#myrielle asks

[dragonsbone]

🥀 + josana and myrielle? devastate me pls.

if she were to die, her older brother, marcellus would stay at her grave the longest. he would’ve tried everything in his power to protect his little sister, but all his efforts would end up in vain. he would carry the weight of her death for the rest of his life. 

fun fact: myrielle DOES in fact die. though, the events leading up to her death would not have many mourning over her for a huge reason. the only ones who did were her mother, meredyth, and her and aemond’s son when he grew older.

send me one of my ocs + 🥀 and i’ll tell you who would stay at their grave the longest

[novembermorgon]

I was going through your Myrielle posts and on a picture of Myrielle and Gerold you tagged "and also wanting to have weird mildly sexual encounters with each other but thats a different conversation" and I now need to know more about these two 😭 can you expand on their relationship?

well YES!!! i would love to :-) especially because like maelor i have pondered and thought about them more recently .

myrielle and gerold are WEIRD about each other . well more specifically gerold is weird about myrielle . i think given that tybolt is the firstborn son and the two of them are 1. second son 2. daughter, they were never really prioritized by their father in the same way that tybolt was - not in the sense that he didn't love them, but they definitely found comfort more in each other than they did with others . and then myrielle goes off to king's landing, and gerold has to kind of make up a version of her in his mind to make up for the fact that she isn't there anymore .

which, when they get older, i imagine sort of manifests as ...? gerold has made up a perfect fantasy version of her in his mind. he's spent so long thinking about her, and their relationship, and their bond - so he makes an ideal version of herself, and uses that as a way to kind of stay in that childhood mindset that they shared with each other . he sees her as one of his only friends and then they get older and he grows almost a sense of posessive jealousy over her and thinks of her as an ideal woman and then he gets weird . i think he latches on, and sticks to her, and gets increasingly touchy and steps forward every time she has an argument with aerion, and kind of remains that one familiar presence that will love her unconditionally . its always sort of sexually charged because that's the way he approaches it, even if nothing actually 'happens' while she's in king's landing and still married

when myrielle then suffers all her losses in aerion dying, her children dying, daeron dying - i imagine she moves back to casterly rock, and with gerold's wife (rohanne) also being gone, they probably form a sort of weird romantic sexual bond, finding that comfort in each other again when they're reunited back home. gerold gets touchy with her, she has nobody else to turn to, and it spirals until it becomes a weird, incestuous loop of misery . she gives in because he's the only person left that loves her. wants to feel loved and wanted when everyone is gone and he indulges in that feeling. i think if he got to choose he wouldve married her and had her locked up in her room and kept away from everyone but him . ❤️ but he'll make do with what he gets (a bit of slowburn incest) ...

[horizon-verizon]

Jaehaera’s ending is absolutely perfect because she’s basically murdered by Otto. Unwin Peake and Otto undoubtedly share parallels, both are from the Reach, both served as Hand of the King, both were ambitious enough to get closer to the throne which didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Unwin represents Otto’s narrative punishment.

Otto brought his daughter to court and after she married King Viserys I, he was “anxious to see their blood set over Aemma’s” (former queen consort). Unwin Peake, Hand of the King to Aegon III, tried to marry his daughter to him for the same reason: to replace former queen consort Jaehaera with his daughter, Myrielle.

The irony here is that Unwin is a former Green supporter but when the war was over, he saw the opportunity to replace Otto’s blood on the throne with his own, murdering Otto’s great-granddaughter and the last surviving child of Aegon II. With Jaehaera gone, their line died at the hand of another power hungry Green.

Yep, all correct. Too bad some people can't deal.

[novembermorgonen]

I had this ask in me for a long time. Myrielle has amazing curly, Aerion has amazing waves/curls. Why does genes hate Maegor and Aenys so much it denied them the curls T_T

it's because i used to draw aerion's hair much straighter!!!! they took after dad ... but since i changed my aerion design a bit to give him more curly hair maybe they need a new look too ...

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

in fire and blood book, it was written that aegon III had thrust one of jahaera’s dolls at myrielle peake whom had craddled the doll as if a baby on maidens ball

how did you perceive that as?

and its interesting detail that it says aegon thrusts one of the dolls at myrielle

So did aegon keep the other dolls?

Ohh such a good question! I don't think the doll has to do with Aegon III's feelings about Jaehaera at all, at least not directly. My take on the doll is that Aegon III is sending a "fuck you" to Unwin Peake through this "gift" to his daughter. (more below, sorry this got long)

the context of Aegon's regency is important here. Although his ascent to the throne is often seen as a triumphant moment for the black faction, for Aegon III on a personal level it is anything but. He's a traumatized kid suffering from depression, forced into a marriage he's too young to take any interest in, with a girl who is equally traumatized (and I don't think Aegon III bore Jaehaera any particular animosity. This is the kid who forgave Tyland Lannister and held his hand as he died, and whose best friend was Gaemon Palehair. His grudges are personal, not generational). Moreover, the regency strips him of all personal agency. At first, there are a few people, like Corlys Velaryon and Tyland Lannister, who more or less are trying to get the realm back on track and set Aegon III up for a successful reign. And at this point, Aegon is still quite young, grieving, and doesn't take much of an interest in ruling. Then the Winter Fever hits, much of the old guard dies, including Tyland Lannister, and Aegon III, now entering adolescence, decides to step up. Hurray!

Aegon seems to find some motivation and sense of purpose during this period, and he impresses people! He tends to the ill, shows compassion, he's there for Tyland's last moments, and then with his Hand gone, he decides to take action. He makes appointments to replace kingsguard and council members who died during the plague, people he thinks he can count on to be on his side, like Alyn Velaryon and Thaddeus Rowan and Robin Massey. He also called his sisters to court. People start saying he's mature beyond his years, and he's showing promise as a king! However, he is still only twelve and under a regency, and therefor the regents have all the power. Unwin Peake and Munkun, the only remaining healthy members of the council at that point, undid all of Aegon's appointments, and Peake named himself both Hand and Protector of the Realm. And at this point things get very bad for Aegon.

Even though Aegon is the king, Peake is calling the shots, and Aegon now knows that his Hand is actively working against him. He tries to protest, to at least keep the kingsguards he'd appointed (they serve for life, right?) but Munkun says he'd not made the appointments the proper way. Aegon withdraws into himself again and goes into what looks like a pretty deep depressive episode. He shows no interest in anything, barely leaves the keep, and the only person who makes him even a little bit happy is Gaemon Palehair. And during this period, the Hand is a real ass to Aegon. He forces him to go watch public executions, the master of arms, appointed by Peake, bullies Aegon and makes Gaemon a whipping boy, and he appoints Marston Waters, who was there when Aegon II killed Rhaenyra, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Aegon is very unhappy with all of this, but what can he do? He's powerless, and if he is openly defiant, the one friend he has gets hurt. Then, to top it off, his wife, Jaehaera, "the little queen," dies by "suicide" although no one really believes it was suicide at all. And suspiciously soon after her death, Unwin Peake decides Aegon is going to marry his daughter. And this is where he overreaches, because it's one thing to name yourself Hand, another thing to possibly murder the queen (no evidence, but word on the street is that it was an inside job) and decide unilaterally that the king is going to marry your child. No one is happy with this, and even though Peake has been going around saying Aegon is betrothed to Myrielle, he is forced by the council to give Aegon his choice of brides.

So the "cattle show" happens when Aegon III is at a low point in his regency, but with this new marriage, he has an unexpected opportunity to stick it to Peake. And this is, finally, where the doll comes in! Aegon at this point is clearly not a fan of Unwin Peake, and yet Unwin Peake is dead set on making his daughter queen. He has Myrielle come and hang out with Aegon practically every day and pays Mushroom talk mad shit about the other girls who might be in consideration. And Unwin Peake is getting pretty cocky about this, saying well Aegon seems to like Myrielle better than he liked Jaehaera (so basically he tolerates her presence-- again, does he have a choice?). Then Aegon III gives her this doll. Mind you, Myrielle is fourteen years old. She's older than Aegon himself and too old for dolls, and this doll is the hand me down doll of a dead girl that her father may or may not have murdered, so this is a weird gift on several counts. And while I don't know whether Unwin Peake gets the message or not, I think Aegon meant it as a fuck you to Unwin Peake. To me, this is Aegon saying "I know what you did, and I know what you're doing. Go ahead and try it." The doll is not just a random doll, it's known that it was Jaehaera's doll. Aegon III may be depressed, but he's not stupid. He knows that he's all but powerless, but in this one thing he's been handed a small bit of agency-- the power to choose his own bride-- and there was no way he was going to choose Myrielle Peake, the daughter of a man he despises.

While the book sort of depicts Daenaera Velaryon is a surprise candidate, an "ace in the hole" from Baela and Rhaena, Aegon knows who his family members are, and he would have known about Daenaera being Baela's ward. Was he banking on his sisters coming through with a suitable bride for him? I think it's pretty likely Aegon knew his sisters would have a candidate for him, and he trusted them to have his back. During the Maiden's Day Ball Aegon again comments to Myrielle about the doll, telling her he's glad she liked it. And isn't it interesting, he doesn't say anything about Myrielle herself, he just mentions the doll? Myrielle brought it to the Ball, cradling it like a baby. When he sees Daenaera, however, he smiles and tells her she looks very pretty. Aegon doesn't get many opportunities to show defiance, and he has to be incredibly subtle when he does because of how little control he has under the regency, but I think that's what the doll was, a small act of defiance right before he makes the one decision he's allowed to make for himself. And Peake throws an absolute fit about this choice too, threatening to resign over it, claiming it was unacceptable Aegon-- only thirteen years old mind you-- would not be able to have children with Daenaera and Baela would remain Aegon's heir (and this is important! and why Daenaera is a strategic choice at this point. If Aegon fathers a child before his regency is over, what are the chances he makes it out of his regency alive?). This time though, the rest of the council calls his bluff. No one is interested in handing him lifelong power through Myrielle, they like Daenaera, Aegon is happy with her, and so Peake resigns. Middle finger successfully raised by Aegon, Myrielle can keep the doll.

[daenerysoftarth]

The irony of the Green faction ending with Jaehaera’s murder by Unwin Peake, a former Aegon II’s supporter, is simply the natural conclusion to a recurring motif. Their pursuit literally ate itself from the inside out because a heritage of betrayal will always come back to haunt you. In the end, their cause, marked since the start by usurpation and betrayal of the rightful heir, is punished in the narrative. And it’s even more ironic, Jaehaera died because Unwin Peake tried to do for his daughter the same thing Otto did for Alicent. It started with the Hand of the King making moves to pimp his daughter to the widowed king, and so like that it ends. Truly poetic.

This right here!!

[badassindistress]

I've been writing Regency Romance again~✨

[umarthiels]

singlehandedly warping time and space to make it possible for gabriel john "inclined to help rather than to reprove" utterson to process the events of the book with the help of charles-françois-bienvenu "sought not to efface sorrow by forgetfulness, but to magnify and dignify it by hope" myriel

[standardlovers]

u have correct opinions on les mis and saw have u spoken abt les mis recently ? no, but i support unconditionally anyway

i made one (1) post abt enjolras the other day, im not allowed to talk abt them anymore bc i dont ever ever stop but if given 2 seconds of space to be allowed to i constantly have so much to say thank u so much

[ohwarnette]

🪲

send me an emoji and I’ll give you a book rec

[ashblooddragons]

The Red Queen (Chapter 7/?)

112 ac

Alicents pov

I sit next to Myrielle in the royal box waiting for the tourney to start and for Rhaenyra to show. I have no idea how she gets away with all she does, if I did even half the things she’s done today I would be forced to be a Septa by my Father, only love and lust for the gods.

I sigh and look over at you and your friends smiling as you excitedly show them your new necklace, you had shown me it soon after so excited and only wanting to show me your new gift.

“Ali! Look! Look! Kepus gave this to me, don’t you think it’s pretty? Oh, I love it so much!” You say and I can’t help but notice you have seemingly had your hair fixed into a proper style. I’ve been needing to fix that, wonder who did. I think to myself. 

“Ah, let me see.” I say kneeling down so I can face you properly as I lift the garnet pendant watching as the rich red of the stone catches the light making it even more beautiful. “Lovely, a beautiful gift for a beautiful girl.” I say smiling when you beam with joy at the compliment.

“Mam– Ali do you have any jewelry that your family gave you that was a ancestirs?” You ask curiously as you play with the sapphire necklace around my neck. Your correction isn’t lost on me but I let you think I missed you almost calling me Mama.

It is moments like this one, where I know I am not alone in the feeling that I am your Mother. I may not have birthed you, nor carried you in my womb but you are my little girl.

“Ancestors,” I correct gently before I touch the necklace on my neck. “And yes, this used to be my Mother’s before she passed. I have many other necklaces, rings, bracelets, and earrings, that used to be hers.”

I know the moment you catch that my Mother is dead, I hae never told you nor have you most likely ever heard this fact so the tears that come to your eyes are not surprising. 

“Your Mama is dead? Is there any way to bring her back, so you can have her again?” You ask seemingly trying to find any way to take my pain away from her passing which seems to bring your young mind to necromancy. 

I can’t help but giggle at your young and innocent idea. “No, and besides she is in a better place, she is happy with the Stranger now, walking through fields of lilies and havig the sun kiss her skin at all times of day.”  I saw with a mournful smile. 

“Is the Stranger kind?” You ask wiping away your tears with the back of your dress sleeve. 

“Very kind.” I say before teaching you more about the seven and what each one is for and why they are important.

I’m snapped out of my thoughts when I hear the King start his speech before the tourney starts. “Be welcome! I know many of you have traveled long leagues to be at these games. But I promise, you will not be disappointed–”

The King pauses when Rhaenyra tries to sneak in and take her seat. I suppress a scoff when she sits down smirking thinking she got away with something again, and to be fair she probably did with how the King bends to her will.

“When I look at the fine knights in these lists, I see a group without equal in our histories. And this great day has been made more auspicious by the news that I am happy to share, the Queen Aemma has begun her labors!” 

With that announcement the crowd erupts into applause and cheers, small folk and noble alike rejoicing at the future heir to be born. I turn to look at you and see you nervously biting ad chewing on you lower lip it is already getting bloody and chapped. I at times worry if my nervous habit with m fingers has led you to do the same only with your lips. I reach over to hold your hand comforting you the only way I can. you may not say it or show it, nor understand it, but I can tell you worry for the Queen and your future sibling.

“May the luck of the Seven shine on all combatants!” The King says finally finishing his speech witha sigh and sitting on his mock throne. 

I turn to look at you after you tugged on the sleeve of my dress. “Yes, darling?” 

“Where’s Kepus? He said he was going to be in the games, but I haven’t seen him yet.” You are confused as you search for your dear uncle, or should I say Kepus. 

“He will be out soon, but first we have to watch Ser Cole and Ser Aldwin Sarwyck joust.” I say gently smiling when you nod, you don’t seem to like this information but you also seem to understand.

You’ve never cared much for tourneys, finding them too long and too boring. And I can’t blame you, as soon as it gets entertaining it is determined you must not see such violence at your young age. So when Ser Cole unmounts Ser Aldwin you don't clap nor cheer as loud as the rest, only clapping as you know you must.

“Princess Rhaenys Targaryen! I would humbly ask for the favor of ‘The Queen Who Never Was’.” Lord Boremund Baratheon declares holding his jousting stick up to the balcony.

You can hear the chatter of the courtiers gossiping. Do they ever stop? Probably not. I think to myself scowling when I see one of them point to you and your friends giggling over lemon cakes and tea.

“Good fortune to you, cousin.” Princess Rhaenys says obviously not happy with he cousins behavior but putting on a good face.

The less things for this court of vipers to gossip about you, the better. Or that is at least what my father loves to tell me when I even think of running through teh halls. 

“I would gladly take it if I thought I needed it.” He says pompously like any true Baratheon would. 

I hear a pained gasp beside me and turn to see Myrielle looking up at her brother and the lady Cerelle Celtigar seeming to be holding hands and talking. I had heard they are now bethrothed and getting ready to marry in three moons. Such a quick wedding has raised eyebrows as to why they are wedding so quickly, I have yet to hear one that makes sense. 

“Are you alright, Myrielle?” I ask worried as to what has he nearly in tears. 

“Yes, yes, sorry I must have gotten something in my eyes.” She says clearly lying but I pretend to believe her for her sake. That is until I hear Rhaenyra scoff.

“Is that what is’s called when you almost lay with your brother? You know it’s wrong right, to want to fuck your brother or family? That is at least what the rumors say.” She says crudely. 

I turn back and see tears rolling down Myrielles cheeks, whether that be because of shame or rage I can not tell. I can’t believe Rhaenyra’s hypocrisy, she has always found the conquers marriage as beautiful, and yet she sits there berating a girl over a rumor? It must be this that pushes me to speak up, to try and take Rhaenyra down a peg. 

“As if you Targaryens have any room to talk. Were the conquers not brother and sisters, or had I read the history books wrong?” I ask with a smirk knowing I’ve backed her into a corner.

I can see Rhaenyra is ready to lash back when the King clears his throat and when we turn to look at him, he’s glaring at Rhaneyra making her slump back into her chair with a scowl upon her face.

I turn back to Myrielle who is smiling thankfully. “I do not know if this is true, but as far as I’m concerned it is only a rumor about the new lady of court.” I say squeezing her hand reasuringly, before turning back to watch as the Rouge Prince comes riding into the jousting ring. 

I can’t help but smile when you perk up at the sight of him, for if he can bring that smile of pure joy to your little face can he truly be that bad? 

I was so distracted by your excited chatter that you had finally been allowed to make a favor for a knight that I missed the way Myrielle and my eldest brother, Lorent, were staring at each other. If I had I would have noticed the blush on Myrielles face and the look of lust in my brother’s eyes.

“Who do you think he’ll pick?” You ask as you watch Prince Daemon moving his horse up and down the line of knights to choose from. When I see my brother Gwayne I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach put push it down and smile down at you,

“I have no idea, though they musat be a extraordinary knight to be choices for the Prin–.” I say only to stop when I see he picked the one person I hoped and silently prayed he wouldn’t, Gwyane.

“Who’s the one with the tower helmet?” You ask curiously as you lean into me on the seate we are sitting on.

You do this often, looking for my touch and comfort, besides the Prince I am the person you seek out the most.

“My brother.” I say fighting the urge to bite and pick at my cuticles. It is not for my sake but for yours for I will not let you gain such a harming habit because of me, because of my anixites. So I will push them down for your sake. 

“He must be a very good knight for Kepus to pick him.” You say in wonder. 

Or the son of the Prince’s greatest enemy. I think coldly.

I hold my breath as I watch the joust, my brother seems to have almost knocked the Prince off his horse. But on the next joust, the Prince leans his jousting stick downward so it trips the horse making the horse and my brother flip through the air landing with a resounding crash that makes everyone gasp. But I do not get much time to recoup until the Prince is in front of the balcony smirking up at us, or should I say, my father.

“Nicely done uncle.” Rhaenyra says with a smirk batting her eyes ar him. I have to fight the urge to slap her as she seems to forger my brother was just carried out of the tourney ring. 

“Thank you, Rhaenyra, now I am fairly certain I can win these games but what isn’t a little extra luck from the most beautiful maiden here?” He says smiling when you walk up with your friends smiling and waving at him.

“It would be my honor Uncle.” Rhaenyra says breathlessly getting ready to grab her favor when the Prince stops her.

“Not you, I meant the Realms Darling over here.” He says pointing his jousting stick towards you.

The look of pure joy crossing your face mixed with Rhaenyra’s look of betrayal and embarrassment almost made my brothers injury worth it, almost.

You run over to grab your favor only to run back and almost tripping and falling from your excitement, it’s a good thing I caught you or else you may have fallen off the balcony. 

“I made it myself!” You say excitedly as you reach over just barely able to reach before letting your wreath slide down.

“It is a lovely favor, it is sure to make me win.” He says making you giggle as he rides off.

“He’ll win with my favor right?” You ask as you hold my hand as we walk back to our seat.

“If he does not then he must have terrible luck because you are the luckiest girl in the world.” I say tickling your sides making you giggle uncontrollably. 

As the match goes on we don’t notice how slowly but surely the crowd seems to becomes mournful. It is only after your uncle lost his bout and whispered something to Ser Cole that we finally hear the news.

“Ali, please say it’s not true.” You plead tears rolling down your little face. 

When I can’t find a response you burst into tears and sob into my chest as I hold you close praying I could take all your pain and put it onto myself. But there is no gods, or magic that would let me so I sit there holding you and carrying you to your chambers as you cry your little heart out as any little girl should after losing their mother.

This is the necklace I see that Alicent was wearing, the one made of Sapphires from her mom.

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

Also Nymeria and Myrielle are my besties @sugutoad ocs so give her the love for these magical and beautiful characters!!

Taglist: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @mmogurl @classicsimpforaaronwarner @baybaybear1 @sachaa-ff

[dragonsbone]

hmm tell me something that mushroom would say/write about your main hotd ocs

i completely forgot about this ask so i apologize for the long ass wait, but here ya go !!

— described the same way as he’s depicted before the loss of his first wife. the perfect example of house targaryen. a prince with a ferocious dragon, but who is also an even-tempered man. he is loved by all for his integrity, his selflessness, and his sense of justice. however, they came up with plenty of falsities for rhaegor disappearance as no one had seen or heard from him in eight years. mushroom believes he flew beyond the wall and spent his time with the wildlings. others claimed he resided on the outskirts of dorne to be near the southern sea. though, no one will ever know the truth of his whereabouts except korinna. upon his return to king’s landing, mushroom writes of rhaegor accordingly on his drunken foolishness and rude behavior. yet, when rhaegor the news unexpectedly came out of the ruined prince falling madly in love with princess rhaenyra’s favored servant with a bastard’s name, that’s when the inaccuracies start to occur. mushroom writes on how the high lords claimed rhaegor as been bewitched by a common-born whore and is no longer fit as the royal hand of the king. there would be no mention that korinna was the only person to make rhaegor feel whole again, to gently guide him away from his trauma so he could love again, marry again, and bore children. once the targaryen prince married his lover, all sense of honor and nobility were erased from history.

— if you think rhaegor was bad, my poor baby has it way worse. again, described similarly in the beginning, though not much thought or information was put into hers. mushroom wrote of her unknown lineage, the many years she spent as the former queen consort’s servant and specifically passed down onto princess rhaenyra per one of aemma’s final requests. not much is known of her since she’s really seen as just a bystander for many years. until the green wedding where her illicit affair with prince rhaegor is accidentally revealed by the noble lords and ladies of westeros. and that’s when it all goes downhill. she is depicted as a whore, a power hungry seductress who used the targaryens ( aemma, rhaenyra, and rhaegor ) to raise her status. she is relentlessly viewed as someone she is not, and history will not ever mention who she truly was, sadly. they wouldn’t write about her unwavering loyalty to rhaenyra, her fierceness and gentle heart, or what a wonderful mother she was. she was a woman who came from nothing and gained everything one could ever desire in westeros. and yet, she will never be remembered as such. 

[novembermorgon]

Random question but do you have any OCs you could see selling scam infomercial products in a modern au?

LMFAO not necessarily scam infomercial stuff specifically but i think myrielle would be so bored just sitting at home all day letting other people do all her housewife duties that for a while she gets really into, like, mlm pyramid schemes and she does really well because she promotes it on her mom instagram and puts a bunch of unsuspecting people in debt. then she gets tired of it and drops it

maelor sells weed to 16 year olds on the high school parking lot despite not being allowed in the general vicinity of the building and 80% of it is just oregano . he gives discounts to anyone who looks like saera

[horizon-verizon]

saying you don't like daenaera because she "appeared out of nowhere" is funny because if these people looked further they would find out that daenaera would exist anyway, a velaryon wife would always exist, that was always Martin's line and honestly, I love how she was introduced in the book

Sounds like another excuse in the line of excuses they have. (Post #1 and Post#2).

A)

Daenaera was quite literally meant to be the saving grace for Aegon and his family bc Unwin Peake engineered the Maien Day's Ball specifically so he could use his daughter's hoped-for marriage to Aegon to control him and the crown. (And her sunny disposition served to raise Aegon's spirits, of course.) There is specific diction (syntax and vocabulary) to convey this was a surprise, last minute countermove and that their very entrance was a break in the monotony of the Ball/the direction towards Myrielle where the exahustion and crampedness/discomfot of the event would manipulate Aegon to get it over with and just choose "Myrielle". Baela and Rhaena also "appear out of nowhere" precisely because Unwin didn't expect them there or any interruption to his plans nor did anyone expect Baela (who had run away to avoid marrying an old dodger the regents chose for her and seemingly out of the council's wy) nor Rhaena (who was supposed to be away in the Vale):

("War and Peace and Cattle Shows")

So yeah, when Daenaera enters, it's was meant and explicitly written for her to appear to put a wrench in the direction/path Aegon/the crown and the Ball was on. Duh.

Some people simply don't understand & relied too much on those Blu Ray episodes when A Clash of Kings AND AWoIaF both showed that Daenaera was Aegon's kids' mothers.

B)

Anon is talking about this a clash of Kings, which came out in 1998--

Davos would have given much to know what he was thinking, but one such as Velaryon would never confide in him. The Lord of the Tides was of the blood of ancient Valyria, and his House had thrice provided brides for Targaryen princes.

* this doesn't count* - [I'm just adding this for the record] Vaelaena Velaryon (mother of the Conquerors -- wife of Lord Aerion Targaryen)

Alyssa Velaryon (mother of Rhaena the BB, Alysanne, and Jaehaerys I, plus others who died young -- wife of Aenys I; even mother to Jocelyn Baratheon, the mother of Princess Rhaenys, rider of Meleys and mother of Laena and Laenor Velaryon, grandmother to Baela/Rhaena Targaryen)

Laena Velaryon (mother of Ladies Baela and Rhaena of Pentos - Daemon Targaryen)

Daenaera Velaryon (mother of Daena, Elaena, Rhaena the Septa, Daeron I, Baelor I -- 2nd wife of Aegon III; thus Daenaera is the grandmother of Daemon Blackfyre)

And all these women are also in A World of Ice and Fire as what I described...If Jaehaera were the one to be Aegon's kids' mother and survives, why would Daenaera be in all these books if she never marries Aegon and becomes mother to his kids? It's quite literally her narrative purpose!

By contrast, the Blu Ray animation episode of the Dance where you hear that Aegon and Jaehaera's marriage ended the Dance published in 2016.

[bishopmyrielfundraiser]

even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise--

--as Victor Hugo didn't actually say.

The Winter 2025 Bishop Myriel Fundraiser is now open. This year will be dedicated to immigrants, many of whom are languishing in private prisons whose stock just went way, way up.

Our goal this year is at least 25 auction items and over $1000 in funds raised. If you've never participated before, this is your year. DM if you would like to participate but need advice!

Get your fic, art, books, crafts, costumes, and other offers ready. You can submit them according to the rules under the cut, and bidding on each item will start as soon as it is posted. Bidding in REPLIES, NOT REBLOGS, will continue through the end of December 21st, the darkest night of the year.

The recommended places to donate this year are: 1) RAICES Texas, an immigration-focused group which freed more than 2,000 people from immigration detention over the years. They fought to reunify families when children were ripped from their parents' arms during the first Trump administration, and have now pivoted to using funds to provide legal support for the detained, while continuing to pay bonds for those clients.

2) Annunciation House, a shelter serving immigrants. Run by Catholics in Texas who open their doors to the stranger without asking to see their papers, this year they faced down a vicious attempt by the Texas government to shut them down as a "stash house." The attorney general claimed in court that they followed "a more Bohemian set of ‘seven commandments,’ including commandments to ‘visit’ people when ‘incarcerated’ and ‘care (for them) when they’re sick.'” What could be more in the spirit of this fundraiser's namesake, Bishop Myriel? If you are not in the US and/or find it difficult to donate via those pages and/or want to support a particular organization doing good work to assist immigrants that's not listed above, please feel free to select another organization. From groups funding rescue ships in the Mediterranean to those supporting refugees stuck in camps around the world, there is a lot of good work to be done.

Rules for submitting your offers and bidding on them under the cut

Rules

1. Offering

SUBMIT your offering post to this blog! Include a link to this rules post in your own post, and also a minimum starting offer for your item, which can be a fic, art, or a physical item--be creative! Your offer does NOT have to be connected to the Les Misérables fandom, although such items are always welcome! Any terms and conditions of your offer should also be included in the post, eg what fandoms you are wiling to write for, any hard no’s on content, etc. Offer posts can keep coming in through the SUBMIT button until the auction closes.

2. Bidding

Bidding on each item opens as it is posted. Only bid on items tagged #Winter25. There will also be a masterpost to help distinguish this year's items from last years. Bid in REPLIES NOT REBLOGS (this is important because replies enable me to figure out who bid when and avoid conflicts) until 11:59PM Eastern Time December 21st, 2024. The highest bidder at that time will be the winner. Bidding can start as each item is posted.

3. Claiming or delivering your item

Please do not donate your bid until I have contacted you to inform you that you won the item!

If you have won an item, I will contact you directly via DM and ask you to provide a receipt or other verification for a donation to an immigration organization in the amount bid. This DM may come from either @bishopmyrielfundraiser or my main blog @lifeisyetfair. After you have made your donation, send such the receipt or verification bishopmyrielfundraiser@gmail.com or in a screenshot on Tumblr. Make sure the proof contains the amount you donated!

AFTER I have verified your donation, I will contact the offerer to let them know they can deliver the item. If you do not respond at all to my attempts to contact you within one week, I will move on to the next highest bidder. So check your DMs.

4. Sending the item you offered

All items should be delivered by March 31st, 2025 at the absolute latest, unless you have made other arrangements, eg the custom item/fic takes longer than that to create or write and you communicate about this. Earlier is even better, but remember that the most important thing is to keep the winner informed and make sure everyone has a good time.

[lullaebies]

Request: Aegon really trying to get along or at least be in good terms with Jaehaera but she's still grieving for Jaehaerys and her mother too much (and the years don't seem to ease the pain) that she can't fully accept him yet

a/n: ok so this ended up a bit longer that i expected! i was trying hard to think how to go about this. hopefully this will read well <3 tomorrow i will continue with the rest of the reqs sent!

He sits quietly by his wife during the feast, their lips both red with the dark of wine.

It is a celebratory night, The Feast of The Father Above demanding grandness, lest the septons decide it a fair night to accuse the Crown of not being pious enough. It mattered little to Aegon, but it mattered to his subjects; meaning he had little ways to object.

The septons say this holy day to commemorate the Father is a day of just rulings, a day of auspicious decisions. Perhaps if he had been more pious he would’ve trusted his judgement auspicious enough to shut their mouth with some coin and tell them to celebrate down their streets instead of his halls, but alas. 

He looks at Jaehaera. As of two days prior, she is six and ten. The spring of youth, if one is to go by how the singers describe maidens of similar ages. Girls that age absorb the sun and hold its beam in their smiles, warming the room around them in cheer and dance. 

You wouldn’t be able to tell so, with his wife. She looks a painted doll, with an even line to her red lips that refuses to bend. Jaehaera doesn’t celebrate her nameday; when it comes, she usually refuses to leave her rooms for days after. Her ladies-in-waiting had once tried to prepare her a surprise, and in return, she had raged.

The court never quite understood her. He still remembers Myrielle Peake weeping at Jaehaera banishing her from her rooms. Her father never quieted about it since, he thinks grumpily. But when he was told of this great injustice the Queen has inflicted on her well-meaning ladies, he had to hold himself from laughing at the complainers in their face.

As if she would like to celebrate the day she remembered her own twin is lost to the afterlife, while she is lost here. 

He dismissed the complaints with some platitudes. He had felt similar enough when his regents assumed him to be ever thankful for them sitting him on the Throne, as if the death of his mother and older brothers hadn’t been the sole reason a crown is on his head. Let us celebrate your coronation and our hard work, your Grace, the dimwits had said. It is a joyful occasion. 

They wouldn’t know how to make him joyful if they tried, and his wife even more so. 

Yet still, there is a pang in him, seeing her so muted. There are rare days, where they align in their routes, and her words are reminiscent of his. Where they walk down the same route silently and it feels more natural than the forced conversations he is met with from anybody else. She always scurries away after, avoids him after, but...

She is his wife, and as much as they were sewn together, they are of similar enough cloth. Smiling like the sun is not something he’d expect of her, but he doesn’t wish she’d never at least feel its rays. 

He may have drank too much today. Her wintry form had been much on his mind. He supposes he finds ways to be melancholic no matter what, but he looks at her and sees himself, from a long while back; from before Viserys came back, before he could hold onto his sisters again to cry.

The dance floor had been filled with duos dancing to string instruments gracefully. It is not something he does often, but had seen her dancing before. As a child, granted, before it all, but she had seemed happy to do so before. And who would ask her to dance again, but her husband?

“Jaehaera,” he mumbles her name before he can regret it. She turns to him, heavy brows lifting in wonder. “Should we dance too?”

It should help, in more ways than one. Seeing them being amiable would calm the many lords here, he thinks. Or spring some hope to their souls, or more importantly, some respect for Jaehaera’s being. Wouldn’t that help, having the world know she is no jilted girl? It would do her good. It would do them good. 

He never wanted a divide between them to haunt them. They have enough things haunting them. Is this a good decision? He knows not, but The Father may as well sanction it auspicious, after all the hard work put into this damn feast.

Jaehaera’s tentative fingers fiddle with her wine cup. She puts it down softly. “If his Grace should like that,” she answers, building her wall from him again as her eyes shy away from direct eye contact. The rings on her fingers drag across the marble table, clinging to the cold of stone as they approach him. 

Aegon notes her offering. He doesn’t quite like that it's simply complacency, but then again, he had been simply complacent when everyone else goaded him to do anything, even if he did find enjoyment in it in the end. And if she doesn’t find enjoyment in it, at least she would have a spring in her step for the singers to sing about, and mayhaps that will soothe her.

He reaches for her offered hand, picking it up gently from the fingers. The table, her rings, they’re cold, but her bony fingers are warm. It is almost surprising, with how distant she seems at the moment. They rise from their chairs to the surprise of the people around their table. Viserys looks at him crookedly, but he pays it no mind - Jaehaera seems to go along with him well.

His thumbs fiddle with her knuckles nervously as he attempts a squeeze of reassurance. He truly doesn’t dance often; Baela sometimes forces him and he looks a fool, Rhaena sometimes does so too and becomes his harsh, smiling critic. He shouldn’t be able to reassure his wife in regards to dancing, he has little talent in his lanky limbs, but he has to try, he thinks.

A spot is cleared for them in the center of the floor. She thanks the lord and ladies who move in a mannerly way while he simply nods. The musicians switch a song, and he vaguely remembers the form for it, reaching for Jaehaera’s waist. After confirming from those nearby he remembered correctly, of course. 

As for Jaehaera, the form they should be in dawns on her quickly, and her fingers curl over the peak of his shoulder easily. She looks at their feet when the song begins. He does too, to see his are well placed. He wants to brighten this night some, but he doesn’t want to look like an oaf doing so.

Despite that, however, he can’t imagine he doesn’t look like one. He is unsurprisingly rusty, and the length of his limbs lend to a taut gait and especially dance. Jaehaera is surprisingly fluid in her movements, on the other hand. He nearly steps on her foot once, but she evades it simply. “Sorry,” he whispers. 

When he hears a soft snort coming for her, he almost thinks it had been for the better.

She is not without faults — she does step on his foot. He huffs at her in some vindication he is not the only one with two left feet. She finally lifts her eyes to him, supposedly to apologize too, but then the dance calls for her twirl. She holds his elevated hand throughout it. He does notice a hint of a crinkle to her eyes, and he even meets it with his own one.

When he stops her, hand finding her waist again to hold her in a secure manner, he thinks he shook off that rustiness. But then Jaehaera’s eyes land on him in a strange gaze, and her limbs suddenly feel tense.

Jaehaera swallows, and looks down again, her grip on his shoulder digging into his bone. “I think…” she stops them from moving. “I feel ill,” she says abruptly. “I think I should retire for this night, Your Grace.”

He blinks at her. He is not convinced; her face only gained some warmth to it as they danced. Still, he draws her away from the dance floor to its side, knowing here too, there is little to object to. She feels all too rigid in his hold, and something had her gaze become cloudy.

Most of the room seemed to cheer at them joining the dance floor, so that couldn’t be it. The taste on his tongue is sour, feeling somewhat jilted himself. Perhaps because he himself hadn’t hated the dance all that much. He offered this for her and still… Fine.

“Then go rest,” he allows, trying to keep the bitterness behind lock and key. She says her farewell to some key courtiers and leaves, quickly disappearing to the dark, gloomy parts of the castle. 

For a while, he returns to his spot at the table. When they strike a conversation, they ask of the Queen; some of them deem her rude for her abrupt departure. He finds their voices offensive, for he would rather like to retire to his apartments himself at the moment.

“‘Tis a holy day, for us all. Ill or not, even a Queen must be respectful—” Lord Peake grumbles by his ear, and he wonders why he hadn’t let him go ages ago.

Irritated, he decides that it wasn’t quite fair for her to leave him this way. Especially with everyone around looking at him like this in pitiful wonder. And with these halfwits, surrounding him around the table and offering their daughters as dance partners instead.

“Pay my respects to The Father and preside over the rest of the feast, Lord Peake,” he says, and comes up again from his place. “I should see how the Queen fares.”

He gets up and walks in long strides out to the dark, gloomy hallways himself.

—

As he approaches Jaehaera’s apartments, he finds himself hesitating to actually come in. 

His wife hasn’t asked for any kindness, even if he had attempted to offer it. He does think the wine had made him rather rash if not overtly sentimental; he wouldn’t have asked her to dance in the first place without it, and he certainly wouldn't have come by her door.

The Father Above might be laughing at him from the dark skies. Auspicious decisions, my arse. 

And he is about to turn on his heel, when he hears a sob from the inside of her room. 

He reaches for the knob of the door and twists it open. 

Jaehaera is by the window, too close to the damn window, the dying light of the fireplace showing bloodshot eyes and tears trailing down her rounded cheeks. She is frantic in her movements until she stops in place when she sees him, holding a quivering lip from saying a thing. 

“Why are you…?” he tries to ask, but some anxiety spikes in him and he can’t find a way to articulate himself. 

“Your Grace, please leave,” she manages out of her system. That lights a visceral feeling of rage within him. 

“You will not order me to leave,” he says plainly. Your Grace, your Grace, she tells him the entire day, but she won’t force that distance upon him when he plainly sees there is something foul at play. “I don’t know what I have done, but I did not mean harm to you and you know this.”

“I know,” she answers, the glisten on her lash line more noticeable. She’s shaking like a leaf; what has rattled her so? “But you more than all know that matters little.”

Fuck. He had been irritated, but now he is properly upset. All had been well, what has he done wrong? 

“If you tell me what it is I can fix it,” he says. It is the wrong choice; she turns to look at him with a sharper gaze, even with her tears. 

“I used to dance to that song with Jaehaerys,” she says, and Aegon already understands he has lost here. Of course, the times he remembered her dance as a child, it had been with her brother. “Mother taught us the steps. It was her favourite. Jaehaerys was determined to learn it well, even though I always had to escape his clumsy steps. He wanted to show mother he listened to her.” 

She wipes her cheeks with her hands, holding herself. 

“We never had the chance to complete the dance without missteps.”

Aegon shuts his eyes. “If I had known I wouldn’t have…” he begins. What is the point in saying what she knows already? “I’m sorry. I thought it would make you happy.”

He foolishly assumed he would know any better than anyone else in the Keep how to do so. They are adjacent to one another in pain when the court already assumes it knows everything about them. And he thinks, there had always been some truce between them, in regards to that — perhaps that had all been in his head, too.

That dance felt like a moment of peace to him. He wanted it to be a moment of peace for her, too, for them all. He is so tired of fighting and guarding his own self; he simply wants to relent to the calm that he feels could exist between them.

Jaehaera’s hand reaches for the seven-starred necklace upon her, swallowing. “It had, for a moment,” she sniffles, shame in her voice. “It made me happy. But my brother can’t be, and my mother can’t see it, and I…”

That he does know, the guilt of being alive. The guilt of continuing on despite having the world shattered, despite witnessing so much death. And Viserys returned from the dead, and when he confessed it all, his brother had told him simply one thing.

“You’re not at fault for that.”

And if Jaehaera has resentment on her tongue, any hatred she wants to spit out about those who were at fault — she doesn’t say it. Simply looks at him with guarded eyes, keeping her distance. 

He can’t ask her to close it, just for the sake of his own peace. He wouldn’t ask her to, either. The ghosts that plague her on her namedays, day to day, they are there, he knows what they whisper — plenty had whispered to him day to day.

“You need not to dance, but you need not hide what plagues you, and what would make you at ease,” he says. “Her Grace the Queen has her voice in court, and if she’d like it, the King’s ear.”

Jaehaera looks at the floor, as she does, and let all the tears that had been unshed out. She needn’t close the distance, but she does need to know she can, if she’d like. He lets her sob until she tires herself out, helping her to the bed and tucks her in. 

Even if winter plagues them, forever piercing cold, as long as her skin is warm on this earth, she should have her own dream of spring. 

If one day she should choose it, he’d be willing to help her find it.