#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"

[ashblooddragons]

Tides Of Love (Chapter 1/?)

Series Masterlist

Kingslanding

105 ac

Laenas Pov

Today is the day I finally get to mount my beautiful Brightfyre. I can't help but look at the hourglass each second hoping and praying the sand would fall faster. I know I am missing important information from Maester Tytos, but I find I don't care that is until he slams his ruler on my desk catching my attention.

I look up at the old Maester who somehow still has the golden hair of his Lannister kin. I have no idea why Papa agreed to take him and not the Caswell. Probably because the Lannisters gifted us two ships after we agreed to take this buffoon. 

“Is the lesson not to your liking my Lady?” He asks with a raised brow.

I can’t help the smirk that rises to my face, for does he truly think he is scary? How can he be when he is skinnier than Joffery and shorter than any grown man I’ve ever seen? I suppose the only things scary about him are that disastrous mustache and greasy hair of his.

“No Maester, it’s not that. I’m only excited for my first flight.” I say as if that were obvious. 

He only hums, turning back around to that blasted tapestry of all the houses. “House Frey, where do they reside?” He asks not even checking to see if I’m paying attention again.

“The Riverlands, they are the easiest way for the North to make the journey down South.” I respond bored out of my mind. 

I could be in the sky right now, feeling the wind in my hair and the heat of a dragon under me, but instead, I have to be here learning. The thought alone brings a frown to my face.

“Very good.” He responds moving his ruler to another house when I notice the hourglass is empty.

“Thank you for the lesson, Maester Tytos, but I have to get ready for my first flight!” I say as I stuff all my notes in the satchel Papa gave me before rushing out of the room. I rush to my chambers to change into the new riding leathers I know Papa must have had made. 

I ignore the Maester demanding I come back as I rush down the halls. I can’t wait to fly on my own dragon, I no longer need to fly with Mama or stay on the ground watching. 

But most of all I get to prove I’m more than the Sea snakes and Princess Rhaenys daughter. That I am more than my parents, that I can do or be anything.

When I make it to my chambers I burst in looking around until my eyes land on what I was looking for. 

I make my way towards my bed picking up the light blue and brown riding leathers. Next to them is a pair of brown lace up boots. I can't fight the smile that rises to my lips. 

Papa made them perfect. I think as I reach behind me trying to find the ties of my lavender dress. 

Once I have it all on I notice a note on my bed.

I hope these riding leathers are to your liking. I brought the finest tailor money can buy for these. Treat them well.

I flip it front to back over and over trying to find any indication of who sent it but find none. 

Papa must have, for who else would? I think before tying my boots and leaving my chambers to find my Mother for my first flight.

“Well, aren't those lovely.” Mother says with her gentle smile. 

The one that too most would seem like nothing but a slight lift of her lip. But I know she is smiling, I know she is proud.

“I found them in my room, Papa outdid himself.” I say not noticing how she frowns in confusion before shaking it off.

“Well, your Father should be down there then. Though I was thinking we could wai--" She says in a teasing tone before I cut her off.

“No! I have waited a whole year for this. I am flying Brightfyre even if it means I need to sneak out tonight!” 

She only chuckles as she stands. “I was only teasing.” 

“You shouldn't joke about such important things.” I say taking her hand in mine as I practically drag her out of our apartments.

The whole way down to the wheelhouse Mama laughs. It's so joyful many Lords and Ladies stop in their tracks for they never heard ‘The Queen Who Never Was’ Laugh so openly. 

I watch each house that passes on the way down to the Dragonpit. I can't sit still no matter how many times Mama reminds me to.

“Now you won't be up long, and you won't be doing any tricks. But you will fly on your own dragon.” Mama says when the Wheelhouse finally stops and she sees I'm ready to bolt out of it.

“I know, but I get to fly.” I say as I smile ear to ear. 

Mama smiles before letting me run out and towards the Dragonkeepers. 

I can barely hear the Dragonkeeper who speaks to me as I watch Brightfyre walk out. But what confuses me is that Caraxes is right behind her. 

“Mama, why is Caraxes coming out?” 

But it isn't Mama who responds, no far from it.

“What, don't want me to join your first flight?” 

I spin around so fast I almost fall over when I hear the Prince Daemon speak behind me. 

I feel a blush of embarrassment rise to my cheeks when I see his amused smirk. I look down and whisper incoherent words even I can't hear properly. 

“I'll take that as I'm welcome.” He says patting my head as he walks past me towards his dragon.

I cover my cheeks as I know I've become a tomato. 

“Did you know he was coming?” I demand when I hear Mama chuckle to herself.

She only smirks before responding with a teasing tone. “I don't know what you speak of, Sweetling.” 

I stare at her shocked as she moves over to her red beast. 

She knew, I know she did. I think fighting the urge to hide my face again.

I should have never told her of my crush, I should have known her and Papa would tease me forever!

I take a deep breath before turning to find Brightfyre looking at me already. I still can't believe I claimed this gorgeous beast. 

Her scales are a vibrant pink with some golden flecks and membrane. Eyes of vibrant green stare into my very soul in all the best ways as I walk towards her.

I breathe in the scent of sulfur and chard meat, most would turn away from it but I find it beautiful, powerful. 

“Time to climb on.” Mama says from behind me. 

I know she will want to help me up as it is my first time riding alone. So instead of fighting it I let her lift me to the ropes along my dragon's ribs and stand under me as I climb onto the saddle. 

“Do you remember the words?” She asks voice full of anxiety.

Instead of responding with yes, I scream the words she was asking about.

“Sövegon Brightfyre!” 

I ignore Mama's cries of worry as Brightfyre leaps into the air. 

And gods, I knew flying would be magical but this is godly. The feel of Brightfyre's wings beating against the wind, the warmth under me, the fresh wind in my hair. How is anything to compare to this? But it is not this that make me feel free at last. No, it is the way my very soul sings with each beat of Brightfyre's wings. The way I feel whole with each ray of warmth meets my calves. The way I can finally breathe with the wind against me with its strong breeze. 

I now know what it feels like to feel the other half of my soul completely. And no one, no man, woman, or god will take it from me. 

I turn when I hear another set of wings beating only to find my furious Mother. But I can't seem to find that I care, she can give me any punishment and I will take it with a smile on my face. 

“You almost scared me to death!” Mother yells in that tone that means I most definitely will be in trouble when my feet touch the ground again. 

Instead of responding I turn forward watching as the world turns miniscule. I know Brightfyre isn't isn't war dragon, nor a ferocious one. But looking down at the people walking through the streets, the people who used to seen so tall that now seem like tiny ants. It is no wonder dragons conquered these lands. 

And with that thought I let out the most joyful scream, letting all the happiness and joy that fills me out for the world to see and hear.

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @themoonlitquill @athzhowakar @thelastemzy

[ladystarksneedle]

Hotd characters as Greek gods

Rhaenys as Athena

Corlys as Poseidon

Laenor as Apollo

Daemon as Ares

Criston as Hephaestus

[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.

[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 

[hs-is-loml]

Love Looks Good On You. (a.t)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Velaryon!OC

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

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

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

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

masterlist - series masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Queen Aemma?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That does not mean-”

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

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

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

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

“Ah, yes.”

“What of it?”

“Will you tell me the story, today?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Grandfather…” Viserra began skeptical of his insinuation. 

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

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

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

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Snowball Fight on the Hill - Laenor Velaryon x Reader

Summary: Laenor and you end up in a bit of a not so platonic tussle.

Pairing: Modern!Laenor Velaryon x M!Reader

Warnings: profanity, fluff

Word Count: 592 words

A/N: hoe hoe hoe! a very merry late Christmas and Happy New Year in advance from me to you :) though the Laenor simps gang is probably a minority of the fandom, I still wanted to do something special for any male or male identifying readers of the HOTD fanfic reading community for xmas. I hope you enjoy!

lovely dividers credited to @firefly-graphics !

Heavy snowfall was descending all over Driftmark, as you and your best friend, Laenor Velaryon, made your way back to his home, straggling through the snow. 

“I don’t understand why your family lives on a fucking hill,” you huffed, pulling your winter parka tighter around you. “Seems excessive. And troublesome.” 

“Well, we have a car,” Laenor pointed out, looking less of a drowned rat than you, his posture straight as ever. “It’s too bad my dad doesn’t trust me to drive with snow tires in this weather. Too many chances of black ice, he says.” 

You sneezed, rubbing your reddened nose. “I don’t know if I’d rather take black ice over climbing up this fucking hill.” 

Laenor brushed some snow out of his dreadlocks, an idea coming to him. “Well, at least the hill is good for one thing,” he said slyly, hoping you wouldn’t notice. 

“And what the fuck is that? Catching a cold?” you sneezed again, turning to look at your best friend, only to find him nowhere in sight. “Laenor?” 

A hard, small flying projectile hit you on the back of your parka, and you shrieked from the cold. “Snowball fight!” Laenor cackled, standing behind you with his hand loaded with a handful of snow. 

“Oh fuck no!” you exclaimed, scooping up your own snowball. “You’re going to regret that, Velaryon!” Laenor continued his maniacal cackling, as the snowball fight soon evolved into more of a snowball tag. You were pelting Laenor relentlessly with snowballs, and he soon regretted making an enemy out of you, as you were faster and much stronger than him. 

You were sure that you could win this thing, easily. But then, a huge snowball smacked into your face, making you sputter as some of it went up your nose. Ow. you were pretty sure that it broke your nose from the impact. 

Laenor let out a holler of triumph, but it soon turned into one of terror as he saw you brushing off the snow, and charging straight for him like a bull seeing red. Shrieking, Laenor barely had time to defend himself or attack you as he ran for dear life. Unfortunately for him, a well-timed snowball made him slow his pace, and you took the opportunity, tackling him down onto the snowy ground. 

“Hey1” Laenor protested and laughed as the both of you began play-fighting on the ground, rolling in the snow as he struggled to regain control of the situation. “That’s what you get for starting a fight with someone, Velaryon,” you teased, soon managing to come out on top, literally and figuratively, as you pinned Laenor to the ground. 

“Gotcha,” you smiled, looking very smug. “Begging for mercy isn’t going to get you out of this.” When Laenor remained silent, you took a closer look at his face, blinking the snow from your lashes. He was looking at you with a certain sort of admiration, like you were the sun after a long, arduous trek in the dark up the mountains. Like you were pure gold. Your heart began to thump in your chest, as you reached down, hands shaking, to brush the snow out of Laenor’s face. 

“Hey,” Laenor breathed out, staring up at you. “You’re really handsome, you know.” You smirked, trying to hide your blush as you stared down at your not so best friend. “Yeah, you too.” 

“Mind going on a Christmas date with me tomorrow? I’ll buy you a gingerbread latte.” Laenor asked coyly, his dark eyes shining mischievously. 

“You had me at gingerbread latte.”

let me know if you wish to be added to a general taglist for laenor related works, or just my works in general in the comments or through this form! :) 

thank you for reading! if you liked it, likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! merry late xmas guys 😘🎄

[silver-dragonborn]

I have this idea of someone working in PR being isekai'd in the House of the Dragon universe and using their past skills to help Rhaenyra ascend the Iron Throne because The Greens have dragged her name through the mud. They work to help Rhaenyra build rapport with the public and create a positive image of Rhaenyra through various activities such as community outreach, event planning, etc.

They even encourage her to not flee to Dragonstone and instead remain in King's Landing to fight for her rights and show Westeros that the Iron Throne is hers. Perhaps they also find a way to ensure that Jace, Luce, and Joff are born with Laenor's looks through the power of artificial insemination (in a world where dragons, ice zombies, and giants exist, I refuse to believe that humans haven't found other ways to get pregnant in Westeros). Just imagine the protagonist helping Laenor and Rhaenyra get the respect they deserve and show the court they aren't to be messed with. With good PR and an upgrade in fashion, Laenor and Rhaenyra would be the Platonic IT Couple of Westeros.

[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.

[sweetestpopcorn]

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

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

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

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

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

Hi there,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're not blind.

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