.

“Good,” Y/N says, “very good. You’re nearly there.”

“Princess,” one of Rhaenyra’s maids calls, “you should not do this alone. Let us help you.”

Rhaenyra says nothing, bearing down against the pressure in her abdomen.

“Once more,” Y/N encourages, prepared to catch the babe.

Syrax cries out in distress as Rhaenyra brings her sixth child into the world.

The infant, a girl, perfect and beautiful. Completely still. She is small, but appears healthy though she does not cry. Y/N turns the baby over, rubbing at her back. “Come on, little one.”

Rhaenyra looks to her sister.

“We must have the maester!”

“Yes, Princess.”

“Y/N,” Rhaenyra shakes her head. “Give her here.”

“She will be alright.”

Rhaenyra leans her forehead to her sister’s. “Thank you for staying with me.”

Y/N slides the baby into Rhaenyra’s arms.

“I should like to be alone now.”

“I cannot leave you.” Not like this, she shouldn’t be alone.

“Even you cannot shield me from this. I have lost a child, I must grieve.”

It isn’t fair. Y/N forces herself to her feet. Covered in blood and the aftermath of a newborn babe. Holding her composure out the door, down the hall. But the tears come, hot and unbidden. Scorching her cheeks.

She tears at the strings of her gown as she walks, letting it pool at her feet then stepping over it. Shedding it the way a snake might shed it’s skin. She is different now, forever changed.

“My darling.” Harwin greets her just beyond the door of their guest chambers.

“I-” Y/N puts a hand up between them. “I cannot be comforted.”

Harwin holds his stance, not moving toward her. “You must have a bath.”

Y/N shakes her head. “There is a war to be fought.”

“In your dressing gown?”

“I do not have armor.”

“We will get you some, when the time comes.”

“Do not coddle me.”

“I apologize, that was not my intent. I only want to be sure you’ve thought this out.”

“Thought it out?” Y/N forms her mouth slowly around each word. “The Hightowers have held our daughter against her will and forced her to commit high treason. The repercussions of which sent Rhaenyra into such a state of distress that she has lost her child.”

“Viserys would have wanted-”

“My father is not here! He’s gone. Dead.” The word burns it’s way from her throat. “He left me and he’s never coming back.”

“Y/N,” Harwin runs a hand over his face.

“If my father were alive, he would open the floodgates and rain hellfire upon them.”

“Look at me.” Harwin crosses the room, taking her face in hand.

“She’s all I have left of my mother.” Y/N shoves him away. “All I have left of him. I cannot lose Rhaenyra. I will protect her at any cost and no one will take her from me!”

“My love, you are not yourself.”

“No, you’re wrong.” Y/N insists. “This is who I am, Harwin. This is who I’ve always been.”

“I have known you some thirty eight years, married to you for over twenty of them. I know who you are, Y/N Targaryen. I know you and I love you. Therefore I will be the first to tell you when you are making a mistake.”

“That is the problem, Harwin.” Her chest heaves with the weight of it. “I’ve changed, I am different.”

“Push me away and reel me in as you wish, but I will not abandon you. When you die it will be with my slain body at your feet, my sword and shield in your hand. If this is the war we are fighting I will stand at your side. I am not your enemy. I’m only asking to weigh our options.”

Her defenses dissipate. “Your patience and understanding touches me deeply. I do apologize for taking my frustrations out on you, it will not happen again.”

Harwin softens at this, “you need not apologize for being human.”

“I do not see a way back from this.” Y/N admits. “They have gone too far.” She puts a hand to her aching heart.

———————————-🌱———————————-

It has been three days. Three days since the coronation. Aemmia has just changed into her nightgown when she hears rustling from the adjoining room of her apartment.

Aemond.

“Come to celebrate?” Aemmia shakes her head. “I am exhausted from the day’s affairs. I wish to sleep.”

Silence.

“Aemond?” Aemmia turns to farther investigate. There is someone there, a man. His hood draw up, covering the top portion of his face. “Show yourself.”

The cloak is pulled back, Aemmia squints into the dimly lit corner. He reminds her of someone…someone she used to know. But it couldn’t possibly be, “Laenor?” Now she is seeing ghosts.

The man takes a step toward her. “Ser Lynis will do.”

“It was you? All these years, the one my mother was writing from the Step Stones.”

He nods.

“Does she know you’re here?”

“Your mother wanted to come herself, badly.” Laenor explains, “but I had a better chance of getting through the passage ways into the castle than she did.”

“Are you…staying?” Say yes. “Or perhaps I could come with you?” Please.

“Not just yet. But we do not want you to think yourself forgotten. Your family will not abandon you here, Aemmia.”

“In all these years I have not forgotten you. It is so good to see you again, Uncle.”

Laenor opens his arms to her, “come.”

Aemmia runs, all but jumping into the familiar hold of the man who would put her up on his shoulders as a child. “Will you tell her- tell my mother I did not want this.”

“She knows.” Laenor assures her.

“And the crown,” Aemmia makes a run for it, “my grandsire would want Rhaenyra to have it. Our true Queen.”

Laenor wraps his hand around it, tucking it safely into his satchel. “Well done, sweetheart. You’ve made us all proud.”

“Will I see you again?” Aemmia asks.

“When the time is right.”

Part VIII

Taglist @evyiione @giulia2372 @bubblebuttwade @hotd-fanfic @leoramage @hyperfiaxed-freak @chonisbestmistake @poemfreak306

[wishfulwithwine]

Eye of His Storm - Prologue

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Fem!Reader

She was the pure beauty of the Targaryens and Velaryons, only daughter of Rhaenyra and Laenor Velaryon, second child.

He was the scarred, menacing son of the King Viserys and Alicent Hightower.

They put together the broken pieces of their lives, and made each other whole.

Warning: series will have INCEST, cursing, smut, violence, ptsd, alcohol, and other possible triggers. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF MINOR. 18+ ONLY

photo from pinterest

Y/N stood faithfully next to her father at Laena’s funeral, wrapping her arms around him as Y/N tried to comfort him while Laenor did his best to be stoic. 

As the second child and only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon, Y/N was seen as the sunshine of the family. The gem of the Velaryon house - as she was also the only child that was clearly visible the product of the two wedded parents. 

Her skin wasn’t nearly as dark as her father’s, nor her cousins Baela and Rhaena, but she had a glow to her skin unlike her mother and brothers. Her hair and eyes were the same color as both of theirs, but the silkiness of her hair was Rhaenyra’s. Y/N was pleased her hair did not have the typical Velaryon texture, as her father showed how his unruly hair troubled him daily. 

There was never any question of her legitimacy, in contrast to that of her brothers.

During the funeral, as the only child that looked like her father, Y/N was subject to the staring, as the Velaryon legacy was whispered about. She heard the whispers from Princess Rhaenys, Lord Vaemond, the Queen, and everyone else it seemed. 

All throughout the ceremony, she kept her head down or buried her face in her father’s side, unwilling to look at anyone. Her mother was more concerned with her brother’s - Jace, who wished to be mourning his actual father at Harranhaal, and Luke, who was too young to quite understand anything. Y/N reasoned that her mother’s increased attachment to the boys was because of the loss of Ser Harwin, however it didn’t make it feel any better. It wasn’t the first time she didn’t feel the affection of her mother, and Y/N knew it wouldn’t be the last. Y/N was a product of duty, not love, and Y/N felt more alone than anyone else. 

After the funeral, when everyone was eating, she followed her father to wade in the water. He was clearly drunk, but she’d rather be with her father than the eyes of everyone else. 

When Laenor got too drunk, Ser Qarl brought him and Y/N back to Laenor’s chambers, where Laenor brought out some more wine, drinking again, trying to drown out the memories of his sister. It didn’t take long before Ser Qarl told her to leave in order to put her father to bed.

As she passed through to go to her own room, she heard her grandparents’ Rhaenys and Corlys’ conversation of heirs - how Princess Rhaenys wished to transfer the Driftmark inheritance to Laena’s daughters or state Y/N instead of Luke as heir, since none of the boys were of true Velaryon blood. Lord Corlys denied it, however, as they both knew how women were treated, and “names were to be remembered”. 

Tears flooded her eyes, as Y/N scurried away as quickly as she could without being noticed, before she saw Helaena and hung out with her in her room. The girls had grown close, almost as sisters, as both the middle children with only brothers at Kings’ Landing. Y/N didn’t mind Helaena's fascination with bugs - although Y/N had learned that the spiders were something that she did not want to touch or be near. 

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Alicent asked, when she saw her with Helaena playing. Alicent had noticed the red eyes from tears all too well on Y/N’s face, despite the fake smile Y/N was showing to her daughter to keep Helaena happy. Y/N turned to Alicent, a woman that although had drifted apart from her own mother, was someone that she didn’t have any bad interactions with. Y/N looked down at her hands, before looking over to Helaena, before back to Alicent.

“My Queen, may I - may I talk to you?” Y/N asked, softly. Alicent gave the girl a soft smile, nodding as she gestured the girl away from her daughter. 

“What is troubling you?” Alicent asked, looking at the girl who had become so close with her daughter, as well as Aemond. To be honest, Alicent was surprised Aemond wasn’t there as well, considering whenever Y/N was around, so was he. 

“Everyone’s talking about my brothers and I, how different I look from them, and I don’t know how to deal with the stares. How do you - how are you always so calm as Queen? I..It’s overwhelming” Y/N said. “I apologize. I know I should ask my mother this but-“

“But nothing, sweet girl. Y/N, you have been my daughter’s best friend since she was born, and technically you are family. Everyday is a new battle, I suppose. I am grateful that you think I am calm, sweet girl. I cannot tell you how to stop the stares, but just know that you have done nothing wrong. You are a beautiful girl, my darling, absolutely perfect,” Alicent said, treading lightly on her words, as she brought the girl into a hug. Alicent looked up, locking eyes with Ser Cole, who was staring at both of them with regret. 

When Rhaenyra had proposed the joining of houses, she had no problems with Y/N and Aegon marrying. However, in order to protect Helaena from marrying Jace, a bastard, she needed to marry Aegon to Helaena. Y/N was the daughter Alicent wished she had, a girl who enjoyed the finer things such as painting and needlepoint, and who’s mother clearly did not appreciate near enough. 

“Thank you, my Queen” Y/N said, holding Alicent a bit tighter, before going back to play with Helaena. 

Soon there was loud commotion outside the room, and Alicent was urgently brought out to address a fight that had occurred between the other children. She had instructed the guards to keep you and Helaena there, protected, until she otherwise said so. 

“He’ll have to lose an eye” Helaena mumbled, and it stroked fear inside of Y/N. Worried, she tried to see anything outside the window or hear anything from the guards, but all she could do was wait with Helaena. 

It was a while before they found out what had happened, Aemond came through the doors, alongside his mother, Otto and some maesters.

“Oh Aemond!” Y/N said, rushing over to him as soon as he was settled in a chair, holding his hand, as tears started to fall down Y/N’s cheeks as they stared at one another. Y/N was on the side that he could still see, as the maesters worked on the injury on the other side of his face.  “Who did this to you? Gods, I’ll kill them. Tell me who and I’ll rip their eye out” Y/N said, with such conviction, that Alicent’s stomach dropped. Although she was still furious at Rhaenyra and her sons for doing this, it clearly was not Y/N. Her family once again putting her in the crosshairs of the drama.

“It’s okay. I claimed Vhagar” Aemond said, which seemed to soften Y/N’s face. Everyone stared at the pair, but each other’s focus was on the other. There was love there, it seemed. Love that everyone had seemingly ignored.

“I’m so proud of you, Aemond. You got the dragon you deserve. That is not enough, though, and whoever did this to you needs to be punished. I don’t care who it is” Y/N told him, squeezing his hand lightly, before looking to Alicent who she knew would tell her.

“It was your brother, Lucerys. Your brothers and cousins attacked him” Alicent said, regretfully to the girl. The maesters and guards who were in the room were surprised at Alicent’s response, seeing her reaction during the fight and now with the daughter of who she injured.

Y/N stilled, shocked by her family’s actions, before hugging Aemond closer.

“Oh gods, I am so sorry” Y/N cried, kneeling on the ground besides Aemond, placing her head on his arm. Aemond reached out his hand, rubbing her back, with almost a tilt of a smile, looking down at the girl he loved - which didn’t go unnoticed by Alicent.

“Take my eye” Y/N whispered, looking directly at him. The room silenced with shock. 

“No” Aemond stated.

“Take my eye. I assume my mother has protected her sons, but I’m here. Take my eye. Let me repay the debt” Y/N said, tears falling down her face as she looked to Alicent, who was struggling internally. 

Here was the daughter of her now enemy - willing to sacrifice for her son, understanding the debt to be paid. Alicent looked over at her father, who shook his head.

“You are too good for this family, Y/N. You did nothing wrong. You are not to be blamed for the sins of your brothers” Alicent said, coming closer to the girl. 

“Then I’ll go get it from Lucerys” Y/N said, going to stand before Aemond pulled on her, causing her to stop, kneeling back and being by his side.

“Don’t leave me” He pleaded, and she looked over to Alicent.

“Stay, it is Aemond’s wish. The King has ordered this all to be done, so there are no actions to be taken” Alicent said, trying not to let the bitterness she still held show. Y/N nodded, and rested her head back against Aemond’s shoulder.

“I will stay here as long as you’ll want me” Y/N promised, as the maester finished working on Aemond.

Aemond couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face, as he held Y/N closer to his side. He may have lost an eye, but he got a dragon and it seemed his love as well.

[ladystarksneedle]

Hotd characters as Greek gods

Rhaenys as Athena

Corlys as Poseidon

Laenor as Apollo

Daemon as Ares

Criston as Hephaestus

[witchofhimring]

Rhaenyra losing her daughter in childbirth

Warnings: death, childbirth, trauma

So I promised that my next writing of Rhaenyra would be happy. But I suddenly had this plot bunny so we have angst again.

-She still had nightmares of her own mothers death. She had not been there but that did not stop images of a knife cutting up her mother from haunting Rhaenyra. They were less frequent these days, she was done having children and the fear was abated. Her fate would not be in the birthing bed. When Rhaenyra's only daughter excitedly told her mother that she was with child it came roaring back with a vengeance. Now it was no longer herself under that knife but her daughter.

-At first Rhaenyra tried to console herself with the fact that Y/n had the best maesters on hand. Y/n was constantly examined and Rhaenyra was informed of any changes. As Y/n's belly grew those fears became more prominent. She could hardly walk without her mother hovering about. Rhaenyra will have pillows situated on every seat throughout the Red Keep.

-Rhaenyra finds it hard to fully get excited about the baby. Not that she did not want grandchildren. Especially since Y/n had always wanted to be a mother. She tries to be happy for her sake. Rhaenyra will listen to her daughter's excited rambling and feign happiness. But deep inside she is petrified with fear.

-During the nights Rhaenyra's nightmares will continue. Sometimes she wakes up in a sweat and frantically wake. She throws on a robe and walks to her daughters room. Y/n will be there sleeping peacefully, chest rising and falling. For a while Rhaenyra will watch as if expecting something bad to happen. Eventually Rhaenyra will quietly walk back to her room.

-By the seventh month Y/n's mobility is greatly decreased. She has to lean on her mother for support. Rhaenyra tries to remain calm and support her girl. When Y/n falls into anxiety Rhaenyra tries to cheer her daughter up. Because walking is difficult Rhaenyra props up pillows under the Weirwood tree. As Y/n lays there Rhaenyra reads her favourite stories. In the meantime Rhaenyra will summon merchants to bring items from all over Westeros and Essos with various goods. These items are not just for the baby but Y/n as well. Rhaenyra imports goods that helped her through the pregnancies she carried. Balms that sooth her aching muscles are applied to Y/n's skin on a daily basis. Teas that sooth her aching belly are administered by Rhaenyra. While Rhaenyra was never truly taken to sweing she began to make comfortable dresses that her daughter could wear.

-When Y/n goes into confinement Rhaenyra does with her. Of course as Queen Rhaenyra has other responsibilities to attend to so there are times she leaves. And there are some who complain that the Queen spends too much time away from her desk. But right then she did not care, Y/n was her priority. Although confinement is a custom, when Y/n asks for the windows to be opened Rhaenyra does so. She does not care what the ladies say. She dreads her daughter feeling miserable leading up to the labor. They try to keep their mind off what will take place in a few weeks time. Y/n speaks of wanting to see Dragonstone again when she recovers and Rhaenyra promises her so.

-Y/n's labor start of the day the maesters said it would. Rhaenyra is woken by her daughter shaking her. Y/n is quaking and hunched over. Blood and other bodily fluids are staining her nightgown. In a moment the room is busy with maesters, midwives and ladies. Word goes around that the princess in in labor and that night people go to the sept to pray. Rhaenyra holds her daughters hands as every pained breath escapes Y/n quivering mouth. They give her herbs for the pain but it does not stop the blood. A days passes, then two, and the horrid realization that her fears might come true horrifies Rhaenyra.

-She tells the maesters that if they cut Y/n open she will feed them to Syrax. Eventually, as Y/n fades in and out of consciousness, Rhaenyra gives them her consent to try something. Since the baby will not come out on its own they will have to turn it. The idea makes Rhaenyra physically ill and she has to puke pile into a bowl. She goes to her daughter and whispered "I love you" before her legs are forced apart and the maesters hands go in. She begs her daughter to just hold on a little longer. Y/n's hand seizes hers with abnormal strength and Rhaenyra prays. Let her daughter live.

-The baby arrives into the world wailing. Y/n falls onto the bedding and Rhaenyra lets out a cry of relief. The baby, much stronger than her brother Baelon had been, kicks its strong legs and flails its fists. She turns to her daughter and the smile dies. Y/n's skin has a sickly hue to it. Her eyes seem to fade and the grip slackens. "Y/n!" She screams out.

-They lead the screaming Queen out. Daemon is summoned to pick his wife up and he carries her to their shared room. She is screaming and crying, unaware that she is not even beside her daughter anymore. They force something warm and bitter down her throat and Rhaenyra unwillingly floats into unconsciousness.

-She wakes two days later. Beside her are the children, her son Jaecerys holding her hand. Lucerys is holding her newest grandchild with Jeoffrey peering down at her. The youngest two are in their fathers arms. Rhaena and Baela stand by the fireplace shielding themselves from the rest of the family in their distress. Daemon says nothing and simply takes his wive's hand. "I'm sorry." Is all he can say.

- She prepares your body alone. Rhaenyra can not bear the thought of unfamiliar Silent Sisters touching you, even dead. She quietly sings old songs her own mother once sang. Rhaenyra prays that you were up with Aemma. Oh if only the two of you could have met. She does not wrap you up, she always knew you hated enclosed spaces. You are dressed in red and black with a diadem placed on the h/c locks. Once she had made it for you to pass down. Now the thought of anyone having it but you was more than she could bear. Rhaenyra is riding behind your carriage, pale and weeping. This is her mothers death all over again. When they reach Rhaenys's Hill Rhaenyra can not bring herself to light the pyre. It is her eldest son who does the honor, Vermax's flames engulfing Y/n's body. Rhaenyra does not remember the rest of the day.

-One night, weeks later, Y/n visits her mother in dreams. She was with her grandmother in and endless sea of flowers. They were both laughing as the sun danced off their skin. Rhaenyra had never thought much about the afterlife. But as she looked upon her daughter and mother she prayed they were happy. A bright sun hailed the day. Rhaenyra lay in bed for a few moments as some deep emotion stirred within her. The feeling was like a new emotion awakening within her. It was not pain yet it stabbed within her like a knife. With an aching chest Rhaenyra threw a robe over her body. It was early enough that only the servants were awake. The babies room was silent except for small rustling noises. Peaking into the crib her grandchild stared up at her with wide eyes. Rhaenyra's heart nearly stopped as she realized this baby had Y/n's eyes. With steady hands Rhaenyra picked up the baby. It stirred and made cooing noises before Rhaenyra held the baby to her chest. Warmth spread throughout her body as this last piece of her daughter reached out for Rhaenyra. She walked over to a chair and picked up a book. It was Y/n's favourite, the one Rhaenyra read to her. Rhaenyra cradled her grandchild close and read.

[maidragoste]

GUYS I JUST GOT AN IDEA

Just think of a Reader! Celtigar (it is the first family that occurred to me but it may be from another house) being the ward of Rhaenys and Corlys. Corlys hopes to raise Reader to be Laenor's future wife but in the end she ends up spending more time with Laena and falling in love with her.

At first Corlys is pleased that at least you're managing to make friends with his daughter but then Laena begins to get annoyed every time he insists you spend more time with Laenor and becomes suspicious. The servants then inform him that you no longer sleep in your chambers but instead sneak out of Laena's chambers every morning. He tries to fool himself into thinking it's just a sleepover between friends but his fear is confirmed when Rhaenys caught you and Laena kissing.

Now Corlys not only has to make sure that people don't talk about Laenor and his squires, but now he also has to worry that they don't talk about Laena and his ward...At least he can rest assured that Laena isn't going to end up having a bastard.

[neonlight2]

Hotd Masterlist (Jaehaera Targaryen OC)

Greenvsblack x Jaehaera

Warning: toxic as fuck, really bad family dynamics— but there’s literal incest and murder so it shouldn’t be a shocker— insanity, murder, mentions of blood and violence (which kinda implies gore as well), smut and all kinks that come with it, again (just to reiterate) there’s incest. These are Targaryens we’re talking about. And then you have the given triggers: sexism, classism, misogyny, etc.

Hope you enjoy reading, and think about how useful this character would have been in the show. Seriously— dumb shit will be addressed.

***

Columns:

The beginning: how Jaehaera came to be.

How the family members reacted when meeting her?

Childhood: How she grew up/dynamics/rivalry

How did Viserys (and the others) feel about her training to be a knight?

What was her relationships like as she grew older?

How did everyone react to her growing up and becoming more… scandalous? Part 1 Part 2

How whipped does she have everyone?

Scenes:

Jousting tournament

Sneaking away with Rhaenyra and Daemon.

Matchmaking (Laenor and Rhaenyra engagement)

Egg retrieval

War alongside Daemon

Came back a king… and queen

The hunt

The incident

Throne counsel, where Rhaenyras son’s legitimacy was questioned.

Family dinner

Imagines/preferences:

Viserys listens to his darling daughter, he has no need for Otto

Sexuality

The boys don’t want Jaehaera to get married just as much as she doesn’t

Dragon

[icarusignite]

Before the Sky Falls | Ch.1

A/N: Finally started updating this fic lol. Would love to hear your thoughts <3

Word Count: 4.5K

All chapters: Masterlist

AO3    |    Wattpad  

High Valyrian Words:

kepa = father

ñuha tala = my daughter

The world is brighter than the sun, now that you're here

"Come on, Aemond! We mustn't keep Grandsire waiting! Tonight's story is going to be the most exciting!"

Five-year-old Daenys Velaryon sprinted through the bustling corridors of the Red Keep, her pale hair streaming behind her. Once or twice, she stumbled, tripping over the hem of her nightgown but her hand was clasped firmly in that of her dearest friend, Aemond Targaryen, and he was there to steady her every time. Her other hand clutched a large leather-bound book to her chest, arms almost trembling with the effort as she led the way to her grandfather's chambers for their nightly routine.

Prince Aemond, also a child of five, but with a more reserved demeanour, trailed behind his spirited niece, his steps hesitant.

"Slow down," he scolded, tugging at her hand. "If you trip again, I'll just let you fall this time."

Daenys turned around and stuck out her tongue at him playfully, "You would not!"

"I would!"

"Okay, okay, I'll slow down, but I'm blaming you if Grandsire gets upset that we're late."

"It's not like Father ever gets upset with you anyways," Aemond rolled his eyes, a hint of wistfulness in his voice.

As they approached a grand set of ornate double doors, Daenys slowed her pace, casting a quick glance back at Aemond. Sensing his apprehension, she paused, concern filling her bright eyes, watching him carefully as he fidgeted nervously.

"You...you don't have to come if you really don't want to," she mumbled.

"No. It's just. I think I should go see Mother. I promised her I would."

"You don't wanna hear the story?"

"Maybe I'll come another time. Mother's been so busy with Daeron and she's so tired. I don't wanna make her sad by not going."

Daenys' shoulders drooped, disappointment etched across her delicate features. Her small hand slipped out of Aemond's grasp.

"But, I wanted to hear the story with you."

Aemond laughed, reaching out to pinch her cheeks and she scowled as swatted his hand away.

"I told you not to do that!" she pouted.

"Well, I'm older than you so I can do whatever I want!"

"No, you can't! You're only..." she held up her fingers trying to count, "some moons older."

"You don't even know how many," he teased.

"Well, do you?"

"Yeah, but I'm not telling!"

"Bully!"

"See you tomorrow, Daenys," he pinched her again and scampered off down the hallway before she could chase him.

"You better tell the baby I said hello!" she hollered after him before pushing open the heavy doors, revealing the stately room of her grandfather, King Viserys.

The chamber was adorned with rich tapestries, towering bookshelves, and a roaring fire that cast a warm glow across the room. The scent of aged leather and parchment fills the air, creating an atmosphere of wisdom and comfort. His diorama of Old Valyria took up a large chunk of the room, and as always, it took Daenys's breath away with its intricate detail and sheer scale.

The King was seated in his armchair in front of the fire as usual and his face beamed when he saw his granddaughter.

"Ah, my little princess, you've come! And what tale have you brought me tonight?"

Daenys bounded toward him, her book still clutched tightly in her arms, and leaped onto his lap with a contagious giggle. The King's eyes twinkled with tenderness as he enveloped her in a warm embrace. When she handed him the book, his eyebrows arched in surprise as he glanced at the title, The Tale of Aegon the Conqueror.

"We're in the mood for a tale of battles and conquest tonight aren't we?" he mused. "Haven't we read this one before though?"

"Yes! I want to hear it again. Please Grandsire."

"And what do you find so fascinating about this particular story, Daenys?"

"Visenya! She's the best. And she has a sword!" Daenys exclaimed, bouncing in her seat. "She's so brave, Grandsire, and I want to be brave too!"

"Ah, so you have a fascination with Visenya and her sword, do you? Well, she was indeed a remarkable warrior. But remember, my dear, bravery comes in many forms. You possess your own unique strengths."

"But I want to be brave with a sword too! Why can't I learn to fight like Visenya?"

The king leaned back, his expression thoughtful as he considered her words, "You know there are other important skills that you can excel at. Knowledge, diplomacy, and the ability to inspire others can be just as powerful, if not more so. You are the heir to the Iron Throne, those talents will serve you better."

"But I want to be strong like Visenya! And Father! I want to protect the realm too!"

"And you will my dear. Strength isn't always measured by the swing of a sword."

"Father said he'd teach me. When I get older. He says I'm too small to wield a sword, which is silly. I am plenty big enough."

King Viserys smiled warmly, "Well I for one am in no hurry to see you grow up, my Daenys. I like you just the way you are. Now let us read."

He kissed her forehead and she nestled closer to him, eager to dive into the tale of Aegon the Conqueror and his fierce sister. As the king began to read, Daenys's imagination soared,

As King Viserys's soothing voice filled the room with tales of battles and conquest, Daenys's imagination transported her to a world where dragons roared across the skies and heroes rose to meet their destinies. She listened intently, her eyes closed, imagining herself as the hero of such a tale. Amid the story, Daenys couldn't help but interrupt her grandfather, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Grandsire, Visenya had her own dragon too right? Like Aegon did?"

"Indeed, Daenys. Visenya, like her brother Aegon, rode a magnificent dragon named Vhagar. Together, they were an unstoppable force, uniting the Seven Kingdoms."

"Aunt Laena rides Vhagar now doesn't she?"

"Yes, she does."

"How wonderful! She must be so strong, just like Visenya. I saw her you know, when she came to visit Mother last year."

King Viserys hummed in acknowledgement, content to just hear her prattle on about the various members of their household and their dragons.

"I wish I could ride a dragon too, Grandsire. Imagine soaring through the clouds, seeing everything from up above," her excited expression dropped. "Father took me once. It was lovely."

The king's gaze softened as he watched his granddaughter, empathizing with her longing for a dragon companion. His thoughts flickered to the old dragon he himself had claimed long ago.

"You know, even Jace's egg hatched, and mine still hasn't."

"My dear, I understand your sadness. Having a dragon bond is indeed a remarkable gift, but it is not something that can be forced or controlled. Dragons choose their riders, just as riders choose their dragons. It is a connection that goes beyond our understanding."

"But why haven't any dragons chosen me, Grandsire? What if I'm not worthy?"

The king gently took her small hand in his, reassuring her with his touch, "Oh, my sweet Daenys, your worthiness is not defined by the presence of a dragon. Dragons are magnificent creatures, but they are not a measure of one's value or greatness. Your worth lies in your heart, your kindness, your strength, and the choices you make."

Daenys nodded, and the king smiled. He reached into the pocket of his robe and drew out a wooden figurine which he handed to her. Her fingers traced the details carved onto the wooden dragon, eyes shining with curiosity.

"What's this, Grandsire?"

"A dragon of your very own. For now at least, until you claim a real one," King Viserys grinned. "Do you like it?"

"Oh, I love it! Thank you!"

"Anything for you."

"Then will you tell me about your dragon? I've heard stories of Balerion the Black Dread, the mightiest dragon of all. Did you really ride him?" Daenys continued.

King Viserys's eyes gleamed with a mixture of fondness and nostalgia as he delved into his memories.

"We did not have much time together, Balerion and I. He died but just a year after I claimed him."

"Did you never claim another dragon, Grandsire?"

"Hmm, I suppose I never cared for it. A Targaryen only ever bonds with one dragon in their lifetime. There was no one else for me besides the Black Dread, and even though he died, that did not change."

Just then, a timid knock sounded at the door. One of Daenys's handmaids peeked her head in after a moment, her voice soft.

"The hour is late, Princess. It is time for bed."

Daenys cast a longing glance toward her grandfather, her eyes filled with reluctance. She didn't want the magical evening to end.

"Do I have to go, Grandsire? Can't I stay a little longer?"

"Fear not, my dear. I will be here tomorrow night. And on that eve, I shall tell you the tale of Daenys the Dreamer, the visionary after whom you were named."

"Truly? There was another Daenys?"

"Indeed, my dear. It is a tale steeped in prophecy, dreams, and the power of foresight. I think you will find it quite fascinating."

Daenys's handmaid stepped forward, her presence a reminder of the passage of time, "Princess, it's time for bed. You may continue your stories tomorrow night."

With a heavy sigh, Daenys allowed King Viserys to set her down on the floor and her spirits were lifted by the promise of another enchanting tale.

"Goodnight Grandsire," she planted a soft kiss on his weathered cheek.

"Sleep well, my brave princess. Dream of the wonders yet to come. And tomorrow night, the story of Daenys the Dreamer we shall unfold."

Once outside the king's doors, Daenys turned to her handmaiden with a pleading look in her eyes, "Edith, may we stop by the gardens for a moment before bed."

"Princess, it is late and the gardens are chilly. You'll catch a cold if you go outside in your nightgown."

"I know but it's important, please. I just need a moment in the gardens. I promise I won't stay out for long."

"Very well. I will accompany you, but we must make it quick, and you mustn't linger."

Daenys nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with gratitude as they made their way toward the moonlit gardens. The cold night air kissed her cheeks, but she paid it no mind. Her focus was fixed on a single purpose. As they entered the gardens, she moved between the blooming flowers, her small hands carefully plucking blossoms of various hues.

"What on earth are you doing, Princess?" Edith frowned at the sight of Daenys on her hands and knees in the grass.

"These only bloom at night. I wanted to take some to Mother. She's been so tired and grumpy lately. Maybe these will cheer her up."

"And how do you know that these only bloom during the night, Princess?"

"Aemond told me," Daenys returned in a matter-of-fact tone.

"The Prince? He told you?"

"Yes. He knows everything about everything, so he must be right."

Edith chuckled, "I suppose he must then, but we really ought to head back inside."

As Daenys and Edith made their way back through the castle corridors, Daenys suddenly deviated from the usual path. Edith, puzzled by the change in direction, quickened her pace to catch up with the determined princess.

"Where are we going? This isn't the way to your or Princess Rhaenyra's chambers."

Daenys glanced back at Edith, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, as she continued on her determined path, "I have one more stop to make, Edith. It's a secret surprise."

Edith's confusion transformed into curiosity, and she followed Daenys down familiar hallways and staircases until eventually, they arrived at a grand door adorned with ornate carvings. Edith hesitated, unsure if it was appropriate to call upon the Queen at such a late hour, but Daenys, brimming with anticipation, raised her fist to knock.

"Enter!" came a tired voice from inside.

Edith stayed hidden behind the doorway as Daenys made her way into the spacious chambers. Queen Alicent sat by the fireplace, rocking her youngest son as he dozed fitfully, occasionally letting out a whimper. She was startled when she saw Daenys, straightening up.

"Daenys, my dear! What brings you here at this late hour?"

Daenys approached the queen with a shy smile, holding out a small bundle of flowers, "I brought these for you. I thought they might make you not be sad anymore. Aemond said that you were tired."

Alicent threw her second son a curious glance where he was comfortably seated on her bed with a book in his hand, "Oh did he now?"

"Yep!"

Alicent's eyes warmed as she accepted the bouquet from Daenys and ruffled her hair, "Thank you, my sweet."

"May I say hello to the baby?" Daenys peered curiously at the sleeping child in Alicent's arms.

"Be careful not to wake him. It took quite a while to get him to settle down."

Daenys nodded solemnly, pressing a finger to her lips in a silent promise. She shuffled closer to Alicent's chair, eyes roving over Daeron's pale hair and minuscule features.

"He's so so tiny. Just like Jace," she whispered in a hushed tone.

Alicent rubbed an affectionate thumb over the babe's cheek, "I suppose he is."

"Do you think they'll be friends, Queen Alicent? Like you and my mother, and Aemond and I?"

Alicent glanced at Daenys through the corner of her eye, noting her childish hope and naiveté.

"Perhaps," she answered vaguely.

"Goodbye baby Daeron," Daenys mumbled softly before making her way toward the main reason she had come to the Queen's chambers.

Meanwhile, Aemond, who had been sitting in a corner of the room, perked up when Daenys approached him.

"Aemond! Look what I brought you!" she whispered.

"Why are we whispering?" he leaned his head closer to hear her better.

Daenys rolled her eyes as she brought out the carved dragon King Viserys had given to her.

"Look at this, isn't it lovely? Grandsire gave it to me, and I thought you might like to have it."

Aemond's eyes widened in panic, "Wait no. I can't take this. Father gave it to you."

"And now I'm giving it to you. I was feeling sad about not having a dragon and it made me feel better so now I want you to feel better too. Grandsire said that it doesn't matter if your siblings already have dragons. You'll get one soon too!" her voice held a slight lisp as she spoke quickly, tripping over her words slightly.

Aemond shook his head, pushing the figure back into Daenys's hands, making her frown.

"He could've just said that to me himself..." he mumbled under his breath.

"Do you not like it?"

"It's not that."

"Would you take it if it looked prettier?" Daenys reached up to pull her red ribbon out of her hair and tied it into a bow around the dragon's neck. Her hair came tumbling down around her shoulders, some of it falling into her eyes.

A small laugh escaped the young prince as he watched her try to blow it away with pursed lips. He let her press the newly decorated toy into his palms.

"Thank you Daenys."

Daenys poked his cheek, "You don't need to say that to friends silly."

"I told you I'm older than you. I can do anything," he flicked her forehead.

"One day, I'll be older than you!" she huffed.

"Who's the silly one now? You can't ever be older than me."

"I'll find a way!"

"You can't!"

"I'm leaving," Daenys announced. "You're a silly silly pigeon Aemond."

"You can't call me that!"

"Well, I just did."

Daenys grinned at being able to use the newest word she'd learned earlier that day.

"Silly pigeon Aemond," she sang as she waved goodbye to Alicent's amused form.

Daenys's next stop was her mother's chambers, much to Edith's chagrin as she followed the little princess around the dark castle halls.

"Princess, your mother is surely asleep by now. It is late and being with child means that she needs all the rest she can get," Edith cautioned.

Daenys slowed to a halt in front of her door, hesitating, "I won't bother her."

"If she's sleeping, your arrival will wake her up."

"I'll be really quiet. I promise. I'll just take one little look and if she's sleeping, I promise I'll leave."

After Edith's reluctant nod, Daenys cracked her mother's door open ever so slowly and stuck her head just enough to take a look inside. Candlelight spilled out from her mother's chambers, indicating that she was still awake.

"I can see you," Princess Rhaenyra sighed from her place on her bed, hand resting gingerly on her swollen belly, a look of weariness etched on her face. But as soon as Daenys entered the room, her tired eyes lit up with a mixture of love and surprise.

"Daenys, my sweet girl. What brings you here at this hour?"

Daenys rushed to her mother's side, her arms outstretched, flowers in hand, "Mother! I brought you flowers! They're to make you smile."

"Thank you, my little flower, but you're all I need to make me smile."

Daenys clambered onto the bed and nestled herself beside her mother, snuggling against her, seeking the solace of her embrace.

"Mother, can I sleep with you tonight? I miss you, and I want to be close to you."

Edith, ever watchful of Princess Rhaenyra's well-being, stepped into the room, concern evident on her face, "Princess Rhaenyra, you are due soon. We must ensure your comfort and rest."

Daenys's bottom lip trembled, her eyes pleading, "But Edith, I want to spend time with Mother. I promise to be careful. Please, oh please. I promise I won't hurt the new baby."

Rhaenyra observed the exchange, her heart melting at the sight of Daenys's longing. She reached out, pulling Daenys into her embrace. She kissed her forehead and tucked her daughter's face into her neck.

"Edith, thank you for your concern. But I think I'll be fine. Daenys can sleep with me tonight. It will bring us both comfort."

"Very well, Princess Rhaenyra. But please be careful and let me know if you need any assistance during the night," Edith bowed low before closing the shit behind her as she departed.

Daenys's face lit up with joy, her heart dancing with the prospect of spending the night with her mother. She snuggled close, finding comfort in her warmth and the rhythmic beat of her heart.

"Do you want to feel the babe?" Rhaenyra smiled at Daenys, taking her small hand and placing it on her stomach.

There was a slight kick under Daenys's palm and she yanked it away as if burned.

"Does it hurt you?" she frowned. "It feels weird!"

Rhaenyra laughed, "Not so much anymore."

Daenys's frown grew deeper as she wagged a stern finger at her mother's belly, "You better not hurt my mother, or you'll be in big big trouble!"

"Oh Daenys, he's not hurting anyone."

"He? Do I get another brother?"

"Yes, I think so."

"How do you know?"

"A mother's intuition, love."

Daenys was silent for a moment before another question spilled out, "Did I ever kick you?"

Rhaenyra tugged on her ear playfully, "Oh, yes. You were a terrible kicker."

"I hurt you?" Daenys's lips turned down and she threw her arms around her mother, kissing her cheeks fervently. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Mother. I'm so sorry."

"You could never hurt me you sweet thing. Now let us go to bed. Between Jace and the new babe, your brothers seldom let me get a wink of sleep."

In the midst of their peaceful slumber, Daenys was abruptly awoken by her mother's restless movements and grimaces of discomfort. Daenys bolted up in bed, her heart racing as she observed her distress. She gently shook her awake.

"Mother, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

Rhaenyra's breathing was laboured as she attempted to sit up and lean against the headboard. The candle had long burnt out, leaving the room in utter darkness and Rhaenyra fumbled with her bedclothes, feeling the trickle of something warm between her legs. The ache in her lower stomach intensified and she let out an agonized groan.

"Mother! Should I call someone? Should I call Edith?"

Rhaenyra, her voice strained, reached out and grasped Daenys's trembling hand, "I need the midwives. Only they can help. Hurry, my love."

Daenys nodded, her eyes filled with determination. She slid out of bed and darted out of the room. She tripped at the door in her haste, her face slamming into one of the chairs nearby. At the sound of the crash, Rhaenyra groaned in pain again.

"Are you alright darling, did you fall?"

"I'm fine. I'm fine," Daenys scrambled up, shoving the chair out of the way.

She didn't know where to find the midwives so she went to the only other place she could think of, Queen Alicent's chambers. She banged on the door with urgency, and Alicent opened it after a few moments, yawning and rubbing sleep from her eyes. Concern coloured her face as she saw Daenys's distraught form and the blood trickling from her nose.

"Daenys, what's the matter?"

Daenys, barely able to catch her breath, spoke in haste, "Something's wrong with Mother! She's hurt! She said she needs the midwives!"

Alicent's eyes widened as she gathered her robe around herself, "Right. Okay, you stay here, I'll get them."

Within the next few moments, the entire castle had awoken and that is how her father found her, hours later, sitting forlornly in the dimly lit corridor with her arms wrapped around her knees. Her hands were clapped over her ears to muffle out the echoes of her mother's shrieks that reverberated throughout the castle.

"What's wrong, ñuha tala, why are you crying?" Laenor Velaryon crouched down to meet her teary eyes, taking out his handkerchief to dab at her nose delicately.

"Kepa!" she wailed, hiccupping through her tears. "I hurt Mother. She's hurt because of me. Because I didn't listen to Edith!"

"You did not hurt her. You could never hurt anyone. It is just the babe. Babies do a little damage sometimes. It is time for your brother to come into this world, that is all."

"But what if I hurt her, Father? What if I made things worse?"

Laenor swept her into his arms and stood, stroking her hair as he walked toward Rhaenyra's chambers.

"Your mother is going to be just fine, my flower. Let's go check on her shall we, maybe that'll make you feel better, if you see her?"

"Is she okay now?"

"Yes, the most difficult part of it is over. She is just resting now."

"Okay."

Laenor pulled back to examine her face closely and then he tapped her on the nose.

"And why are you bleeding Daenys? How did you get hurt?"

Daenys's face scrunched up once again at the reminder of her fall and she threw her arms around her father tighter, "Kepa! I-I fell and I hit my face on Mother's chair. It-it hurt so much but I was brave and I didn't bother Mother with it."

"Oh, you were so brave. My brave little girl. We'll ask the maesters to get you something for the pain okay?"

"Okay," she sniffed morosely.

Daenys's tears slowed and halted once they entered Rhaenyra's chambers and she saw her mother. Rhaenyra lay in bed, looking weary but radiant, cradling the newborn in her arms. Laenor walked over and deposited Daenys next to her.

"Someone here was very worried about you," he grinned.

"Daenys, my darling, would you like to meet your brother?" Rhaenyra beckoned to her daughter.

"No," Daenys crossed her arms over her chest and frowned, turning her face away. "I don't like the baby. He hurt you!"

Laenor snorted and Rhaenyra smacked his arm with a roll of her eyes.

"My love, I know you're upset with the baby right now, but he didn't mean to cause me pain. It's just a part of how babies come into the world."

"It seems you're quite protective of your mother aren't you fireheart? Your anger towards the baby is quite amusing."

"Do not encourage this behaviour, Laenor!"

Daenys's pout slowly transformed into a hint of a smile. She couldn't resist her father's teasing and giggled despite herself.

"I warned him, Father. Just before we went to sleep earlier, I warned the baby not to hurt Mother."

"Oh did you now?"

"Yes!"

"Well, he is very sorry that he didn't listen. But it would make us so very happy if you greeted him properly. Do you think you can do that?" Laenor pressed the furrow between her eyebrows to smooth it out.

"Okay. But he has to promise to be good to Mother."

"Oh, he'll be lovely. Don't you worry about me, my sweet girl?" Rhaenyra leaned forward slightly to reveal the tiny squirming bundle in her arms.

Daenys's breath caught in her throat, at the sight of his tiny face, still flushed from birth, and it tugged at her heartstrings. She noticed the delicate curve of his lips and the tiny fingers that curled instinctively. As she studied him, an unexpected wave of tenderness washed over Daenys. The anger and resentment she had held began to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of protectiveness.

"What's his name?" she breathed out in wonder.

"Daenys," Rhaenyra smiled. "Meet Lucerys Velaryon."

"Lucerys," Daenys ran a hand atop the smattering of dark brunette curls on his head and grinned. "He looks just like Jace."

"Yes he does," Laenor flicked her forehead. "And he looks like you did too."

Daenys extended a gentle finger to touch Lucerys's tiny hand, her touch as delicate as a butterfly's wing. Even though his eyes remained shut tight, his fist clamped around her finger and she giggled.

"His hands are so pretty Mother. He is so pretty. How can he be so pretty?"

"All babies are beautiful my love."

"No, they're not! Some babies are ugly!"

"Oh really, and how many babies have you seen fireheart?"

"Jace."

"Daenys!" her mother chastised sternly as her father tried to stifle his laughter.

"What?" Daenys protested. "I'm not saying he's ugly. He's lovely now, but when he was born he was all squishy and red like an overripe tomato."

"Daenys!"

"Lucerys is not like that though. He's a pretty baby. But it's okay. No matter what they look like, I'll protect them," she hovered her face right above the baby. "You hear me little Luke. I'm your big sister, Daenys. I promise to protect you and love you just like I do with Jace."

"Anything else you'd like to say?" Laenor raised an amused eyebrow.

"Hmmm. I hope you'll make Mother happy, Luke. And if you cause any more trouble, I'll be there to keep you in line."

Laenor and Rhaenyra exchanged a glance of relief and shared a tender smile at her comical words.

Taglist (comment to be added): @a-mexican-waffle  @bellameshipper 

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

Strong Dragons (Part One)

(Gif not mine)

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Masterlist Here

Pairing: Daemon x Fem!Reader x Rhaenyra

Warnings: NSFW! 18+ only! Smut, mature themes and language, P in V, arranged marriages, unprotected rough/raw sex (wrap it before you tap it), virginity loss, incest, daemon growls (enough said), angst, mentions of period blood, infertility struggles, threesomes, etc. (I’m so sorry if I miss anything I’m just writing the warnings down as I remember them)

Word Count: 4,032

Summary: Lady Y/n is chosen by Princess Rhaenyra for some would say a dangerous, maybe even an impossible task... and it requires marrying her uncle.

Request by: @ivy-targaryen​

Author’s Note: I just so happened to be writing a Daemon x Reader x Rhaenyra fic when this request came in so thank you so much for the added inspiration! For context, Fem!Reader will be a Strong for later obvious reasons, Rhaenyra is still married to Laenor, Daemon stays in King’s Landing and never marries Laena, so their daughters are never born (I’m sorry). This is a VERY long one (that is most definitely getting a second and third part cause this originally had over 10,000 words) so strap in and I hope you enjoy it!

(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)

"What troubles you?"

Lady Y/n, daughter of House Strong, looks up from her embroidery to locate the source of her brother's voice. Looking around the gardens, she found him walking towards her, stepping into the gazebo she had hidden in. She tilts his head up at him, "Do I look troubled?"

Ser Harwin Breakbones lets out a snort full of snark, "I hardly see a sour look like that on your face, sweet sister."

Upon mention, Y/n feels the furrow of her brow lighten, straightening her posture when she realized she had been slouching. Blinking rapidly to try and veil her brooding expression, she clears her throat and nods towards the nearest seat for her brother. When he takes up the invitation to join her, only then did she voice her worries, "... If you were given an impossible task, would you do it?"

Harwin's eyebrows furrow, an expression fairly similar to Y/n's. By all accounts, apart from their genders, they were twins, and Y/n is reminded of this as she watched her brother similarly shift in his seat before replying, "Awfully vague question. If you truly want advice from your brother, wouldn't you want to be a bit more specific?"

"If I wanted advice, I'd go to Larys," the quick remark forces out a snort from Harwin. Y/n faintly smiles before urging him on with a stiff nod, "Just answer the question."

Silence lingers as he ponders on said question. Harwin listens to the wind brushing through the vines that have climbed the pillars of the gazebo. He answers boldly, like the strong soldier he was, "Nothing is impossible. Not for me. Not for us. House Strong knows no task that is too impossible to accomplish."

Y/n looked back down at her embroidery to hide her disappointment. She was afraid he would say that, furiously pulling the needle and threading through the fabric. Despite hiding her emotions, Harwin took her silent response as a recoil, worrying him further as he leans closer to her, talking quietly in case the question was for a more personal matter, "Can I ask who gave you this burden?"

The needle paused in Y/n's hand, her eyes still examining her threaded pattern as she mumbled, "The princess."

Harwin's worry eases some, shoulders visibly relaxing under his armor. He smiles warmly with encouragement, "Princess Rhaenyra would not have asked... whatever-it-is from you if she did not believe you could do it. She's also smart. I don't believe anything's impossible for her either," when his sister remained unconvinced, Harwin reaches out to still her hand from stabbing her embroidery with the needle, "She is to be our queen someday, Y/n... Whatever she wants from you, as long as you are not to be harmed, I believe you should do it."

Y/n's shoulders rise and fall as she sighs through her nose, watching Harwin's hand before finally looking up at him, "She wants me to go with her if and when she leaves for Dragonstone."

Not a complete lie, but one nonetheless, and it only added to the weight already heavy on her burdened shoulders. Harwin's eyebrows furrow again, but more so in confusion, "And why is that such an impossible task?"

"... Convincing Father of it is one, and being unwed is another. I doubt Father would let me go if he intends on finding me a husband."

Ser Breakbones scoffs, "Father cannot deny the princess, Y/n. He'll have to agree if she asks you to go with her."

"But the King--"

"Princess Rhaenyra has the King wrapped around her finger. She will get her father to agree to this arrangement, and then our father will really have no choice."

He stands suddenly, remembering that he had the City Watch to attend to and he had only meant to bid his sister a good day. Before he leaves, however, he smiles down and pats Y/n's shoulder, "It's an honor to have the heir to the throne request your service. Politically, the relationship between our houses would strengthen if you choose to accept the princess' proposal. Give it some thought, sister. I know in the end, whatever you choose, I'll believe it to be the right choice."

~~~~~~~~~

Her brother wasn't at all helpful in her struggles, but Y/n had appreciated his words, nevertheless. She knew she wouldn't get his full support if he had known the full truth, but he had answered as she knew he would with what she had given him. That night, as instructed, she slipped into the secret passageways of the Red Keep. Following the drawings that were quickly scrawled onto a piece of parchment, Y/n wandered cautiously down the tunnels, avoiding any source of light she caught sight of. Eventually, she makes it to a small stairwell and climbs up, finding the outline of a door on the top of the stairs. Ignoring the dust and cobwebs, Y/n places her hands on the door and gives it an experimental push. When it didn't budge, she pushed harder, quickly catching herself when the door gave in.

She nearly stumbled into the chambers revealed on the other side. Looking around, her eyes widen in amazement to find herself in Princess Rhaenyra's chambers, the very same Targaryen who was watching Y/n expectedly from her seat next to the hearth on the far side of the room. When Y/n's gaze caught hers, the Strong woman straightened her posture, quickly brushing the dust off her skirt and bowing respectively, parchment paper still clutched in hand.

Rhaenyra smiled, amusement shining in her eyes unless Y/n had mistaken it for the fireplace reflecting off her violet orbs. The princess rose from her chair and slowly crossed the room to the other woman, hands clasped in front of her, "Find your way here well enough?"

"Yes, Princess," Y/n curtly answered. She was nearly startled out of her manners, however, when a large hand reached around her and snatched the parchment from her hands. Dark hair falling over her shoulder as she spun her head, Y/n nearly lost her bravery when Daemon Targaryen stood beside her, seamlessly emerging from the shadows of the room. The prince barely acknowledged her presence, staring down at the small map he had drawn for Y/n as it crinkled in his hands.  

Finally, he looked up once Rhaenyra had joined his side, the two Targaryens both staring at Y/n with their matching eyes, looming over her with a fierceness so similar to a dragon. Daemon allows a small smirk to grace his lips, "Incredible architecture, wouldn't you agree?"

Y/n quickly nodded when she guessed that he was referring to the secret tunnels, now slightly shaking, "Yes, my prince."

"Maegor the Cruel had the secret tunnels and passageways built throughout the Red Keep back when he was King. They say after construction was finished, he threw a grand feast for the hands and minds behind the building process," Daemon took the parchment and held it over a lit candlestick stationed on a pillar beside him, watching the remnants of his maps slowly disappear into flames before freeing his hand off it and fixing his gaze back on Y/n. The young woman tried her best not to cower in fear as he took one step closer to her again, "And after three days, he had them all killed so no one but him would know how to navigate the tunnels and trapdoors."

A hidden threat, veiled by his intention. Y/n forced her hands to stay still by folding them in front of her body, unable to meet the prince's eyes when he stepped far too close to her, close enough to feel his breath on her face as she whispered, "I will not breathe of word of this to anyone."

Daemon tilts his head, smirking as though he was playing with his food, "And what made you think I would suggest such a thing?"

"Daemon," both his and Y/n's eyes remember Rhaenyra and look to face her. The princess appeared patient, encouraging her uncle with a brief nod, "I trust her."

Once her uncle had stepped away and dutifully stood at her side, Rhaenyra turned back to Y/n, thinly smiling, "Have you made a decision?"

"I have, Princess..." Y/n nods again, trying to catch her breath after Daemon has stolen hers. She basked in her personal space, able to think straight without the two dragons lingering ever so close to her. Taking a deep breath and regaining her courage, Y/n lifts her chin and turns to Daemon, "I will marry you. I will wed you and bed you. I will give you the children you and Princess Rhaenyra so desire and pass them off as hers with Ser Laenor."

Rhaenyra's eyes were the only thing to give away her relief and veiled excitement. Daemon, however, remained impassive, unwilling to share whatever emotions he was feeling with the stranger in the room he did not yet trust. He keeps his gaze hard, staring deeply into Y/n's as if trying to fish out a lie, "You understand that while you will be the one to bear them, you will not be the one to raise them. When they are born, you promise to not hold motherhood over them and entrust this to the Princess Rhaenyra."

It was not a question or a request, more so a demand. Despite Daemon's bluntness, Y/n nods obediently, "If that is the princess' wish, yes."

Rhaenyra glides over to the woman, gingerly taking her hands in her own. Y/n couldn't find herself able to stare directly into the princess' gaze and so glanced down at their conjoined hands. Rhaenyra's skin was fair and much paler than hers in comparison. Y/n had a few small scars littered over her hands from various stories of her childhood, while Rhaenyra's was visibly flawless, apart from the feel of her palms. They were rough, as Y/n observed, most likely from the use of dragon-riding.  

Y/n forces herself to look up, only to be rewarded with a grateful nod from Rhaenyra and a kind smile, "Thank you, my lady. You have no idea how much this means to me."

~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Daemon approached the King and asked for Lady Y/n's hand in marriage. Viserys was delighted that his brother had found a new wife so soon after Lady Royce's death and after the scandal with Rhaenyra and immediately confided in Lyonel Strong for his approval. His Hand, of course, agreed to this proposal between his daughter and Prince Daemon and so a ceremony was quickly planned to take place within a fortnight.

Preparations were made and everyone appeared to be excited about the event, bustling about and whispering with joy amongst themselves. Many of the ladies of the court giggled and gossiped with each other, fawning over Prince Daemon and commenting on how Lady Y/n was incredibly lucky.

If Harwin had a suspicion, he never showed it. Instead, he congratulated his sister on her proposal and promised to be her ally against her future husband should she ever need it. On the day the ceremony was set to take place, Y/n found herself surrounded by maids and other ladies of the court as they helped her prepare for her wedding. Just as they had fully dressed her in a white dress filled with embroidered dragons in red thread, the doors of Y/n's chambers opened to reveal the princess and Ser Harwin. The ladies and servants all bow and made a quick escape when Rhaenyra asked them to leave. Once they were alone, Rhaenyra nodded to Harwin and fondly watched as Ser Breakbones crossed the room to gather his sister up in a tight embrace.

"You look beautiful," he compliments, petting down her hair while looking her in the eyes, "The princess wishes to do your hair, but I will be just outside if you need anything."

Y/n nods and briefly smiles in answer. Before she could even say a word, Harwin had left the room and closed the doors behind him. Rhaenyra waits a moment before joining Y/n at her vanity mirror, instructing the bride-to-be to sit down while she took a brush to her dark hair.  The two women were silent for the moment as Rhaenyra ran the brush through Y/n's hair, time and time again until it felt like silk running through her fingers. Then, the princess moved on to braiding certain locks and forming a halo on top of the bride's head, similar to something a Targaryen would wear.

"I understand what we are asking of you is a heavy burden," the princess spoke gently, "And I understand it will be difficult, but I want you to know that I owe you my life for this. You have my gratitude and I will never forget this. You're a true friend to the crown. Daemon may say whatever he likes, but as for me, I still want you to be a part of the children's lives. To them, you will be a distant cousin and an aunt, but to me, you will be every bit of a mother to them as I."

Y/n doesn't nod in an attempt not to ruin Rhaenyra's work on her hair. The curiosity got the best of her as she opened her mouth, "How will we hide any pregnancy? Will we have a maester we can trust?"

"We have a plan," Rhaenyra doesn't elaborate beyond that, "And we will act on it once we are sure you are with child."

"Will Ser Laenor be in the know of it?"

She nods, "He knows."

"And he approves?"

"He does," Rhaenyra finishes the braids, her hands finding rest on Y/n's shoulders. The two women stare into each other's reflection in the mirror, a small shadow taking over the princess' eyes as she spoke, "We did try, you know. Many times, in fact. But nothing came of it. When I turned to Daemon for help... still, nothing happened. As the future queen, it is vital that I have heirs of my own someday. If I am truly barren, well..." she squeezes Y/n's shoulders, "At least this way, the children will still have Targaryen blood running through their veins."

Y/n bites her lip, not voicing what she truly thought to the princess. Daemon never hid his disgust for his first wife, Rhea Royce. Everyone heard him spit terrible things about her, darkly stating his wife to be 'his bronze bitch' among other profanities. With one look at her own reflection, Y/n wanted to flinch away at her Strong features. It didn't take a fool to know that Prince Daemon had a taste for women with silver hair, but not just any woman. Some speculated that Daemon had only ever loved one woman, and could never have her. All the lords and ladies in court looked no further than Rhaenyra herself, knowing that she could ask Daemon to take over the world for her, and her uncle would do so without question. Y/n had once speculated these rumors, and now her arrangement with the uncle and niece only confirmed it.

Finally, Y/n turned away from the mirror to look up at the princess with as much honesty as she could muster, "I cannot guarantee the children will have silver hair."

Rhaenyra faintly smiles, her hand hovering over Y/n's hair as if wanting to run her fingers through it, but wisely decided against it, "We will cross that bridge when we come to it."

~~~~~~~~~

The wedding went by quickly, Y/n could scarcely remember it whenever she looked back. The ceremony played out like a rehearsal, vows full of monotone and kisses exchanged in practice. The celebration afterward was one so grand that Y/n had a moment to forget her sorrows. The feast was large and not only was wine being served but also ale and mead as well. Y/n had her father to thank for providing her favorite drink, her cups mostly filled with a honey mead sent from Dorne. She danced her troubles away with anyone and everyone, but not her new husband. Daemon barely paid a mind to her, instead seating himself beside the King as they joked and laughed as if they were boys again. Y/n wasn't too bothered by this as practically everyone danced with her. Her father and Harwin were the first to do so, her younger brother, Larys, was unable to take part in the dancing. Members of the King's small council danced with her, and their sons. The Sea Snake himself, Lord Vaemond, and Ser Laenor all danced with her. With knowing eyes, Laenor passed the bride off to his wife once a new song began, and Y/n was too stunned to remember her manners as Princess Rhaenyra took her hands and led her into a lovely, slow dance.

"I suppose this makes me your aunt now, Princess," Y/n finds herself speaking her mind more than usual, her mead finally dulling her restless mind.

Rhaenyra huffed out a laugh, linking her arm through Y/n's opposite as they spun around each other in a circle, "It does, my lady. Although from this moment forward, I would like to call you a friend as well."

"Whatever you wish for, Princess."

The bedding ceremony was not as enjoyable as the feast, but suppose that is why Y/n drank many cups of mead before that. She was horrified at the idea of everyone in court watching her, including her brothers and father, but was relieved to learn that Daemon had forbidden the court to watch. Y/n will later hear that Daemon himself spoke to the King about this, stating that he had every intention of consummating his marriage with his second bride, seeing as she was the one he chose, unlike Lady Royce, and that there was no need for his brother to watch and make sure. The lords still brought the bride to bed and the ladies brought the groom, but there was no undressing or an audience during the consummation.

Well, all but one audience.

Later, after the lords and ladies had gone, Rhaenyra slipped into Y/n's chambers, undetected by anyone outside. She sat near the bed, watching with interest as Daemon stripped himself and his new bride down to their night clothes. Her face red with embarrassment, Y/n doesn't comment and instead turns her head away to observe the far wall of her room, nearly jumping out of her skin when Daemon pulled her nightgown up, exposing her naked form to the cool air.

Y/n's eyes screw shut and her entire body stiffens when she felt the tip of Daemon's erection run over her folds, barely giving enough time to prep her before he completely sheaths himself inside of her. It's tight and it burns, causing Y/n to throw her hand over her mouth to stifle the cry of pain forced out of her. Daemon lets out a small growl and doesn't give her time to adjust, moving back out of her only to slide back in. His hips meet hers once she's able to take him fully without much resistance, and yet all Y/n can do was either shut her eyes or watch the wall, wanting to hide her body and shame into the very mattress Daemon began to fuck her into.

"Relax, Lady Y/n," Rhaenyra softly soothed the woman, her voice closer than what Y/n remembered. Turning her head, Y/n found her now sitting on the edge of the bed, hovering over the newlyweds' writhing forms. Rhaenyra's eyes appeared curious, intrigued by whatever she finds when Y/n's gaze meets her. The princess leans forward and finds Y/n's hand, sliding her own fingers in between Lady Strong's, "If you relax your body, it will hurt less."

Y/n tries to listen and obey, taking a few shaking breaths to calm herself, despite Daemon's hips snapping harshly into hers, forcing her breasts to bounce. The slight friction of Y/n's skewed nightgown brushing over her nipples sends a chill down her spine, and for a moment she forgets the pain, shivering as her hand tightly holds Rhaenyra's, briefly forgetting her embarrassment. Daemon grunts at the feel of her walls tightening around him, ever so slightly, slick sounds now filling the air instead of raw, dry claps. For the most part, he had been focused more on thrusting instead of acknowledging his wife, keeping his eyes lowered as he watches his cock disappear into her wet cunt with each snap of his hips. He refused to watch Y/n as he beds her, more focused on his goal than on pleasure.

However, after a long stretch of time, the prince found it harder and harder to peak, desperate for release as he starts thrusting harder and faster. Y/n bites the inside of her cheek so as not to scream, forcing her eyes closed again to stop the unshed tears from falling. Daemon's grunts were less pleasurable and were more out of frustration, still avoiding his wife's face and body out of a stubborn will.

Rhaenyra can see the exhaustion on her uncle's face and so she takes matters into her own hands. Still hanging onto Y/n, the princess uses her free hand to cup Daemon's face, forcing him to look up at her. Daemon's eyes meet hers and she could see the lust for her pooling in his hard gaze. She could see his desire but also his frustration. Rhaenyra leans in and kisses Daemon, moaning straight into his mouth.

He had spilled inside of Y/n soon after that, the Lady Strong relieved for it to finally be over.

~~~~~~~~~

However, she quickly realized that it would be far from over. She had promised to bring forth a child for Rhaenyra and Daemon Laenor, and until she did so, she would have to let Daemon back into her bed. It's not as though Rhaenyra wanted Laenor to share Y/n's bed, although Y/n was sure that she was far from Laenor's fancy anyway, but Daemon was now her lawful husband, and a child from him would be perfect for Rhaenyra. Besides, Y/n was positive that Rhaenyra would prefer to have a child from Daemon over her own husband.

For several nights after her wedding, Y/n would be accompanied by her husband and her newly appointed niece. And for several nights, after Daemon was finished, both he and Rhaenyra would leave her chambers, alone and sore in her bed. The nights weren't so bad after a fashion, and perhaps that was because Rhaenyra made it bearable for Y/n. Every morning after, Y/n was visited by the princess, and a tray of food and drink would come with her. Y/n was surprised but also inwardly delighted by Rhaenyra's kindness. Both of the women broke their fasts together so much that it became a tradition every single day. It even came to a point where even if Daemon didn't bed Y/n, Rhaenyra would still visit with her aunt the morning after.

A month had gone by and Rhaenyra sat in her normal seat at Y/n's table, sipping on her morning tea while staring out the balcony. The peaceful silence that usually followed this routine visit was oddly charged and heavy. The princess sensed this, glancing over to Y/n only to find the other woman staring down at her lap as if in shame.

"What is it?" She found herself asking, although her stomach turned with the suspicion that she already knew.

Y/n looked up, sighing in exhaustion, "My flower came this morning."

Disappointed, Rhaenyra only blinks, nodding while setting her cup down, "I can't say I'm surprised. It was foolish to get my hopes up that everything would happen right away."

Y/n nods as well, although the lines on her forehead didn't go away. Rhaenyra wanted to reach out with her thumb and soothe it over but had to pinch herself in order to refrain from doing so. She watched Y/n's face continue to fall into despair, the Strong woman gulping down the soreness in her throat when she felt her eyes begin to water, "Am I doing something wrong, Princess?"

The weakness in her voice nearly shattered Rhaenyra's heart, for once unable to reply with all the things she was supposed to say. Instead, a fire raged within her belly, and with it revealed the dragon within her. Y/n didn't notice, but Rhaenyra felt a cloud in her mind as she reached over to take Y/n's hand.

"No, it's not you, Lady Y/n. It's not you."

She had an idea of who was really to blame for her aunt's distress.

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: So, uh... I'm DEFINITELY making a Part 2, whether ya'll like it or not. Hope you enjoyed!

Go to the Masterlist to see what chapters are posted!

[lunarmoonanons]

Fire and Salt

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YN was considered by many to be the true mix of both her parents. She held her mother Rhaenyra’s beauty and violet eyes, her nose and lips straight from her father Laenor’s nose and silver-white hair. When she was a child, her hair was wild and curly and her appetite for flying and the sea unquenchable. Under the sun her light tan skin gained more color. Yes she was considered to be the true mix of both, and many whispered that she was the only true child between them. 

The girl was not stupid, she understood that people questioned why she out of her brothers looked more like the combination of their parents. YN had hoped that since she looked like her mother just as much as her brother’s did people would not question it as much. But it seemed even in her family, her brother's legitimacy would be questioned. 

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Masterlist 

YN had rushed over to the room where her mother was holding her new baby sibling. YN was excited to meet them, hoping for a baby sister, but her quick stride was interrupted by Ser Harwin corralling her brothers toward her mother’s room. 

“Good day, Ser Harwin.” YN skipped over toward them. “Has it happened already?”

“Good day little princess. Indeed, your mother has given birth to a boy. My condolences, as I hear you were hoping for a sister.” Ser Harwin teased the 8 year old who gave an exaggerated pout in return. She was shoved slightly by her younger brother Jace. 

As soon as they reached their mother’s chambers, the three children burst in to see their little brother in their mother’s arms. YN pushed back her brothers to place a kiss on her mother’s cheek. 

“Hello mama. Are you okay?” YN asked, giving her mother’s hand a squeeze. 

“I am fine now, my darling girl. Would you like to see your brother?” Rhaenyra asked. YN nodded and took a look at her new brother, his little scrunched up red face was peaceful in sleep. 

“I suppose he is rather well looking, even if he is a boy.” YN sighed and placed another kiss on her mother’s cheek before going to her father.

 Laenor kissed the top of her white curly hair. YN paid no mind to the rest of the conversation, smiling at Ser Harwin as he held her little brother. When her father sent her brothers back to the dragon pit, YN took a turn to the walls that overlooked the waters. YN loved the water, the idea of flying or sailing excited her. As the wind began to sweep her hair, YN dreamed of the day she would claim a dragon as YN had none at the moment. 

She was particularly close to Seasmoke, the dragon was fond of her as well. But he was bonded to her father, so she had no claim to him. YN had long ago decided that if she was not to claim a dragon she would have a ship to her name. Having told her grandfather so when she was 6 years old, the lord of the driftmark laughed and promised her a ship if she did not have a dragon when she was a woman. 

With a happy sigh, YN pulled away from the seawall and made her way to the dragon pit. Not paying mind to the ones who greeted her. But her stride was stopped by the sight of her uncle Aemond. He looked dirty and tired. 

“Aemond. What happened? Were you-”

“Get off me. Your brothers did this, for all I know you are a part of their prank.” Aemond hissed and pushed her away.

“What prank?” 

“They gave me a pig. Said it was my dragon, as if that was what I deserved.” Aemond muttered, blinking away angry tears. “Your brothers think I am unworthy of a dragon, that I am a pathetic excuse of a Targaryen.”

“I don’t think you are.” YN tried to comfort him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I am also without a dragon. Do you think I am pathetic? Cause I don’t. We don’t have to be defined by whether we have a dragon. I am sure you’ll claim one. You have the courage for it.”

Aemond gave her a small smile as the two hugged each other close. When they separated, YN made her way once again to the dragon pit. She gave the workers acknowledgement in valyrian, before finding her way to Seasmoke. The large beast lifted its head in a eager way as the princess reached him, bringing her hand up to pat his neck. 

“Rytsas seasmoke. Issi ao behaving aōla ilagon kesīr?” (Hello Seasmoke. Are you behaving yourself down here?) YN asked. The girl planned to spend her afternoon speaking to the beast. Unaware that in the Red Keep, there were plans being made that would change her life forever.