#rhaenyra being the youngest dragonrider in their history

[halfyearsqueen]

no because let’s discuss this matrilineal lineage

[sweetestpopcorn]

hi sweetestpopcorn! i hope this ask finds you in good health and a happy september! (also i hope my ask isn’t too much of inconvience over all your work!)

i have a question relating to the dance of dragons and the blacks & the greens: while it is already established that the reason for the greens rising up and the civil war is because of rhaenyra’s gender (because there are drafts where rhaenyra does not have any bastard children to weaken her claim and still half of westeros rose up), do you think there were any nobles in westeros that were rising up against rhaenyra specifically for the reason that rhaenyra had bastards? and if so, would that mean that by your AU they would more likely be switched to black from green because of rhaenyra’s marriage to daemon? do you think that there were any nobles that were won to rhaenyra’s side because of their love for daemon?

personally i think that there may be a few families that would switch from green to black with your au but i’d love your opinion! thank you 🩷🩷🩷

Hi there!

Love your icon image <3

Hum... I get your question and there's much merit to it. I do think that the question and doubt around the "Velaryon" princes should make a lot of people not support Rhaenyra. After all, throughout the asoiaf books - all of them - we are continuously shown and told how much people despised bastards. Even in Fire and Blood and regarding the "Velaryon" princes this is highlighted for instance here:

This passage actually also highlights the issue the illegitimacy of her sons would pose for Rhaenyra herself, as she would be accused of High Treason and bear minimum would be liable for being disinherited completely but the consequences could go as far as death.

Nonetheless, as I and others have previously highlighted, even in the Green Council the illegitimacy of her sons is mentioned - by Alicent and Ser Incel Cole - but given very little attention. As for the lords of Westeros to the best of our knowledge, this was not a relevant factor.

I think it might be easily explained by a combination of factors. Most lords in Westeros had never seen the "Velaryon" princes and/or their purported father Ser Laenor + they knew that Rhaenyra had Arryn blood and that Rhaenys - Ser Laenor's mother - had Baratheon blood. Further, and most relevant of all, all three of them were dragonriders, which was taken as evidence - by the author of the book himself - that they were in fact legitimate. Of course that the logical thing is that they didn't need a father with Targaryen blood since Rhaenyra was a dragonrider and the youngest one of her house, but I think that's another evidence in the books of how much the role of women was overlooked, translation: If a child does X then it comes from their father 🤡

This all being said, I still think that this issue which was in fact Rhaenyra's biggest handicap should have played a much bigger role overall besides being used to portrait her as a wh0re and ruin her reputation, since it went well, well beyond that. However, it really wasn't.

Now we can play the "just because it's not said doesn't mean it didn't happen" game, but once again, we could also play that game with anything, including Aegon's 🥎🥎 We could say he could have anywhere from one to three and actually it would be impossible to disprove this statement. That is however, a game I don't enjoy playing because it's opening the door to just about everything, and then to the maesters, evil, evil, maesters changing history and lying.

So in sum, no, in my AU not having illegitimate children doesn't really change Rhaenyra's support all that much though her supporters are very, very pleased about who her heir is and the fact that his father was a Targaryen, which has highlighted by Lord Beesbury's arguments in Fire&Blood did matter - i.e., amount of Targaryen blood. It does change and a lot how people reading feel about her claim though, and over the years I had many people that consider themselves Neutral tell me that in the context of my fanfiction they are Team Black no questions asked.

In fact, strange as it is, I think this was an addition of George's not as much to the story but for his readers, to make them feel more ambiguous about the Dance.

Is this a big limitation in the way the Dance is written? Yes it is, and it does highlight how George is significantly stronger when he plays the gardener - main asoiaf books - instead of architect - Fire and Blood.

Cheers!

[nyaerysfics]

Skoros Lo…? Chapter One.

The life of a Targaryen was one of comfort.

That was a fact Daemon had known since he was a small boy, still attached to his father’s hip. No man or woman in the Seven Kingdoms went against the King’s son— or grandson for that matter. And since his father had become heir to the Iron Throne and the King’s Hand, and Daemon a Prince of the Realm?

The world had truly been his oyster then. Lords and ladies bent to his will, threw themselves at his feet and begged for his favor, though he hardly gave it, he knew the art of exclusivity.

Admittedly, Daemon cared little for duty, or his ugly wife in the Vale for that matter. He knew he would never be King, even after his brother ascended the throne.

Being the Prince of Dragonstone was always a fleeting inheritance for him, though he didn’t mind. Long days listening to the problems of lords he didn’t give a fuck about, long council meetings when he’d rather be cock deep in some silver-haired whore? No thank you, he’d rather be in Lys.

So was he surprised when his brother replaced him with a little girl? No.

He could tell everyone thought he would turn into some kinslaying beast and slay his brother and niece, take the throne and become Maegor reincarnated, but for what? They thought he would spill his House’s blood with so few of them left?

So he bent the knee and called his niece the Princess of Dragonstone. He actually didn’t mind being cast aside— he had no interest in being King, and now Viserys would stop bitching about him showing up to his small council meetings. Being King sounded like a life sentence but the Queen’s beloved uncle? He would bend the knee to Rhaenyra a thousand times more.

So Daemon went and made his own path, far from his elder brother's influence and judgment. He ate and drank what he pleased, fucked whomever he wanted, slept where he wished and traveled as much as he liked though he did miss his little flame, Rhaenyra, more and more as she grew older and he missed more and more milestones.

Gods have mercy, she was so amazing Daemon couldn’t help but send gift after gift, treasure after treasure. She deserved it, as her uncle saw it. Youngest dragonrider in our House history , he mused when he heard.

A fitting feat for his darling niece, who burned so fast and bright, the two could not help but have a deep connection, for they were the last true dragons alive. They were both smart, mercurial and overly sarcastic, something Viserys tried to shame out of the two every chance he got, but couldn’t.

Charming, aggressive, funny— rude. Uncle and niece were created of the same things it seemed. So it wasn’t surprising the Prince acquired chests full of coin and plenty of enemies and even more friends.

Influential ones, too, such as the Prince of Pentos, who paid his friendship back tenfold, even supplying him Rhaenyra’s favorite gift. The entire ride home atop Caraxes he was shaking with the anticipation of seeing her face as she opened her gift, the once Empress of Leng’s owed prized jade tiara.

She’d been so happy, just four and ten and still capable of such innocent, childlike joy it made Daemon want to keep her locked in a tower, away from lesser beings.

After damn near tackling him, and throwing her legs around his waist, in a very unladylike fashion mind you, she’d told the whole of the room she loved her kepa more than anyone in the known world, before pressing kiss after kiss to his face. It was fucking hilarious to see Viserys’ screwed up face as he watched her joy overflow, but that wasn’t why Daemon did what he did.

Daemon bathed Rhaenyra in gifts because she was the only person in his life that made him feel anything anymore— whores and wine lose their potency the more you utilize them, he had come to realize. Nothing compared to the bright eyes of his niece is upon him and when he returned from across the Narrow Sea.

He used to have his brother, but since their father had passed, Viserys had become a different man. He didn’t trust Daemon, as if he would ever do anything that would harm his kin, his beloved kin. Viserys and Rhaenys— and their children by default, meant more to him than anything and Daemon would have rather fallen on Dark Sister than harm either of them but not one of them fucking appreciated it. Both of them had turned their backs on him. Why? He didn’t know.

His father had raised him to be loyal to House Targaryen, and that is what he was, lest his Father smite him from the Fourteen Heavens.

All Daemon ever wanted was his family in power, on top. While he didn’t want the burden of the crown but he did want to alleviate the ails that came with it. He wanted to be his brother's sword and shield, but all Viserys saw him as now was a headache no matter what he did.

Viserys had long fallen into favor with the Hightower brothers, and so, thought his own was the second coming of Maegor or whatever bullshit Otto shoved down his throat.

Rhaenys never forgave him for not supporting her claim at the Council of 101 AC, hated him even, for raising a small army against her and Laenor.

Even Aemma thought him an insolent, childish mess even though he was a year older than her.

But his niece? She made him feel human, like he was capable of being loved despite what everyone else around him said, despite how they treated him. Rhaenyra saw the best in Daemon, and defended him against anyone— even her King and father. While she was the Crown Princess of Westeros Daemon would be treated like the Prince he was. She made sure of that, and he appreciated her.

Daemon was a Prince of the blood, grandson of King Jaehaerys I and Queen Alyssane, son of Prince Baelon and Princess Alyssa, brother to King Viserys I. Being a subjugator was in his very blood and these Andal fucks thought they could disrespect him in her presence? These men were fucking idiots.

He was the rider of Caraxes and he was afforded a certain level of respect based on the fact that not a man who spoke against her uncle would do so to his face. No, they tuck their tails and fall in line in his presence and yap like pups when his back is turned.

Rhaenyra thought it an offense to the very blood that flowed through her own veins. Were she and Daemon not made of the same flesh and blood? Was she not a reiteration of the worst things a Targaryen could be?

If she wasn’t, as her father claimed her to be, then she wanted to be. She wanted to be like Daemon. Her aloof, lost, dear uncle. She loved him, adored him, favored him and he felt the same way. No matter what he brought, even if it was just himself, Rhaenyra paid back his gifts in reverence. Their blood called to each other— in some sick, beautiful twist on familial love that made her parents so fucking anxious.

Rhaenyra absolutely worshiped her uncle, thought the sun rose each morn because he bid it to and when he left it was as though her world stopped spinning on its axis.

Even Syrax would be irritable at Daemon and Caraxes’ departure, which just made Rhaenyra feel worse, if that was even possible.

The Princess would barely eat or ride Syrax for the first sennight, the Fourteen said to forgo what you love the most if you wish for your prayers to be heard, and what did the girl love more than food or her dragon? Just her uncle.

Viserys absolutely hated their relationship, because Rhaenyra was overindulgent, something Daemon and their father Baelon before he passed, had instilled in her from birth. It didn’t matter what the girl asked for, Daemon would get it for her— be it a new bow, fancy cut jewels, silks, books, pets.

It didn’t matter. If it existed and Daemon was alive, his sweet girl would have her heart's desires.

He had once gone as far as procuring a rare, beautiful lemur his niece had once seen in a science book. Little Valyrians, they were nicknamed for their silver fur and wide, purple eyes.

She hadn’t even asked for one, just simply commented on their beauty and went on with her day, never giving the lemur another thought. She had been so shocked when he revealed what had taken him from her for an entire moon, and even she admitted it was worth the wait, for she had never seen a more beautiful animal.

Well, besides Syrax, that is.

The King had raged and bitched after, berated Daemon for his bullshit gifts he used to win the heart of the girl who was supposed to love and worship her father not her uncouth uncle.

To make it worse for the King the girl was fully aware her uncle would do anything to make her happy and took advantage of it. She wasn’t subtle, either, but who could blame the girl for liking gifts?

She was the heir to the Iron Throne, and she did not get the moniker ‘The Realm’s Delight’ without receiving a few treasures.

Plus— any girl in the Seven Kingdoms would give up a hand to be gifted something from the Prince Daemon. Rhaenyra, as extraordinary as she was, she was no different in that respect.

One of her favorite gifts was jewels her uncle brought back, for everyone at court knew who had laid them on her skin. She wore the finest gems and metals the known world had to offer— and it was nothing less than what she had come to expect.

She demanded gifts, even from Daemon. After embracing her dear uncle upon his eventual return, she promptly asked where his favor was, to the point where he always carried a small gift on his person when going to greet her.

Daemon wasn’t offended by the girl's materialism though, no.

Not when he himself had grown up spoiled and cared for— the favorite if you will, and he hadn’t even been a Prince in his boyhood. She had never known a time when she wasn’t a Princess, and he knew she would be spoiled rotten, his little dragon.

His reign as the favorite ended with the girl's birth, just a week before his own, and it had been a breath of fresh air for he and his father, as well as the King and Queen, who had suffered so much loss. He was happy to pass over the title, though his grandsire pulled him aside and told him he’d always be number one in his heart.

One look at Rhaenyra in Jaehaerys’ arms and Daemon knew that wasn’t true.

Because of her and her infectious joy, Daemon had gotten his father back for the last few years of his life and for that? He was eternally grateful to her and would get her the moon if she asked for it. All he wanted in life truly, was for his niece to be happy and safe, her days full of joy and light.

Had he started to appreciate the fullness of her bosom or the curve of her backside before he should have?

Yes. She was the prettiest little thing, his niece was. A Valyrian violet ripe for the plucking and he ached to be the one who had the pleasure. He loved her fire and wanted to be doused in it, wanted it to char him to the bones if only that meant to be wrapped in her embrace.

He’d, shamefully, wanted her since he returned for her two and ten name day and found her flowered and budding beautifully. She was so beautiful back then— young and very petite, but she caused his cock to fatten better than any whore and it only got worse as she grew and spread out. The older she got, the deeper his desire ran.

Where her breasts had been mouthfuls, they were now handfuls, and he longed to feel the weight of her in his hands. Longed to see what she hid from his eyes under the layers of fabric intricately woven gowns she donned, so he did. It was easy to slip behind her rooms and watch her undress and bathe.

It was wrong he knew, to invade the privacy of his three and ten year old niece, but he couldn’t help himself— it was like an impulse he couldn’t control and it’s why he found himself in Maegor’s passages more nights than not, watching his blissfully unaware niece prance about for his viewing pleasure. It’d been two years of restraint on his part— he couldn’t take much more.

When he wasn’t lurking about behind his nieces rooms with torches, he was buried inside a silver-haired maiden he’d made call him kepa.

So no, Daemon didn’t know what he had done to deserve such a life as the one he had— not because he was a Prince of the Realm, he wasn’t anymore and hadn’t been for many years.

He didn’t mourn his loss in station, because there wasn’t one, that was the thing about Westeros, everything was for fucking show. Viserys didn’t understand that he was a Prince of the Blood, and that wasn’t something he could take away with a simple word.

He was a Targaryen, a thoroughbred Valyrian and he was more than a crown, cared for more than a crown.

He had been Rhaenyra’s uncle for five and ten years, and now he would be her husband. So fucking what he wasn’t called Prince Daemon anymore. He would recoup his losses by bloodying his cock with her purity. Rhaenyra’s father, clearly, hadn’t meant for this to turn this way, both Targaryens had been betrothed to the Velaryon siblings, but what was the saying?

Men plan, and the gods laugh.

Viserys had planned and planned and planned and it had been for naught in the end, for the gods had shown their favor to his younger brother, giving him life's truest blessing indeed, a wife of his blood to carry on his line with a purity only she could.

The Lord of Flea Bottom, at the ripe age of one and thirty decided a five and ten wife would do him well, mayhaps it would keep him young, he thought. All it took was some of Caraxes’ scent on his palm and a well placed rock, and nothing stood in the way of the Prince’s aspirations of a niece-wife.

Rhaenyra would be grateful, he was sure, to be free of her father and not stuck in a loveless, passionless marriage with Laenor Velaryon, where she would surely be forced to bare bastards. He would treat her well, both her heart and that hot, little cunt between her thighs.

All he had ever wanted was a wife of his own, someone who could understand him and love him regardless of the darkness that surrounded his soul, who could look past his worst deeds and still hold him at night. If anyone was that woman, it was Rhaenyra.

Aegarax had said it clearly, ‘Do not forget, nor turn away from the words of my mouth. Do not forsake her, and she will preserve you; love her, and she will keep you. She will place on your head an ornament of grace, a crown of glory she will deliver to you. For her proceeds are better than the profits of silver, and her gains more than fine white gold.

She is more precious than rubies, diamonds or pearls, and all the things you may desire cannot compare to her. Length of days is in her right hand, in her left hand riches and honor. Her ways are ways of pleasantness. She is a tree of life to those who take hold of her, and happy are all who retain her .’

That was all he wanted in life, truly.

Not riches or land or titles— he wanted to protect his blood and keep it pure, for it was his Father’s before it was his. Six and ten years was not an unreasonable age gap, ask Viserra from beyond the pyre. Though, Viserys’ new wife was one and ten years younger than him and the King looked like fucking death warmed over.

He knew some Andal bitch’s cunt didn’t have the same therapeutic properties as a purebred Valyrian, though.

In the end Daemon absconded with his niece during the week of festivities, just after winning the tournament and naming her Queen of Love and Beauty, and before her wedding to Laenor Velaryon and took her to Dragonstone to take her as his wife.

He was successful in his plot, of course, wedding the girl before the Fourteen gods of Old Valyria and bedding her promptly, and well. She was as eager, if not more then he was, clawing off his clothing and demanding his seed in the depths of her body.

When the King summoned them back and threatened him with annulment, Daemon laughed in his brother’s naive face.

“We bound our blood before our ancestors, we swore vows before the stars, Viserys, not the Seven. That old crow can’t come up here and annul this union. The girl is mine, Viserys and trust me— I’ve had her.” The King’s face bloomed a red deeper than the most expensive ruby at his brother's crude comment.

The smirk on Daemon’s face could only be taken as mocking, his amused chuckle ringing through the throne room. He had tried to make sure they could hear his niece's pleasure all the way across the Blackwater, and he had succeeded.

The King couldn’t go anywhere without hearing men remarking on how she is Alyssa Targaryen’s granddaughter and he— Baelon’s son. What a pair they made, the uncle and niece… husband and wife.

“You’ve ruined her you fucking twat! Have you no shame in that black heart of yours?! What lord will have her now?!” The King screamed at him. How dull was he? Heavens above. “Have you always been bitter that I handed your titles to her? So much so that you would seek to weaken your own blood?! I should take your fucking head and be done with all this stress you constantly cause me!”

Daemon wouldn’t give his brother the satisfaction of reacting to something he would never actually do.

Plus, there were only five Kingsguard between him and the King, and Daemon loved those odds. Dark Sister could cut through them easier than a hot knife through butter.

“She is mine to ruin. And I’ll burn your precious Seven Kingdoms to the ground if you insinuate another man having my wife again,” his brother responded, his grip on the pommel of his sword crushing— something that didn’t escape anyone in the room. Didn’t Viserys fucking get it? Daemon would run Dark Sister through whomever he needed to, should they stand between him and his wife, his niece. “To. The. Fucking. Ground.”

In the end Daemon Targaryen was stripped of his titles, cast out, left with only his surname to navigate the world beyond the Seven Kingdoms.

He’d been officially exiled across the Narrow Sea, never to set foot in King Viserys’ land lest he wish for his pretty head to roll. He didn’t mind much, the city smelled of pure shit— and there wasn’t much he cared about in King’s Landing beside Rhaenyra and they would not be separated.

It was all very… theatrical, Daemon thought. Petty. Fitting for his cunt of a brother, and in no way a shock for Daemon like it was for his wife.

It was well known to Daemon and the smallfolk alike that Viserys had been itching to get rid of him for years, it was only a matter of time before he found something to throw the book at Daemon and banish him forever, Daemon just decided he would get something out of the deal for the first time in their lives.

What the King hadn’t thought of was Rhaenyra and her loyalties. Viserys was a fool not to see what was happening in front of him, convinced Rhaenyra would truly turn her back on her husband— her uncle .

She wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Either or… it didn’t matter.

Daemon had her undying loyalty, he’d always had it, and she would never betray him like that, make him feel unwanted or unloved.

No.

What was a throne to a Daemon’s love? To true companionship, friendship? Acceptance? Why would she give that up for a life of unhappiness under the hateful gaze of her stepmother? She wouldn’t.

Rhaenyra left with her uncle, renouncing her claim on the Iron Throne and abandoning her titles as well. She’d had no choice but to, given Daemon’s exile. She wouldn’t live without her uncle, without her husband. It was unthinkable.

She had long been vocal about how much she dreaded her uncle’s frequent trips abroad, and he was her husband now. Did the King truly think they would be separated? Or that she would take a second husband?

Try as the King might to maintain his grip on his daughter, Viserys had to let her go. She was a dragon, she had a dragon and she wouldn’t be chained.

She would fight tooth and claw to get back to Daemon’s side, her father knew. When he asked if she’d visit she told him only if her husband was welcome, so in short, hells no. She turned and walked right out of his life, like she was never even there.

Viserys wanted to say it hurt to watch Rhaenyra choose Daemon, but he’d been watching it for five and ten years, and by now he knew he would always be second to Daemon. He wanted it to hurt, but really— he wanted to forget.

Somedays, as he sat around his dining table, looking in the faces of his wife and children, he wished he hadn’t known what life was with them there, at least it would hurt less.

He wouldn’t have to think of her with Daemon, probably laughing at his naivete, at how they fooled him, ran away to leave him in the shadows, ever the fool.

The pair circled the Free Cities, Caraxes and Syrax, their ever faithful companions and mounts by their sides. Daemon wouldn’t couldn’t keep his hands off of his niece.

Rhaenyra preferred Lys while Daemon had always been partial to Pentos. They turned eyes wherever they went, reports most certainly getting back to the King.

So yes, the King was finally free of his menace of a brother, but at what cost? His beloved eldest child, gone, never to return based on her loyalty for a man who had ruined her! A man who continued to ruin her reputation, sordid details of their escapades flowing through the Seven Kingdoms like rivers.

It caused the King to lose sleep at night, thinking of how smug Daemon must be, nights wrapped in the arms of his darling daughter. It was unfair, and the whole of court felt her absence with every snap of the King.

He had turned irritable, mean and mocking— because the whole Seven Kingdoms, hells, probably all of the known world was laughing behind his back.

Viserys can’t even command his household, how can he command Seven Kingdoms?

The Seven have frowned upon the Targaryen’s time and time again. When will they learn?

Another Saera, another Viserra. What is new?

This is why women were not meant to inherit. Why won’t he just name Aegon his heir?

I’d wager the Queen is pleased with this turn of events. Perhaps now her princeling will be heir.

Have you heard of their exploits across the Narrow Sea? I guess the Free Cities do not have things such as modesty. Fitting for Targaryens.

How could they embarrass him in such a way? Leaving him behind, alone now, since Corlys and Rhaenys were upset with him. He had no true kin around him, not a silver hair in sight that would protect him and why? What had he done to deserve such a fate?

Aegon wasn’t meant to sit the throne, it was meant to go to Rhaenyra— to Aemma . He needed her blood on the throne, she deserved it after what he had done to her. So he sent raven after raven, emissary after emissary to no avail.

He told her his brother was a rogue, a promiscuous man who would drag her to the pits of the Seven Hells. The King contended Daemon was a lecher, a lascivious man who would never be faithful to her, that she would live her life as no more than another whore in his harem.

But Rhaenyra knew the truth of her husband, of his heart. His wants and desires. All Daemon had ever wanted was love and affection. His whoring and drinking were no more than attempts to cope with his own insecurities and unhappiness. But he wasn’t that man anymore. He had love— acceptance and he would never betray Rhaenyra in such a way.

Furthermore, the two were never apart. When would Daemon even have time to be unfaithful? Between the bed and the privy?

Daemon was so cunt struck by his wife that if you looked up the word in a dictionary his portrait would be right there, his face covered in his wife’s slick.

He had loved his niece since she was born, he would never hurt her in such a way— and his niece knew that, never doubted his loyalty or listened to her father

So the two lived in peace, in bliss, in love wrapped up in each other, unwilling to let Viserys ruin the happiness they had created for themselves. Daemon showed her everything she’d wanted to see, bought her whatever her eyes laid upon, and served at her whim.

She had no need for Jaehaerys’ crown, not when Daemon made her feel like a Queen without having to suffer for it.

The former Princess was having a glorious time being spoiled and loved by her uncle, though it wasn’t much different to how entire life had gone, spoiled, loved and doted upon by the once Prince. They traveled to a different place everyday, slept somewhere different each night, and did what they wanted to.

Just as Daemon had told her, it was incredibly freeing to be able to do what you want, when you want. She didn’t have to worry about the politics of court, she could just be— they could just be.

She could kiss her husband whenever she wanted, duck into a deserted corner, pull up her lace skirts, fuck her husband and not have to worry about propriety or decency or the stupid fucking Seven.

It was liberation , and she found herself letting go of years of resentment she held towards Daemon when he was flying off, always leaving her behind.

He had always promised to take her with him one day, show her the pleasures that existed beyond her fathers heedless grasp. And now she understood— why he left so often.

Her father was controlling and pious and left no space in a room for joy. Rhaenyra had no idea why her father hated his brother so, or why he treated him so poorly that he felt the need to distance himself from his very blood.

She had no idea.

What she did know was she never wanted to go back to the Seven Kingdoms. Back to bondage, to scrutiny. Back to face the committee of vultures who wanted nothing more than to rip her flesh from her bones.

But Daemon had, for her.

He always came back home, never missing her name day, the anniversary of her taking to the skies on dear Syrax or her mother’s death, arms full of jewels and gems, books, instruments, weapons— full of comfort.

He always came back, and that alone filled her heart with so much joy it bled through her very skin. It was easy to feel unloved by her father, for she knew for all his insistence that she be his heir, the decision came from a mix of his guilt over his hand in her mother’s death and his rejection of his brother. He’d wanted a son, not a daughter.

She hadn’t been the Crown Princess of Westeros because her father believed in her, no. She was the salve to a wound he gave himself.

In this life, the one she built with her husband, she was able to freely feel joy, and didn’t have to dampen herself for the fools around her. And her dear husband loved seeing her like that, happier than she’d ever been and glowing.

Daemon loved their lives as nomads on dragonback. Well, until she told him she was with child, about four moons into their marriage.

It really shouldn’t have been surprising to Daemon, they went at it like rabbits and he spent himself into her cunt literally every chance he got, but somehow he was still shocked.

He wondered how fast the news made it to his brother. Viserys certainly had spies, though how effective they were, he had no clue.

It was probably best to get out of the public eye and into a more private dwelling. After all, there was no need to make the job of those on Viserys’ payroll easier. If they wanted to follow he and his wife and report their comings and goings back to the King, they would have to earn the coin they were paid.

So he reached out to his ever-accommodating friend, Prince Reggio, who set him up on an island he owned with a small, five and twenty room castle, named Ivyhall Estate, run by a small staff. It was secluded, private, right up Rhaenyra and Daemon’s alley.

Rhaenyra was overjoyed, of course, ready to start their lives as a true married couple. So far, she felt like a courting couple, minus all of the toe-curling sex.

There were caves on the north side of the island Caraxes had worked hard inside to build a nest for Syrax and himself. Daemon found it cute, the way Caraxes liked to decorate with sheep bones. There were no sheep on the island— and those bones were freshly charred but sometimes ignorance is bliss. He would choose not to think about how Caraxes procured such gifts for his mate.

Courtship feeding was not exclusive to dragons, but they certainly did it the best.

Daemon, at first, worried about how pregnancy would treat her, given her father but Rhaenyra had melted right in, and won the hearts of the servants here, too. She looked so beautiful, full of life and glowing, waddling around like a Northern ice bird he’d seen once on a diplomatic trip to Winterfell.

He loved her, adored her more than any man had a woman before. She was everything to him, his home and his heart in one. It was a glorious feeling of belonging, one he hadn’t felt before even though Rhaenyra had always blatantly favored him.

He had a family now, a wife with a child safely beneath her heart, growing and forming— a blessing. One of the truest forms.

It meant so much more that regardless of her fears and apprehensions she was excited to bear his child. Not because they needed an heir, but because she loved him. She loved him so much she wanted a babe that was half of him, and she was willing to risk her life to get it.

She knew Daemon would never butcher her the way her father had her mother, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t still perish in the birthing bed, as her mother and her mother did before her.

She felt blessed in that way, for she knew her value didn’t stop at her womb in her uncle’s eyes. And blessed they were.

During the year 114 AC, Rhaenyra gave Daemon three perfect sons to carry on his name. Her twins were first born, Aegon and Viserys, both born with lavender eyes and the white-gold hair of their father, named for their kepas, and were both given eggs from Syrax and Caraxes’ latest clutch.

Their parents were delighted when they hatched, Aegon bonded to a beautiful black dragon named Aegarax, and Viserys to a red she-dragon, Tyraxes. Daemon named Syrax, it was only fitting he name their sons dragons too.

Both eggs hatched in their cradles within days of each other, but Daemon and Rhaenyra couldn’t remember which happened first. First-time parents' brain fog, they attributed that to. It didn’t matter either way, this was a sign from the Fourteen and Daemon was glad about it. Let all see how fruitful their union was, in sons and dragons. None could say their union was cursed.

Next came their youngest son, Maekar, born only ten moons after the twins. While he wasn't a mistake— Rhaenyra would never allow him to be called that, his conception could be blamed on two flagons of well- aged Dornish strongwine Daemon imported in celebration of the births of his twin sons.

Daemon was always over indulgent with wine, so much so that his wife often said his patron god had to be Caraxes himself, god of drunkenness, so that wasn’t surprising that he was ridiculously drunk. Rhaenyra had abstained from wine for her entire pregnancy, so she was slightly out of practice and drank way too much.

Things obviously went too far, and nine moons later they had a third son born in the eleventh moon in the year 114 AC. He had heterochromia iridum, his right eye green and his left violet.

He was the quietest babe out of the three, for he rarely fussed. No, he was more content to gaze at his mother whether he was suckling at her breast or laid on the featherbed turned to the direction of his own sun.

Daemon had cried when he saw his son, and thanked his wife over and over again for the chance to see his mother again. He was so in love with his son, absolutely besotted.

It wasn’t that he didn’t feel this wave of emotions when the twins were born, this pregnancy was high risk and he worried day and night over the fates of his wife and unborn child. The labor had been hard, but his niece had fought through it. The relief of them both being alive and well made Daemon want to make an altar to worship Meleys.

Maekar’s egg didn’t hatch, in fact, it turned to stone almost immediately. Daemon and Rhaenyra weren’t particularly worried about it, though. They were certain he would mount a dragon in due time. All of their children would have dragons with their blood in their veins, the blood of a true dragon was, indeed, thick.

Daemon and Rhaenyra were dragonriders but even in that, they were set apart from their kin, their relationships with their dragons rare. Cradle born dragons were exceptionally rare, and to have not one but three in your family? It was unheard of. Three out of five was not bad.

Aegon and Viserys took after Rhaenyra so Daemon decided Maekar would take after him.

Everyone said Daemon had Alyssa’s personality, he might just see his mother in the flesh again. She had claimed a dragon too, like Daemon, an unridden one at that. Maekar would too.

So no they weren’t worried, Daemon had claimed his right to the skies and so would Maekar and every descendant of them after. It was foretold by the gods, he was sure.

Daemon was glad when he was born, that both he and his mother were in perfect health for Maekar would be their last babe.

He saw no point in pushing the gods… what more could he want than three sons to carry on the Targaryen name? They had done well. They had done way better than Daemon’s simpleton brother, getting his Andal whore fat with medicore babe every chance he got.

Rhaenyra had resisted, of course, but he wouldn’t hear it. After her last pregnancy he was ready to be done with babe-making. He had to ask himself, would he rather his wife or another babe? The answer was simple for him.

They didn’t need anymore small feet pattering around, mischievous, fair-headed demons ransacking the castle for shits and giggles.

Their days were full enough, three sons in less than a year? Their hands were too full, if the bags under Daemon’s eyes the entire year after Maekar’s birth were any indication.

It was now the tenth moon of the year 122 AC, their youngest son, Maekar, now was just a moon shy of eight years old, and as bright and happy as his older brothers, now eight themselves.

Daemon’s mornings all started the same, much to his enjoyment. Maekar in his face shaking him insistently, his little voice with the cutest, purest Valyrian accent.

That was another freedom that came with living on this side of the Narrow Sea, their house was an almost fully Valyrian speaking house. Common was indeed rare in Daemon’s household.

“Kepa,” he’d whisper, his nails scraping his father’s skin, careful to not wake his mother. “Kepa. I am hungry. Can we break our fasts?” All this boy thought about was eating, Daemon swore.

Daemon rolled over and cracked an eye at his beautiful son, each time he saw his son's eyes, he fell in love. He grabbed his son, hauling him over the edge of the bed before he started pressing kisses all over his precious, cherubic face.

“Hungry are you, my son?” Daemon was less concerned with Rhaenyra’s sleep, she could sleep through a volcanic eruption. “Then we must get you fed, huh? Are your brothers up yet?”

The boy giggled before settling down on his bare father’s chest, “I think Aegon is. Vis kicked me out of his room,” the boy pouted. Daemon would talk to the boy.

“Alright. Come, let us go down to the kitchens.”

Daemon and Rhaenyra’s lives in Pentos were so different from the ones they lived in Westeros. While they still had cooks and servants, one hundred percent of the childrearing was done by Daemon and Rhaenyra, even the feeding of her children when they still consumed breast milk.

She didn’t mind it, didn’t find it to be a chore. It made her closer to her children, closer than she would have ever been able to her sons if they had lived in King’s Landing, where maids did most of the work.

Boys weren’t supposed to be seen loving their mothers, that gets them shipped straight to another Lord’s castle to be fostered and turned into real men. Her children would have been ripped from her, entrusted to lords she didn’t fucking trust. It was better this way, with this life. Her boys would flourish now that they were free of the burden that was the crown. Everything was so different here. So easy.

Rhaenyra and Daemon bathed themselves and their children, and if Rhaenyra ever needed help getting dressed, it was her husband who assisted her.

It truly was a simple life compared to the one they left behind. The one they barely even talked about with kids, beside who their mother and father were and the station they kept.

Viserys hadn’t officially stripped Rhaenyra and named his son Aegon as his heir, but neither one ever meant to actually ascend the throne, they didn’t care how much their brother wanted to drag his fucking feet.

Daemon couldn’t step foot in Westeros and Rhaenyra would never leave him, so what options did they have but to be happy with what they had?

They both figured he would eventually name his son as his successor, and as every year went by and he didn’t— Daemon knew how much of a disappointment his son must be. His long awaited son by that Hightower whore and he hadn’t named him heir in over eight years? He had to be a royal fuck up. The boy probably reminded Viserys of his younger brother.

Daemon had been so scared, in the beginning of their lives together. So worried she’d resent him for her loss in station, the loss of her legacy but she assured him their legacy would be one known for eons.

And she was right, Rhaenyra had both the three brightest boys— and all three, Aegon, Viserys and Maekar had taken to the skies on their very own dragons. All three were seven when they took to the skies, little dragonriding prodigies like their mother.

Aegon, their eldest, rode Aegarax, a temperamental and rash dragon— the best kind in Daemon’s opinion and Aegarax took after Caraxes in that regard. ‘Ill Tempered’ is what they'd named the hatchling when he was barely a year old. But he was never like that with Aegon, he was gentle, loving.

The two took to the skies during the third moon of 121 AC. He had no saddle— something Rhaenyra almost fainted over but it was what it was. She wouldn’t deny her hatchlings the sky, no matter how much the thought put fear in her heart.

Viserys was next, the very next moon, ascending the skies on a red she-dragon, one he named after his father’s dragon, Tyraxes. She was more like her mother, Syrax, laid back and as calm as a dragon can be. Basically, the opposite of Caraxes.

Tyraxes wasn’t saddled either, but because the dragons weren’t chained they grew quickly and fiercely, even Syrax and Caraxes. Their spinal plates were easy enough to grab and Daemon had five pairs of the highest quality riding leathers along with gloves made to aid them in the skies.

Maekar was another matter entirely. He didn’t have a cradle born dragon— he’d had to claim one. But how? There were no unclaimed dragons in Pentos, and none of the other eggs in the clutch had hatched.

Daemon assumed once he was older he would be invited to King’s Landing and the King would surely fall in love with all his sons, but especially Maekar as Daemon did. With eyes like his, Viserys would be overwhelmed with love and would shove an egg into his arms.

There was no need, however. His son was exceptional and silently commanded a dragon to cross the Narrow Sea to be claimed. Daemon had sensed something off with his sons, who had told him for at least a sennight prior to that fateful day, that his dreams had been weird. Maekar’s father now knew that his son could warg into his dragon's eyes.

In the seventh moon of the year 122 AC, The Cannibal descended on the island, immediately gaining the attention of Caraxes, Syrax and Aegarax… all kept their distance, though.

Tyraxes was enjoying a sheep Caraxes had brought her and could care less about all of the commotion— he was a doting father. So long as Viserys wasn’t out here, her attention was on the charred sheep.

Maekar promptly claimed him and took to the skies, even though his mother nearly had a heart attack on the ground.

The Cannibal was re-named Aeraxes in honor of all his favorite dragons, he simply wouldn’t condone the usage of that ignorant name commoners had named him.

Caraxes, Syrax, Aegarax, Tyraxes and now Aeraxes. What a beautiful family.

After recovering from a panic attack, Rhaenyra demanded Daemon follow behind them on Caraxes, in fact she told all three of her sons they were not to fly without one of their parents escorting them. Syrax and Caraxes had grown quickly while being unchained as well and had outgrown their saddles.

They had been worried about Aeraxes but Maekar assured them he had spoken to him and his mount promised not to hunt their dragons. How he was so sure— no one knew, but Daemon trusted him.

Part of Rhaenyra wanted to ask the King if she could commission some since the saddle maker was a Crown employee, but Daemon asked her not to. He didn’t want anything to do with Westeros or Viserys.

Over the years, Daemon had grown bitter towards his brother in a way he never had been.

Was it so wrong that Daemon wanted a Valyrian bride for himself? A Targaryen woman at that? He loved his family, he would die for his family. When Aegon and Viserys were born, it was like his entire life turned upside down. When Maekar was born his heart gave out.

Of course Daemon wished for a daughter, but no child was worth Rhaenyra’s life. If the Seven had gotten anything right it was that gluttony was a grievous sin and he would not lose her over his love for his children.

And he did love his children. A father’s love truly was something. Having children with the woman you love must make you love the children more. He’s seen men not spare their children a second glance— he couldn’t imagine doing that. He wants to spend every minute of every day in the company of his wife and sons, he delighted in their company that much.

Word from Daemon’s spies in King’s Landing said all of four of the King’s childrens eggs had turned to complete stone and none had claimed a dragon yet, a bad omen from the gods.

He often hoped the King knew, hoped his own spies were good enough to share the good news. Three sons, Daemon had sired— and all three were dragonlords.

He’d put three sons in Viserys’ favorite child, and she’d begged him to. He really hoped he knew. He wanted that more than anything.

“I want bacon.”

Daemon rolled his eyes, “When do you not want bacon?” He asked the silver haired boy in his arms. “When you’re asleep? Or do you dream of bacon too, boy? I wouldn’t be surprised if that is what filled your head while you slept.”

“No I don’t dream of bacon, kepa,” he giggled as they descended the stairs to the kitchen. “Last night I dreamt of my dragon.”

This caused his father’s brow to shoot up, always keen to hear what adventures he embarked on that evening, “And what did you see?”

Daemon’s heart fluttered as he closed his eyes and the sweetest, most serene smile fell upon the young Targaryen’s face. “I see through his eyes, I think… he’s lonely. He wants for family but everyone is scared of him.” His brows furrowed at the thought, and his eyes flashed open, indignant as ever. “They don’t need to be scared, he isn’t scary. He’s just… big.”

He cupped his son’s cheek and kissed him, “Unfortunately, not many non-Targaryen’s think the way we do. They’re scared of dragons— but that isn’t always a bad thing. It keeps lesser men in check.”

Just as he finished his sentence, two other boys came barreling down the stairs, shouting and pushing each other.

“Hey! Hey! Cut it out,” he put Maekar down and grabbed the collar of Viserys and pulled him apart from Aegon. “Or there will be no flying today. Call my bluff if you will.” That got them to promptly fall in line. “I swear, you two fight worse than cats and dogs.”

“Master Daemon, boys! Good morrow,” the head chef Syren greeted the lot of silver haired intruders. “Come to place your order?”

“Good morrow, uh, yes. What do you want, boys?”

Viserys shrugged while Aegon pondered it.

“I want eggs and bacon and potatoes and honey cakes!” Maekar exclaimed. Daemon looked over to his sons in a silent question. When they didn’t speak out against their younger brother's choice he smiled at the kind chef. “Muña wants fruit,” he looked up at his father.

“Eggs, potatoes, bacon and honey cakes, please. Oh, and a bowl of porridge and fresh fruit for the lady of the house.”

“At once, master.”

He quickly shuffled the boys upstairs to dress them. First Aegon and Viserys and then Maekar. All three boys lived in connecting bedrooms with a shared bathroom which makes things so much easier for their parents to dress them. It usually was Daemon who dressed them before they ate, but only because Rhaenyra was the only one who could put them down at night. They were a great team. True partners.

Since the boys were eight and seven and fully capable of dressing themselves, Daemon was mostly there just to make sure the boys were bathed properly and their hair was done.

After bathing all three boys he oiled their skin and let that sink in while he picked out their clothes. Doublets and houppelandes did not work that well out here in the tropical climate, so they always forwent the outer layer.

One, two, three and all the boys are dressed. Thin black doublets and matching breeches for all three.

Next was styling their hair, Aegon and Viserys keep their hair lowly cut, not keen on the hard work it takes to maintain it.

Daemon had just chopped it off one day, sick and tired of the matted tangles he had to brush out after they ran around all day, so he oiled their hair and sent them on their way to entertain themselves while he finished with his youngest son.

Rhaenyra had been so cross with him, of course. “I made that hair Daemon! I created it, you can’t just cut it off without my knowledge,” she’d looked so sad and Daemon felt so bad. He apologized for a whole fortnight before she forgave him, stubborn girl.

Maekar was different— his little warrior. He was a Targaryen through and through and wanted nothing more than to look like his kepa.

He wore his hair in traditional Valyrian braids, the white-gold hair was well past his waist when loose now. His hair never came back tangled or unruly, no. His hair was his pride, but how could it not be? He was the most pious of Daemon and Rhaenyra’s children, and he abided by Aegarax’s holy word.

After getting his hair combed and oiled, Daemon expertly wove his son's silky hair into a single, long plait with a dragon clasp around the end of it to keep it together. “Go, now. Your brothers await you in the dining room.”

His son sent him a toothy smile, kissed his cheek and with that he was on his way to annoy his elder brothers, his braid swinging in his wake. Daemon made his way back to his shared bedchamber where his dear wife was still asleep. She had moved into his side, her face nuzzled into his pillow.

She always looked so beautiful in the early hours of the day, her braid fuzzy and frazzled, her lips plump and her cheeks full of color. Daemon palmed at her ass through the sheets before falling on top of her, pressing kisses into her face.

It took her a second to realize she was being crushed. “Ugh, get off,” she gasped under his bulk. “Daemon!”

He rolled off her with a chuckle, “Good morn.” She pushed at his shoulder while feigning anger. “Oh, do not look so upset. You have slept well past a respectable hour, sunshine. Your sons await your beautiful presence,” he kissed at her throat before getting out of bed. “Come on,” he said as he pulled on her arm.

“You are such a brute sometimes, by the gods.” She retorted as she slipped out of bed behind him, and after dabbing her face with water and a clean cloth, threw on a plush robe and house shoes.

“You don’t seem to mind it when I’m inside you, dearest. As I seem to recall, you’re always asking for it harder, rougher, deep —,”

“Okay! Let us be on our way,” the bloom of blush that arose on her cheeks, even after three children never failed to amaze Daemon. He didn’t get to stew very long in the feeling because now she was eagerly pulling him out of the door and straight to the dining room. She couldn’t help it, she was excited to see her sons and she had something very exciting to tell the men of her life. “I am famished.” That too.

Daemon was happy to follow behind her, her messy hair somehow making her look like a goddess. “Ladies first,” he smirked. As they made their way to the dining room they could hear their son’s boisterous voices ringing through the castle.

“Aegarax is faster than Tyraxes! She is lazy and plump and you are a liar!”

Tyraxes’ rider laughed, “She is way faster than your grump of a dragon.”

Maekar was gazing into a cup of mango juice, “What does it matter? My dragon is stronger and faster than both of yours combined,” he giggled deviously. “Muña!” At the first sight of his mother he ran and embraced her. “Did you sleep well?” He asked as he gazed up at her with his arms wrapped around her waist as Daemon sat down.

Cupping his face in her hands she grinned at her sweet boy, “I did, darling. How did you sleep?”

“Good!”

“Well. Maekar, well. You slept well,” his father interjected to fix his grammar.

“Muña, sit next to me!” Viserys called out, even though he hadn’t bothered to stand and greet his mother.

“My wife will be sitting with her husband, thank you very much,” he grinned as he pulled her to his lap. “Where would you like to sit, my love? The chair or my lap?” He sent her a dazzling smile that made her want to absolutely melt.

“Stop teasing him! I will sit by my son, ser,” she slid off his lap and rounded the table. “Good morn, my love,” she pressed a kiss to his forehead and sat next to him. Aegon, from across the table, gave her a toothy grin.

The servants brought out the food to each member of the small family who said a blessing over the food before they dug in. Rhaenyra’s porridge was perfectly tempered and seasoned. The boys seemed to enjoy their meals as well.

“So, I have news I must share with you all,” she waited until she had all fours attention before focusing on Daemon, the anticipation causing her to smile. “I am with child again!” She waited to see the joy overtake her husband. It didn’t. She turned to her sons. “You will have a baby brother or sister soon!”

“What?” Was all Daemon could muster.

This caused her to falter, she hadn’t expected this reaction from her husband. “I– Daemon.” She didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t done it on purpose, her courses had stopped and then came the nausea and she knew a new babe was nestled in her womb, she’d been pregnant enough to know the signs. But her husband's look of betrayal on his face, as if she had to trick him into spending inside her, bothered her deeply.

“A new brother!” Viserys bellows out beside her, oblivious to his parents and the tension around them.

“Or sister,” Maekar remarks, his eyes glued on his mother. “Muña? What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head, because in truth all is right. Their family was expanding and that was a wondrous thing, that was not to be looked over. Three pregnancies and she hadn't even really tried? Had Daemon forgotten her mother’s fate? Rhaenyra was young and fertile, she should be full of him every chance she got.

So what she had a few problems in her last pregnancy? Every woman dealt with something, it was unavoidable. If every woman stopped having babes after a few complications their line would have died out long ago. They were lucky to be in such a position and she would be damned if they would squander it.

“Nothing, love. I am very happy, as is your father. Aren't you, honey?” She hoped the grit in her voice was at a minimum, the boys were not as oblivious as they once were.

With his lips pulled in a thin line he agreed, “Of course,” his eyes shot daggers at his wife. “What a blessing.”

•••

“What have you done, Rhaenyra?” He has gotten her back to their rooms after sending his sons off so he may speak to their mother interrupted. “Answer me.”

“What have I done?! What did you do? I did not spend inside myself, I will tell you that.” This makes him scowl at her.

“Have you been drinking your tea?” He was speaking to her in a way he never had before— she wasn’t sure what to even say about that. Why was he so suspicious of her?

“What is your fucking problem?”

He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation, “Maekar was to be our last child! We both agreed to such—,”

“Oh, no, we did not both agree, you decided and poured tea down my throat every day thereafter!” Rhaenyra wanted to carry a thousand of her husband’s children, she’d told him. So had his mother, he reminded her in turn.

His face twisted. “So you admit to being disgruntled.”

“Disgruntled? I am your wife!” Try as she might to keep her voice down, she was failing. “It is my duty to bear you children.”

“We left duty behind the Narrow Sea,” he seethed. “I don’t want to hear about fucking duty, Rhaenyra. You have a duty to the real, live children that you already have,” why couldn’t she see his point of view? Had both of them not lost their mothers in the same fashion? He wouldn’t lose her the same way. He couldn’t and here she was, tempting the fates. Why? “To your husband!” Gods forbid she leaves him with these three children and possibly a fourth.

“Daemon, nothing is going to happen to me, you must understand that. I am not going to leave you or our sons, do you hear me?” She took his face in her hands, angling his face to hers and looked in his eyes, silently pleading with him to believe her. “I would never leave you, Daemon. The gods themselves could not keep me from you. You must know that.”

All he could give her back was a pained expression. It was too large a risk for Daemon, and he had to bite his tongue to stop him from suggesting ending the pregnancy. There were ways after all, especially in Pentos but he didn’t think Rhaenyra would ever forgive for even uttering such a thing. He didn’t think he’d forgive himself.

“You don’t know that,” is all he could say.

“Daemon. I drank the tea, and still— we have been blessed with a child. By the gods! They would not bless us just to take me away,” her eyes are large and frantic, searching his face for any shred of happiness. “I know you wish for a daughter… Visenya? Can you not feel her?” She closed her eyes and pressed his palm to her still-flat stomach. “She’s right here.”

She needed him to be happy, or she wouldn’t be. She was but maybe two moons into this pregnancy, there were still seven moons to go and she didn’t want the castle full of strife and conflict. Daemon was a great father, and he was a great partner to have while pregnant.

She didn’t lift a hand nor foot, her husband always scooping her up so she didn’t have to walk on her swollen ankles and feet. Whatever craving she wanted, even ones he had to spend days traveling for, he got. She was spoiled, had been since birth and that definitely wasn’t going to change while she carried his child.

Two pregnancies now, and she couldn’t imagine a third without the same treatment. When she opened her eyes again she saw tears in his, “You don’t understand, Rhaenyra… how you looked. Your eyes lost their fucking shine. I almost watched you die,” he peeled her fingers off of him and turned his back to her. “The gods give and the gods take away. So is the way of life— and not even we can escape it,” he muttered sadly, flashes of his mother and hers playing behind his eyelids. Screams and anguish. He felt ill. “I cannot. You cannot.”

“Please, Daemon.” She was sick thinking about this, there was no point. The gods would do what they would. “This is a blessing. And this shall be our last. I promise.” She just wanted one more chance for a daughter— for Visenya. “Please, don’t hate me,” she sniffled as she watched her husband take a long inhale of breath.

His shoulders slumped as he released a large sigh, “Do not say that. I could never hate you, Rhaenyra,” he turned back to his wife and wiped the tears that had fallen down her face. “I am scared to lose you, is all. Please, don’t cry. I am happy, of course I am.” He wrapped her in his arms and soaked in the feeling of her pressed against him. And he truly was so happy, as soon as the shock and anger had worn off, elation crept in.

A potential daughter? With Rhaenyra? He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more. “Visenya,” he whispered into her ear, pressing kisses just under her ear and palming at her supple backside more. True to Rhaenyra’s nature, she pressed into her husband more and wrapped her arms around him.

Though the thought made him want to cry, he really hoped this babe was a girl. His sons were amazing, beautiful, sweet boys that would carry on his legacy proudly. But a daughter would be his to love and spoil. A little girl that looked like her mother would break his heart and put it back together. He wanted that so badly.

“Really?” She sounded so hopeful he wanted to kick himself. Why he had made her feel so shitty while she was pregnant— he didn’t know. He was an idiot. He just held her harder.

“I love our children, any more would be welcome additions,” he kissed her before pulling back and placing his left palm back onto her stomach and pulled her towards him by the back of her neck with his right hand. The next kiss he places on her lips is soft, sweet. “I love you so much, Rhaenyra. Never forget that, my sweet girl.” The hand on the back of her neck tilts her head back so she can look into his eyes better. “Gods as my witness, you better not leave me.” He would reach into Balerion’s chest and take her soul back himself.

His words were serious, but his tone was light. So was the way of Daemon, mercurial and odd, but Rhaenyra loved him more than anything and she was sure it made her love her children more. She didn’t care about having to constantly reassure her husband, she vowed to love him unconditionally, and she would. How could she not adore this man after he freed her and gave her three of the most beautiful gifts anyone had ever received?

Alicent couldn’t be bothered to look at Aegon or Helaena for more than two seconds without a maid or her father prompting it, but Rhaenyra? All she wanted to do was look at and care for her sons. They were so beautiful, so bright— so talented. Daemon thought them to be the smartest boys in the world and both parents were sure their next babe would be just as amazing.

Everyday they acted and looked more like their father, and Rhaenyra loved to see it— encouraged it even. Daemon wanted daughters that looked like her, but she still hoped this babe in her belly would take on the personality of their father. And by the gods, she would be there to see it. “Don’t you worry.”

“I am excited, I am.” He pressed some open-mouthed kisses to neck before opening her robe to see her nightshift. “You are such a sight when you’re full of me,” his eyes were glued on her stomach. He could almost see how she would swell with their babe, girl or boy, it truly didn’t matter. The babe would be loved either way.

“You have been glowing, I suppose we know why now, huh? May I?” He didn’t wait for her permission before lifting her shift up over her head, her dusty nipples staring at him, his fingers unable to stop themselves from tweaking them until she twisted and yelped in pain.

“Shh, shh,” he cooed as he brought his head down to each of her breasts and suckled, to soothe the ache he’d caused. He couldn’t wait for her milk to come in, he loved the rich, sweet taste of her, and understood why her sons were so enamored with their mother. How could they not be? When she dribbled such nectar in their mouths?

Her gasps of pleasure rang through their bedroom, the unrestrained sounds bouncing off of the walls in earnest. “Daemon,” she moaned, her fingers grabbing at his shoulders.

(Thankfully the boys were down by the stables attending to their mounts, Aeraxes circling above or laid upon a hill watching, always ensuring the safety of his rider.)

Daemon hoisted her up and carried her to the bed before dropping her with a thud, her bare body spread out before him, his fingers tracing the lines that were the previous evidence of Daemon’s seed taking root inside of her imprinted into her very skin.

“Yes, love?” A hand shot out and grabbed her foot, bringing it up to his lips where he placed kisses on the soles of her foot and up her calf. Gods, he loved this woman, she was the greatest thing to ever happen to him. Her skin felt like the purest of silks to him, lightly dusty in the perfumed oils she used in her baths.

She was all but panting at this point, just a heap of sexual frustration and longing. Sex with Daemon was… life changing. The way he revered her, worshiped her. She felt like Syrax in the flesh— a goddess set apart from mere women, and that was when she wasn’t pregnant and exceptionally sensitive. Now? She was an absolute mess.

“Please,” was all she whispered, her lower lip grasped between her teeth before Daemon thumbed it free, afraid of her re-splitting the cut on her lip as she had done plenty of times previously. She was aflame with desire, her cunt was pulsating and leaking slick, all in preparation to take Daemon into the pits of her being. “Please, uncle, I want you.”

“Is that so?” His hand made its way to where his child laid, safely tucked inside the love of his life, willing it to be a girl. “And what is it you want, sweetling?” He smirked at his niece.

“Do not be cruel, kepa. Would you keep the woman carrying your child left wanting? I thought you a gentleman, ser,” while she loved the feeling of his hot hands on the thin skin of her abdomen, the feel of his cock inside her would always be preferred, and she had no patience to wait. “Are you not an honorable knight?”

Flames have mercy if she didn’t know exactly how to reach the depths of his soul, his cock, growing even harder in his breeches was begging to be freed, and who was Daemon to deny him?

“You are such a fucking brat,” he snided, his words were harsh, but his body sang another tune. Her words caused his pupils to dilate until his eyes almost were fully black, just barely ringed in that beautiful lilac that was so unique to him. “There isn’t anything honorable about me. You know that.”

“No, I’m your sweet girl,” she pushed stray hairs out of her face and sat up to unlace his breeches, eager to get to his swollen cock. When finally she pulls his appendage out, he’s red and thick— leaking his own slick all over her nimble fingers that she quickly licks away. With her tongue on the underside of cock, it jerked, a wave of salt coating her tastebuds. “Mm, see?”

Daemon had enough of wife and her teasing, pushing her down and onto her stomach before having his way with her.

•••

Nearly a year after the birth of their twin daughters, Visenya and Viserra, bonded to the dragons Vermax and Arrax respectively, Daemon and Rhaenyra received word from Westeros for the first time in a decade. It was not welcome or wanted by the former heiress, in fact if she had received it before her husband she would have burned the cursed parchment.

Laena Velaryon, wife of Lord Jason Lannister, had perished in the birthing bed, leaving behind two daughters and a newborn son. Her funeral would be held at High Tide in accordance with the Merling god, to which Daemon and Rhaenyra’s household was invited.

The flight would be long and dangerous, and with two one year olds? That added another layer of uncertainty for Rhaenyra, and they had no means to acquire a ship that quickly. It was all too rushed for Rhaenyra, having to leave the day after they received the message from Laena’s younger brother.

Rhaenyra was nervous and didn’t think they should go, there was no reason to uproot their entire lives and the poor girl had already passed. Daemon had been officially exiled, not just the petty words of his brother like previous times. But Daemon wouldn’t hear it.

I have to be there for Corlys and Rhaenys, he’d told her. They need me.

So Rhaenyra found herself back in the thick of court, full of faces she hadn’t seen in years, she hadn’t wanted to see. She wanted to be back home, where the faces she saw throughout the day were mostly those of her kin.

Of course, she had to see her father eventually, his face still as stone as Rhaenyra, Daemon and their five children were brought before the King in the Great Hall of Nine. Rhaenyra was a mess of nerves, Daemon looked bored and disinterested and the children were in their own worlds, fascinated with the decoration of the luxurious hall and everyone's attention. Everyone was fawning over her children and their beauty, and her two eldest sons were eating it up.

Rhaenyra was the first to speak, “My King,” she bent into a bow the best she could with Viserra in her arms, as did her sons and husband. “It is a pleasure to see you after so many years, Your Grace.” She tried her best to give a smile that could not be described as a grimace. “And you, my Queen.”

”Brother,” was all Daemon said.

Viserys looked broken and decrepit, his left arm entirely gone. Part of her wonders what has happened in their absence, the other part knows the gods punish men who turn against their brothers, and bless those who have been wronged.

Viserys’ eyes sweep over his daughter, now a woman, with wonder. She looks so much like his dear Aemma, he thinks. Especially with her daughter in her arms, the year old girl heavy in her mothers arms now. “Many years indeed,” he tries not to look his brother in the face. “Well, introduce me, why don’t you?”

Rhaenyra cleared her throat, she had been ready for her fathers disrespect, so long as they left with Daemon’s head intact. She grabbed Aegon on the shoulder, momentarily squeezing. “My firstborns, the Princes Aegon and Viserys Targaryen,” she beamed as her son turned and faced her, Visenya snug in Viserys’s arms.

“They both bonded to cradle born dragons just days after their births. Aegon is bonded to the dragon Aegarax, and Viserys to a she-dragon, Tyraxes,” their father beamed.

Maekar had tucked himself against Daemon’s long leg, his knight in shining armor, too overwhelmed with the noise and people for the first time that the King hadn’t got a good look at the boy until now. “And this is Prince Maekar, my third born. He claimed the Cannibal at just seven years of age, and renamed him Aeraxes.” Rhaenyra cupped his cheek in her hand and smiled at her brave son— perhaps they should have named him Baelon, she thought.

Daemon spoke next. “Our twin girls, Princesses Visenya and Viserra came last. Just as their older twin brothers, they too have cradle born dragons,” Rhaenyra smiled at her father but his eyes were stuck on Maekar. “Vermax and Arrax, in that order.” But it is if the King didn’t hear his brother.

“Boy,” he called to Maekar. “Come here,” he beckoned him forward with his remaining hand that the young boy ignored, planted in his spot until his father nudged him forward. “Let me see you.”

Alicent by his side was outraged, the lines on her face a clear indication at how much time the Queen spent frowning. “Princes and Princesses? How do you figure that?” Her hateful gaze was directed at his son and all Daemon saw was red. How dare this common bitch speak of their children in such a tone? He could slit her worthless throat right here, right now. He had no qualms about having to clean off Dark Sister— he would make Maekar do it.

“Forgive me, Your Grace, as you can see my wife and I have been very busy,” he nods to the five children he put in Rhaenyra. “We were under the impression that Rhaenyra was still the Crown Princess of the Seven Kingdoms. Across the Narrow Sea we did not hear of Rhaenyra’s demotion… nor did we hear of little Aegon’s confirmation. I apologize,” he watched as the bitch swallowed. “Unless… no such thing happened and Rhaenyra is still first in line for the throne— and my son Aegon second by default.”

He didn’t know why that bitch was opening her mouth, a consort was meant to be seen and not heard. For reasons like this. She didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about. “She is still the Princess of Dragonstone, is she not? Your little princeling must not be up to Viserys’ standards, huh?”

“How dare you—,” she squawked out.

“How dare you is the question?” He countered before the King cut him off, seemingly done with gazing at his nephew-grandson with his mother’s eyes. Down to the shades.

“Enough!” His voice echoed through the hall as everyone looked at him. “Everyone out,” he waved his hand. “Except Rhaenyra and my brother.” When Alicent didn’t budge Viserys didn’t make her. “The children must go.”

Neither Daemon nor Rhaenyra were sure about leaving their children in the company of people they didn’t know, and like he could read their minds, Laenor spoke up— his voice barely above a whisper.

“I will watch them, Rhaenyra,” he nods to Daemon. “They’ll be safe with me.” And they believed him. “Come, come,” he ushers the children out of the room and then it’s just she and Daemon before the King and Queen.

“A decade later you come before me, daughter.” He gave a fleeting glance to the side. “Brother,” is all the King says, his eyes back to being glued on Rhaenyra.

“Aye, a decade later,” Daemon nods, his lips in a thin line. “And many more after that, I promise.” He couldn’t wait for this fucking funeral to be over. He wanted to be back in Pentos, safe where their children called home. Not here, in a pit of coin and power hungry people, desperate to tear his family apart. “Do not worry. We don’t plan to stay, lest I wish for my pretty head to roll.”

“Husband—,” Rhaenyra cuts herself off, her hand gravitating towards his own, desperately trying to calm him. She understood his edge, she carried it as well, but they should not be upsetting the King. “Father, he only meant we mean no disrespect. We are here only to pay our respects to House Velaryon and then we will be on our way home with our children,” she tried to appease him.

“Oh, so it’s no problem to show respect to them, but to me, your own father— you spit in my face. Pentos is not your home! Your home is in King’s Landing— by my side,” he gasped out, slumped in his chair. “Both of you— by my side. Your rightful places,” he’s all but collapsed in the chair. “Where you belong,” he coughed and gasped.

“We belong where we have been for ten years. Pentos is our home, and that of our children, and that is where we shall return,” he rolled his eyes at his brother. “You won’t have to suffer my presence long, Your Grace.”

“Do not mock me! You left! I have been alone— forced to navigate that pit of vultures by my lonesome. All while you two live happily ever after,” he all but cried. “Rhaenys, you two. You have abandoned me! Betrayed me! Where is your fucking loyalty?! And now, even as I allow you back home, you spite me.”

Daemon would hear no more of this, Rhaenyra’s pulling palm all but lost to him as he stares at his brother. “It is you who has betrayed us! You exiled me, upon the threat of death. Death, Viserys. Your own brother. Damn right I left, what other option did I have? All I have ever wanted was to be loyal to you, to be your Hand! But you have never wanted my loyalty, just my subjugation.” He rolls his eyes. “What would father say?”

“Do not speak to me of father! You committed treason! What was I to do lest I look weak in front of the whole of the Seven Kingdoms. You sullied my only child!”

The look Alicent sends him is one of betrayal, what were the four children she’d birthed him? Chopped liver? “The heir to the Iron Throne, the future of our House. She was meant to be something , and you stifled her ambitions for the sake of your own, you selfish cunt,” he spit, his indigo eyes damn near black. “Every breath you take you is because I allow it!”

”She already was someone to me! She is everything to me and you sold her to make up for your own shortcomings with the Velaryons and I wouldn’t have it. She deserved more, she has more,” he seethed, his vein throbbing through the thin skin of his neck.

“My wife is happy, she is loved and adored. By me and our children alike. What more could you want for your daughter but happiness? Belonging? I alone have given her that!”

Viserys turns to his daughter, a pained expression on his face, as if already dreading the answer to a question he hadn’t asked yet. “And are you? Happy? With him?”

Daemon scoffs, rolling his eyes at his weak fuck of an elder brother, “She’s happy enough for me to put five babes in her belly. And still ask for more,” he said with as much pride as he had ever had and watched the King and Queen grimace at his crude comments. “Unless you two aren’t very happy. Four children, was it? Not a happy home, huh?”

“Watch your vile tongue before I take it, Daemon!”

“You would do no such thing,” Rhaenyra spit. She wouldn’t suffer threats to Daemon— she didn’t care who it was spewing them or why. “If all we will be met with is hostility, Daemon and I shall take our children and return home.” Her lips were pulled into a thin line. “He is my husband and the father of my children, any disrespect directed towards him is disrespect I take personally.”

“How many times must I say that isn’t your home?! I demand you return to your true home, by my side, Rhaenyra.” His eyes were pleading with her but she didn’t see it, too concerned with Daemon’s reaction to what the King had proposed. “I deserve to know my grandsons. T-the one with mother’s eyes… he’s…,” he doesn’t finish his sentence, just leans back in his seat and closes his eyes. “I wish to know them. Before I am gone from this world,” to which Daemon snaps, shocking all in the room.

“Don’t stay that, what the fuck is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind? You must have to utter such nonsense,” he gives his brother a thorough once over, without the taint of unbridled resentment, truly looking at his condition. He looks awful, his hair falling out and his skin a sickly gray… gods have mercy. He was right. “We will… hire you some healers from Pentos…,” Daemon was already filtering through healers he trusted from the mainland. “But we won’t be returning to Westeros, Viserys. There is no place for us there.”

“Then there is no place for you, leave and never return! You ruin all that you touch!” Rhaenyra didn’t understand her father, he could have the most loyal man possible by his side but he insists on alienating him. It was so frustrating.

“You must return to the Seven Kingdoms, Rhaenyra, to take your rightful throne,” he coughs again, his hands reaching for hers. “I am not going to be here much longer, and I cannot leave the Seven Kingdoms to your brother.” He leaned towards his daughter and extended a shaky hand. “Come back to me now, renounce Daemon and all will be forgiven. You will be back by my side, where you should be! Your children would be welcome additions to the Red Keep.”

“What?!” Alicent spoke for the first time, her face as red as Rhaenyra’s ruby necklace. “Still? After all this time you’re still clinging to the idea of your precious daughter by your dear Aemma?!” She’s screaming, no doubt alerting the whole of the castle to the disagreement. “She left you behind, Viserys, to frolic across the Narrow Sea with your younger brother, and still— you ignore my son, the one who was so long awaited by you for her! Why?! What have I done to you, what has Aegon done?!”

“I did not name Rhaenyra my heir on a whim! You and I both know that boy should not have Seven Kingdoms at his disposal, Alicent! He is a drunk,” the King spit, his tone dripping in disgust. “A rapist. No— he will not be my heir ever! Mayhaps had you raised the boy better that would be different but all you do is indulge the boy!” He cast one more look at Alicent before turning back to his daughter.“You are as useless as he is! I should have taken then Velaryon girl to wife,” he mutters.

“Rhaenyra, you know as well as I do, there are more…pressing matters involved— things that matter more than your personal ambitions! What will you tell your ancestors when they ask why our House lost the throne? That you would rather prance about the Free Cities? Drink a-and fuck your way through Pentos when you should be ensuring the survival of our House!”

Tears were streaming down the Queen’s face, her lips trembling and all Daemon could do was laugh, loudly. This was all for nothing. They wouldn’t be returning with Viserys, he didn’t give a fuck how sick he was. He had exiled Daemon, threatened him with decapitation and sought to deny him his birthright that was a pureblooded family.

But he wouldn’t be denied. He had five beautiful children, and his number one job was to protect them. Did that mean raising them in a cesspool of vipers and scorpions? No. It didn’t. So he wouldn’t. Their lives in Pentos were ones of love and happiness and joy and laughter and neither Daemon nor Rhaenyra wanted to change anything about how they lived.

He and Rhaenyra agreed they would raise Visenya and Viserra back at Ivyhall, for it had served them well. He wanted his girls to live freely, not stifled and sold off like lamb to farmers. They would be property of the Crown, not just people, not just his darling girls. Daemon could not have that. How could he look his daughters in their faces and know he’s sold their futures away the same way Viserys had Rhaenyra?

Viserys went on and on about how Daemon wanted his stupid fucking throne. Well he didn’t, he wanted his wife and children to be safe, happy, loved . And that wouldn’t happen in Westeros. It could have, but that would have required Viserys to give a fuck about something other than the fucking Crown.

No, a marriage to Daemon wasn’t that most politically savvy union, that was to Laenor Velaryon, regardless of his sexual orientation— Daemon could have still sired her children, her heirs. But that wasn’t enough.

He wanted to be more than her uncle and her lover in the shadows. He deserved more, he thought. How foolish of him.

“We aren’t coming back to fucking Westeros!” Rhaenyra exclaimed, cutting through the noise and reaching her father’s ears. “You would tear my children from their fathers arms? How could you ever think I would go along with that?!” Over Rhaenyra’s dead fucking body would that ever happen.

“Is that not what he did to me?! He ripped my dear child from my arms, smeared her reputation up and down the known world and laughed in my face! And to this man you give the entirety of your loyalty to— not your father, your King! A whoremongering drunk who has almost killed as many men as whores he’s fucked!”

“How dare you speak like that to me? Mind your tongue! You know not of what you speak,” she closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. “My husband and I decided we would not leave our home, no matter the proposition you laid before our feet and now that you have disrespected my husband and our marriage I do not even feel badly about it!” she tries not to frown as sadness overtakes her father’s features.

“I love my husband and our children more than anything in the world, and I have to do what is best for my sons and daughters. Daemon is a wonderful, dedicated father—,”

But her own father doesn’t care for all the sentimentality anymore, not now that she has turned down his olive branch, “How blind can you be, child?!” He screams at her. “He is using you! He has always been intent on being a plague to this family and you stand by like a fool while he does so! If I was a betting man I would wager he probably has a whore behind your back. Do not think yourself above his first wife, girl. Your uncle is not a faithful man, and you are stupid to believe he is.”

Rhaenyra would hear no more, turning on her heels and leaving the hall. She wanted to hold her daughters, see them.

Kiss her sons and board a ship back home where their peace was safe and guaranteed. Thank the gods the funeral was tomorrow and then they could be gone from the godsforsaken place.

She hates it here— not High Tide specifically but this toxic space where she only matters because of the hue of her eyes and the fairness of her hair.

Not because she is smart, or witty, or a good mother. She’s a means to an end, not a beloved child… a pawn. Weak and susceptible to manipulation.

With Daemon she was a Queen in her own right— powerful and mighty… a goddess. She feels like she can be herself, and be loved that way. She was more than her last name, more than her blood.

She doesn’t get more than fifty yards away from the door before she collapses in a fit of sobs, her husband not far behind her, catching her before she hits the ground.

“How can he say such things about you?!” She sobs, the finesse that is navigating court lost on her after so many years. She cannot even remember the last time she felt true sadness, not like this. “You are his brother, his blood,” she clutches at her husband’s doublet, her red face streaked with salty tears.

“You are a devoted husband and father, the best one I could ever hope for!” Her words are slurred and her accent thick, so much so Daemon can hardly understand his wife. “You are more than I deserve, and he speaks of you in such a way. It makes me fucking sick.”

It makes Daemon hate his brother even more, seeing his wife like this. Rhaenyra should never, ever know unhappiness or strife. She should never cry lest they be tears of joy. And here she is, crying in defense of his honor, something he didn’t even feel he deserved.

“Don’t say that, it isn’t true. And don’t cry, my love. I am unscathed, I assure you. My simpleton brother could never say anything to truly hurt me,” he thumbs at her tears. He isn’t shocked that she's beautiful even like this, a babbling mess of unhappiness, but he wants that smile back on her face, that dazzling one that makes his heart stop when he sees it.

“Knowing I go home to you every night would make even the harshest of criticisms fall by the wayside,” he presses his lips to hers, hopefully distracting her from the previous conversation. “Seeing our children heals all wounds.”

It does the trick and after a few minutes of hushed hugging and a few stolen, salty tears Rhaenyra is relaxed and malleable, just how Daemon likes her. Seeing as their children were being seen after, he pulled his wife to their chambers and intent on letting the whole of the castle know how well he could take care of his sweet girl, not caring about the glum mood that had infected the whole of the castle, or what they would say about his depravity, his lack of tack. He didn’t give a flying fuck.

He would make sure her father heard.

Rhaenyra successfully avoided her father for the rest of her time there, leaving only a single scroll for him before her unseen departure at dawn the day after the funeral.

‘Father,

I will not be returning, not now, not ever. My children may, as they all are bonded to dragons and may fly where they please. I am content with my life, as you always wished for. I hope you find solace in that, as I find it in you having the son you have always wanted.

Embrace him, father, and name Aegon your heir. I think it would do wonders for your relationship as well as your marriage. Embrace him because you must, lest you wish to hand the Crown over to the Velaryons. Impress Valyrian values on him, and he might yet become a dragonrider. Daemon was years older than your son when he did. Have faith.

He is but five and ten, and perfectly capable of reform, if you care. If you put in the effort. Shelter him and do not let his Andal relatives turn him from his blood, his legacy our House will be fine. I look forward to hearing the news of his ascension.

Daemon and I are happy, our lives full of light and joy and our children know nothing of pain or strife. That is how it will stay. My husband has already written ahead to the Prince of Pentos to gather his best healers. Know both Daemon and I love you, always.

Your daughter,

Rhaenyra Targaryen.’

•••

After returning to Pentos, the two lived in bliss as they had before they left for the funeral. Before long, their children were grown and married to each other, with the exception of Aegon, who went on to become a Valyrian High Priest, much to his father’s delight— and surprise.

He’d always though if any of his sons would become men of the cloth it would be Maekar, though now it was clear to his father he loved Visenya too much to take a vow of celibacy.

Maekar wed his sister, Visenya when she was six and ten, and he four and twenty. Daemon wondered if this is what Baelon and Alyssa looked like. According to legend they certainly sounded like them.

The only thing that stopped Daemon from murdering his daughter’s husband was the fact that he was his son. Gods have mercy.

Children came quickly for the two, and before long the two had a total of nine children and not a single multiple. First came Daemion, then Daenaera, Rhaegar, Aemon, Daella, Rhaenys, Aerion, Naerys, and lastly Daena.

Viserys and Viserra also married, mainly out of obligation— not pure desire like their siblings. That wasn’t to say they didn’t love each other, or their seven children: Gael, Maekar, Aelyx, Rhaenyra, Gaemon, Elaena, and Baelon. They did. They were close, too, they just had interests other than married life and having children. Having their parents around to help raise the children was a godsends.

Children of both unions married their siblings, with the exception of Daena and Baelon, cousins who married, and all rode dragons, whether they be cradle born or hatched dragons from Syrax’s clutches that grew independently from a rider.

By the time of Daemon and Rhaenyra’s deaths, they had six and thirty great-grandchildren.

After ten generations they had over 7,000 descendants that carried the Targaryen name proudly, and one great-granddaughter, nine times over, named Rhaella answered the call of Westeros when they were plagued with the scourge of white walkers.

She promptly took the Iron Throne back from the Lannister Baratheon King and restored the Targaryen Empire, with the help of her husband and brother, Daeron, as well as her other siblings and cousins.

She ruled as Queen until her death, when she was two and eighty. She was succeeded by her son, King Baelon I, and his daughter after him.

In the end, Rhaenyra’s blood sat the Iron Throne as it was always supposed to.

Se mōris.

Tag List: @snowprincesa1 (try not to be too lonely LMAO)

[lady-corrine]

Hello!

I just wanna say I love seeing all your love posts to Rhaenyra. Because she deserves them all. Rhaenyra is a beautiful character because she is a girl who likes being a girl. Is she stubborn and prideful? Yes, but it doesn't matter. She has every right to be, moreover, she should be. She doesn't have to apologize for the fact that she exists. She has every right to be proud of herself and what she has done. Another thing I love about her character is that she is very feminine and in a powerful position. She relishes having someone protect and care for her, she wants to dress pretty and be a good mother. All of this, and being in the position of someone usually very masculine. She defies what is expected, and Rhaenyra rallies love and admiration from her people and family. For being a bright person who is good at her duty.

I am sad that they changed her in the show for these reasons. Don't get me wrong I love her still, but I would love to see Book Rhaenyra in the show. In the show, she is more masculine, wanting instead die in battle than birth children. Book Rhaenyra did not want to die a knight's death in battle. It is sad the show made her into a tomboy-ish character, instead of having her be a feminine girl who wheeled power well. Who didn't see a need to change herself just because she was going to be Queen. Who stood her ground and people loved her still. I am very passionate about Rhaenyra.

Love your posts about Rhaenyra and Daemyra.

Hello, @tinemilk! God, I am so, so sorry for the late reply! Only these days I finished with my exams!

Thank you so much for your kind words! I am glad to know you love Rhaenyra as much as I do! I must say, seeing all the vile hate she received and continues to receive is genuinely jarring to me. Other than Dany, Rhaenyra is the most hated Targaryen in my opinion.

Rhaenyra... God, where do I even begin? She makes me so sad. The way this fandom perceives her, the fact that she is not allowed to be loved and cherished, the fact that every single rumour about her - which absolutely screams misoginy - is not questioned even once by these people. Seeing Eustace and Mushroom's obsessions with her virginity/sexual life as something normal? Body shaming her?

Denying her amazing accomplishments - her being the youngest dragonrider in Targaryen history, being bright and precocious, to prop up irrelevant side characters? Denying her popularity, the love the realm had for her, how much Viserys and Daemon adored her... And all to idolize unimportant characters with two lines max. 😐

Of course she had every right to be proud! She was treasured by her parents, her uncle, her grandfather, the darling of the entire court, known as the youngest dragonrider - why wouldn't she be? Qualities like stubborness and pride are admired in male characters but hated in female ones. Why is that I wonder? 🤨

That is why I said that I am no "team black", only team Rhaenyra. Because self-proclaimed team black move extremely nasty when it comes to Rhaenyra and everything connected to her - from her relationship with Daemon to her children (we know who those people are, but let me not name them).

All in all, I find the attitude towards her character to be baffling at best and deranged at worst.

But I am glad to know you appreciate my posts and my takes on her character. And thank you so much for your message once again! I hope you have a great day! 🤗

[nyaerys]

I love how TG stans are like "Rhaenyra never cared about her half siblings!! :( and was acting like a spoiled brat!!!"

Like??? okay? and? I would hate my half siblings if they had a chance to ruin my post as heir, for whom my father named me as and if I hated my stepmother too????

as for ep 3, again, I just know Nyra never had a big 2nd name day bc she wasn't the male heir her society got all up and arms about. Alicent had no right to pull "I'm the queen" card when 1. she has only been queen for 2/3 years while Rhae has actually been a princess since she was very young and 2. Rhaenyra clearly wasn't about to deal with people who hate her as heir due to her being female talk about how amazing my 2 YEAR OLD half brother is and how he is the better heir simply bc he's a boy.

PREACHHHHHH FROM THE MOUNTAIN TOPSSSS.

“It wouldn’t matter if she was Jaehaerys himself born again. Rhaenyra is a woman.”

The youngest dragonrider in her house history and your telling me she should just suck it up that this boy who has done nothing is “His Grace” and a “dragon Prince” ???

Alicent wanted that power and she wielded it from day one. It went from dismissing singers to demands newborns.

Fuck Alicent and all the pieces of shit that came out her worthless cunt.

[dragonsfromthemoon]

Hi Ashter! It’s really good to hear from you again! Thank you for your answer to my last ask! I agree that as long as Dany and Jon and also Arya survive and have peaceful lives when it’s all over, then I will be perfectly happy even if Bran becomes King of Westeros (which I am still iffy about how that could work). Even though the best ending in my opinion is Jon and Dany becoming King and Queen with Arya as their Warden of the North. But I want to ask you something about Rhaenyra. I imagine you’re just like me, Team Black. Do you think Rhaenyra, if it wasn’t for the power hungry Greens usurping her and killing her children, do you think she would have been a good Queen? I’m sure Rhaenyra had her flaws but she was a loving mother and she did seem like she took her duty as heir seriously and wanted to be a good Queen for the people.

Hello!

I'm sure Rhaenyra you have been a good queen.

First, she was described as a precocious child. That could only mean ever since she was young, she was quite perceptive and a quick learner.

She was bold, brave and witty. Proof of that? She remains the youngest dragonrider in Targaryen history, taking Syrax to the skies when she was only 7 years-old. This is impressive, because dragons are not pets. They are smart and temperamental creatures. Taming them is no easy feat, especially in such young age.

Rhaenyra was charismatic and charming. In her childhood, she was dubbed the Realm's Delight. She had her own party of supporters. Later on, already at war, men flocked to her cause, remembering “Viserys's little girl”. Men came to die for the Dragon Queen. So, you see, Rhaenyra, as charming as she was, inspired the good-will of the lords and their loyalty.

Rhaenyra had been her father's heir ever since she was 8 years-old, serving as cupbearer and sitting on the foot of the Iron Throne. Later on, when she became of age, she took possession of Dragonstone and ruled there. We have no reports of her being a bad or cruel or unfair ruler. There is no complait about her aptitude. Her father even considered to make her his Hand (a pity he didn't, truly).

Yes, she did have her flaws. However, I have no reason to believe she would not have been a good queen in more favorable circumstances. We have to remember the Rhaenyra we see during the Dance is grief-stricken, afraid and lonely. The war was devastating for her, as she lost too much.

[west1rosi]

THE CROWNLANDS AND THE ROYALS: HOUSE TARG.ARYEN (AND ADJECENT).

the  targary.ens  are  the  ruling  house  of  westeros  in  the  seven  kingdoms.  with  their  seat  in  king's  landing  and  dragonstone,  they  are  known  for  their  violet  eyes,  striking  silver  hair  and  are  known  through  the  realm  for  their  dragons,  to  the  point  some  of  them  are  thought  to  be  fireproof.  some  targa.ryens  are  known  to  have  profetic  dreams  of  what's  to  come  though  the  dreams  are  often  mislead  by  their  own  ambitions.

DANCE OF THE DRA.GONS

daemon  targ.aryen:  younger  brother  of  viser.ys  i,  daemon  is  a  knight  and  a  master  strategist.  a  dragonrider,  he  is  bonded  to  caraxes  and  is  known  to  be  as  impulsive  as  he  is  a  strategist.  he  carries  a  valyrian  sword,  dark  sister.  he  eventually  moves  to  marry  laen.a  valeryon  which  who  he  has  two  daughters  and  then  rhaenyra  tar.garyen.

viserys  i  targar.yen:  known  in  history  as  the  peaceful,  viserys  was  the  father  of  rhaenyra  and  his  children  with  alicent  hight.ower:  aegon,  aemond  and  haelena.  he  broke  protocol  to  put  rhaenyra  as  his  heir  to  the  throne,  however,  due  to  his  growing  illness  and  loose  mind,  he  starts  to  loose  power  in  his  own  court.  he  was  a  dragonrider,  however,  his  dragon  has  died  and  has  never  taken  another.

daena  water.s:  jahaerys  i  targa.ryen's  bastard  daughter,  daena  is  a  lady  in  waiting  to  rhaenyra  when  she  was  a  princess  and  eventually  follow  to  dragonstone.  being  dragonseed  herself,  daen.a  eventually  is  able  to  bond  and  become  a  dragonrider.

rhaena  targary.en:  daemon's  youngest  daughter  by  his  second  marriage  with  lae.na.  rhaena  becomes  a  dragonrider  later  in  life,  however,  the  first  attempts  to  be  able  to  bond  with  a  dragon  egg  had  failed.  she  eventually  bonds  with  morning.

marilda  of  hul.l:    also  known  as  mouse,  a  trader  and  captain  from  hull,  she  was  the  mother  of  addam  valary.on  and  alyn  valary.on.  while  her  children  were  suspected  to  be  laenor's,  some  claim  it  was  corlys  valaryon  who  fathered  her  children.  they  were  legitimitized  by  queen  rhaenyra.

A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE.

viserys  iii  targaryen:  second  son  and  exiled  heir.  after  the  death  of  his  brother,  viserys  is  across  the  sea  gathering  forces  to  reclaim  his  family's  throne.  while  burned  by  the  dothrak.i,  viser.ys  survives,  however,  refuses  to  speak  and  is  simply  an  observant.

OTHERS.

caraxes:  daemons'  dragon. morning  :  rhaena's  dragon.  in  most  threads,  morning  has  not  yet  hatched.

[ronni-right]

DAEMYRA FIC IDEAS

DAY 26

Aliens AU

Daemon is too late to return to Westeros when he receives the signal from his brother telling him that their planet will be destroyed in a few seconds, asking him to find Rhaenyra on a planet called … but the signal is lost and his planet is destroyed, his family is all dead, only his niece is alive.

It takes him years to find her on the Planet C-53, Earth. And she doesn’t remember who she is.

But she is alive. It all what matters. For now.

DAY 27

Hotel AU

Targaryen Hotels & Resorts is a global brand of full-service hotels and resorts and the flagship brand of American multinational hospitality company Targaryen.

Rhanyera Targaryen is a heiress to it all, but she is rebellious, she skips her university classes and sneaks to parties. Her father, current owner of the Company, tired of her antics, makes an ultimatum: she will work at a New York hotel to learn everything about managing hotels or her distant cousin Daemon will inherent everything.

Rhaenyra doesn’t like both perspectives, but after some persuading from her mother, she agrees to work at a hotel. It’s annoying.

But what is more annoying, Daemon is the head of the hotel she will work at.

DAY 28

HOTD AU

Daemon was the first-born child of King Viserys I Targaryen and Queen Aemma of House Arryn. He was born in 90 AC during the reign of his great grandfather, King Jaehaerys I Targaryen. Daemon was the most experienced warrior of his time and wielded the Valyrian steel blade Dark Sister. Daemon was a dragonrider whose mount was Caraxes.

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, cheered as the Realm’s Delight, was the second-born child of King Viserys I Targaryen and Queen Aemma of House Arryn. She was born in 97 AC. Rhaenyra was a dragonrider whose mount was Syrax.

The King Viserys had strained relationships with Daemon as the Prince grew as they were opposite to each other. It wasn’t a secret he favored his daughter. But the Prince and the King doted on the young Princess. 

At a young age, Rhaenyra became enamored with her brother, Prince Daemon Targaryen. The roguish prince often brought her exotic gifts from his trips across the narrow sea. They grew pretty close. And Viserys was worried about the growing feelings between his children even though the marriage between Daemon and Rhaenyra was expected by the court and by the people of Westeros. 

When the question of betrothal came, discord in the house of the Dragon has become stronger than ever.

DAY 29

Gods AU

Daemon as Ares, Rhaenyra as Aphrodite.

Aphrodite and Ares, the god of war fell madly in love when he met the goddess of beauty. Unlike what he did with his other lovers, he decided to win her over. He bought her gifts and complimented her constantly to gain her love. The two spent a lot of time together until Aphrodite fully reciprocated.

DAY 30

Spies AU

Daemon is double 00 agent, Rhaenyra is Q, the youngest Quartermaster in history of MI6, and his handler.

DAY 31

Lawyer and prosecutor AU

Daemon and Rhaenyra are different, him being a lawyer and her being a prosecutor. They have different mindsets and beliefs, they fight at court, but all that does not really matter in the privacy of his or her bedroom.

[astradrifting]

GRRM really created so many parallels and foreshadow using the DoD characters that honestly we could just figure the asoiaf ending by analyzing it. My favorite is the Aegon III-D@ny parallels, the fact that one of his closest allies was a face-scarred Master of coin Lannister who ended as Hand to Bran' parallel character just make it so obvious its funny.

Oh my god I didn’t even realise Tyland Lannister was initially on the greens’ side! I’m not super fond of Tyrion ending up as Hand, but you’re right that it’s so obviously meant to reference him. There’s so many parallels that it’s a little crazy. I don’t want to say that the second Dance will end exactly as the first did, it’d be a little too neat if history repeated entirely, but you can see so many echoes of it even in the show’s bastardised ending.

“The broken, shattered realm suffered for a while yet, but the Dance of the Dragons was done. Now what awaited the realm was the False Dawn, the Hour of the Wolf, the rule of the regents, and the Broken King.”

(TWOIAF, Aegon II)

I’m not sure what the False Dawn is going to parallel to, it refers to the period of time after Aegon II’s death but before Lord Stark got to King’s Landing, when people thought that peace had finally come. It kind of brings to mind the War for the Dawn, though personally I think that the threat of the Others will be resolved before the Dance is over. The Hour of the Wolf is obviously about House Stark’s rise back to power, and the Broken King is Bran - though if he actually becomes known as Bran the Broken I might end up committing violence ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. 

The parts about Lord Corlys Velaryon are why I’m so hopeful that Jon’s book ending will be completely different from the show’s. He’s arrested for Aegon II’s death by Cregan Stark, even though Cregan had previously declared for Rhaenyra, because as TWOIAF puts it, “to kill a cruel and unjust king in lawful battle was one thing. But foul murder, and the use of poison, was a betrayal against the very gods who had anointed him.”

Corlys didn’t deny his guilt, and expressed no regret. “What I did, I did for the good of the realm. I would do the same again. The madness had to end.”

Cregan Stark declared him to be guilty of murder, regicide, and high treason, and he was sentenced to execution. But many spoke in his defence, even people who had fought against him in the Dance. Baela and Rhaena Targaryen, Corlys’ granddaughters and Aegon III’s half-sisters, convinced Aegon to issue an edict pardoning Lord Velaryon, which Alysanne Blackwood then convinced Cregan to let stand. Lord Velaryon was pardoned and even restored to his offices and honours, made one of the king’s regents and given a place on the small council.

Corlys’ words definitely could be Jon’s as well, a much more in-character declaration post-D@ny’s death than the drivel GoT tried to feed us. I was worried for a bit that this would be how Tyrion is let off scot-free, but Baela and Rhaena, who were vital to his release, are such obvious Arya and Sansa stand-ins, and they’re certainly not going to expend any effort in helping Tyrion. So Corlys’ circumstances more likely lays the groundwork for how Jon will be freed and remain in political power, while Tyland frankly inexplicably becoming Aegon III’s Hand after he was in favour of brutally killing him parallels Tyrion managing to fail up, as a way of reconciling the old regime with the new one.

This makes Tyrion becoming Hand more palatable IMO. Either Jon and Tyrion both should have been punished or neither should have been punished, not the travesty where Tyrion gets everything he’s ever wanted while Jon is exiled to a Watch with no purpose and a Wall that’s already half-collapsed, so what exactly can it protect against? I suppose they were afraid of seemingly rewarding Jon for killing d@ny, especially if pol!Jon had been revealed, but most people noticed how nonsensical his ending was, and it just led to ‘Bloodraven/Bran is the real villain’ takes anyway.

(Side note: Asha/Yara basically still being loyal to D at the end annoys me so much, and made no sense. Jon did more to help save her by giving Theon that pep talk than D@ny did. Maybe it was a leftover from her taking Victarion’s role in the story, but in no reasonable world is anyone going to listen to the Ironborn who brought the Fire threat over in the first place.)

Of course Tyland Lannister isn’t actually Hand for long, given that he dies barely two years later from Winter Fever, feared and hated, alone except for a maester and King Aegon. It might be an indication that Tyrion will face a similar fate, that he’ll die after he’s seemingly won, exactly what he threatened Cersei with:

“A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll know the debt is paid."

(ACOK, Tyrion XII)

So that I can stop talking about Tyrion, here’s some facts about Rhaena and Baela that are obviously meant to reference Sansa and Arya, so much so that it feels a little bit like GRRM is winking and going “See what I did there? Huh? Huh? Did you see??”:

- their descriptions: “Rhaena was slender and graceful; Baela was lean and quick; Rhaena loved to dance; Baela lived to ride...” + “Baela was wild and willful”, “more boyish than ladylike”, and kept her hair cropped short as a boy’s

- Rhaena spent most of the Dance in the Vale, where she lived in relative comfort as the ward of Lady Jeyne Arryn. Baela was a dragonrider and so moved between Dragonstone and Driftmark, but was captured on Dragonstone when Aegon II descended upon it

- Rhaena was favoured to be queen after her brother, considered more qualified than her wild sister

- Baela liked to spend time with “unsuitable companions” she would bring to the Red Keep - including a comely juggler, a blacksmith’s apprentice whose muscles she admired (!!!), a legless beggar, a pair of twin girls from a brothel, an entire troupe of mummers once

- After her brother’s regents tried to marry her to a lord 40 years older than her, Baela escaped the Red Keep by climbing out of a window, trading clothes with a washerwoman, then walking right out of the front gate. She ran away to Driftmark and married her supposed cousin (though more likely he was her half-uncle), the legitimised bastard Alyn Velaryon, which might have had me worried about j0nrya if Alyn weren’t best known for being a daring sailor who went on many voyages, including sailing the Sunset Sea, until he was finally lost at sea during Aegon IV’s reign. Alyn’s mother was also called Mouse, for being “small, quick, and always underfoot.”

- another fun fact about Alyn: he’s a bad haggler, and had to agree to a high ransom and many concessions in order to get Prince Viserys returned to Westeros. This automatically disqualifies him as a Jon stand-in, because as we all know, Jon Snow can haggle like the best of fishwives.

- My absolutely favourite detail that has my jonsa heart singing - Rhaena was more dutiful than her sister and would have married a man that the king and council chose, saying that as long as he was “kind and gentle and noble, I know that I shall love him.” She was able to marry her first choice, whom the regents didn’t immediately approve of but that they ultimately accepted  - Ser Corwyn Corbray, the brother of the Lord Protector of the Realm, a second son (!) whose late father had gifted him the Valyrian steel sword Lady Forlorn (!!!)

And as a treat for @istumpysk, some similarities between Rickon and Viserys II!

- the youngest child of their family

- separated from their older brother after they were forced to flee their home, trying to get to safety while their other brothers and mother were at war

- worshipped their oldest (half-)brothers, but were closer to the brother nearest their age

- spends the war stuck on an island, populated by people closely linked to their family’s origins - Skagosi are descended mostly from the First Men, while Viserys was on Lys, where the blood of Old Valyria still runs strong

- sought by/held hostage by a powerful and wealthy family, who will treat them well but whose intentions are dubious

- will be brought back from exile by an upjumped bastard/commoner from a port town who was raised to lordship and became their monarch’s chief admiral

- after they are returned, long after the wars and crises, is happily welcomed as the heir to their older brother’s throne (shhhhh just let me have this, let the baby live)

Thanks for the ask!

[movie-magic]

Everything to know about the ‘Game of Thrones’ prequel ‘House of the Dragon’

Will fan disappointment over the final season of “Game of Thrones” subsided enough by 2022 that the world will be ready to return to Westeros? HBO is banking on that outcome. The cable network has a “Game of Thrones” prequel series called “House of the Dragon” in production now.

“House of the Dragon” will expand the world of the megahit fantasy series, telling a story about the golden-haired, dragon-riding royals of House Targaryen – the family that produced Daenerys Targaryen (Emilia Clarke) and Jon Snow (Kit Harington) – centuries before the events of “Game of Thrones.” It’s based on “Fire & Blood,” a novel by George R.R. Martin that was written as a companion to his “A Song of Ice and Fire” series. The first season will be 10 episodes long. It’s the first project to make it to series out of a number of “Game of Thrones” spin-offs HBO has in development. Back in 2019, HBO actually shot a pilot for a “Game of Thrones” prequel set to star Naomi Watts. But the network decided not to move forward with that one. The day the series was scrapped, “House of the Dragon” was announced.

When does ‘House of the Dragon’ premiere?

“House of the Dragon” will start airing on HBO and streaming on HBO Max in 2022. No specific premiere date has been set yet. The show recently began production in Cornwall, England, according to Watchers on the Wall, and will also film in London, Spain, and California, per Productionlist.

Who’s in the ‘House of the Dragon’ cast?

The prequel has a strong cast with a higher number of recognizable names than “Game of Thrones” had in Season 1. HBO has announced much of the show’s main cast already.

Paddy Considine – who’s most recently known for “The Outsider” but to us will always be the dad from Jim Sheridan’s “In America” – will play King Viserys Targaryen, a good man whose decency makes him perhaps ill-suited for the task of ruling Westeros. He was chosen by the Great Council of the lords of Westeros to be the king after his grandfather Jaeharys Targaryn died.

“Sound of Metal” star Olivia Cooke plays Alicent Hightower, the beautiful, politically adept, and ambitious daughter of Otto Hightower (“Notting Hill” actor Rhys Ifans), the Hand of the King.

Emma D’arcy (Amazon’s short-lived horror-comedy “Truth Seekers”) plays Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. Rhaenyra is the king’s first born, but she’s not a man, so the Iron Throne is not her birthright — even though she has pure Valyrian blood and is a dragonrider.

“The Crown” and “Doctor Who” star Matt Smith will play Prince Daemon Targaryen, King Viserys’ younger brother and the heir to the throne. He’s a dragonrider and a brave warrior, but he’s unstable and has a cruel streak a mile wide. Otto Hightower really, really doesn’t want him to be next in line.

“Doctor Who” actor Steve Toussaint is Lord Corlys Velaryon, also known as “the Sea Snake.” He’s leader of House Velaryon, a rival house to House Targaryen, and the greatest seaman in the history of Westeros. He’s married to Princess Rhaenys Velaryon (“Nurse Jackie” co-star Eve Best), a Targaryen dragonrider who was passed over by the Great Council for the monarchy in favor of her cousin Viserys because he’s a man and she isn’t.

“Ex Machina” actress Sonoya Mizuno plays Mysaria, a former slave who has worked her way up to becoming Prince Daemon’s most trusted advisor.  

And “The Serpent” star Fabien Frankel will play Ser Criston Cole, a common-born Dornish swordsman (remember Dorne? That’s where Oberyn Martell [Pedro Pascal] was from). He’s climbing his way up in the Westerosi social order thanks to his skill with the blade. Later, he’s known as “Criston the Kingmaker” after he plays a pivotal role in one of the story’s most important moments, according to Inverse.

Who’s working behind the scenes?

“House of the Dragon” is co-created by “A Song of Ice and Fire” and “Blood & Fire” author George R.R. Martin and Ryan Condal, previously best known for creating the sci-fi series “Colony.”

Condal and Miguel Sapochnik – director of some of “Game of Thrones’” biggest episodes, including “Hardhome,” “The Battle of the Bastards,” and “The Long Night” – will be co-showrunners. Along with Martin, Condal, and Sapochnik, executive producers include Vince Gerardis, Ron Schmidt, and writer Sara Lee Hess.

Sapochnik will direct the pilot and additional episodes. Other directors include Clare Kilner, Geeta V. Patel, and Greg Yaitanes, the latter of whom also gets a co-executive producer credit. According to Insider, the show’s writing staff reportedly includes “Colony” writer Wes Tooke, “Watchmen” writer Claire Kiechel, and Ti Mikkel, who has worked as Martin’s writer’s assistant.

“Game of Thrones” and “Westworld” composer Ramin Djawadi will provide the score.

What will ‘House of the Dragon’ be about?

“House of the Dragon” is set 300 years before the events of “Game of Thrones” and “tells the story of House Targaryen,” according to HBO’s simple plot description. More specifically, it’s about a period of internal strife in House Targaryen that set the table for the house’s decline, which was complete by the time of “Game of Thrones.”

“Fire & Blood” is a faux-history book covering the reigns of many Targaryen monarchs, and “House of the Dragon” seems to be adapting only one section, which is about the reign of King Viserys I and the Targaryen civil war called the “Dance of Dragons.” At the start of the story, Viserys has no male heir, so the Targaryen next in line for the Iron Throne is his brother Daemon, who has inherited the infamous Targaryen madness (“It is said that whenever a Targaryen is born, the gods toss a coin in the air…”). Viserys doesn’t want Daemon to be king, he wants his daughter, Rhaenyra. When Viserys officially names her as his successor, it leads to infighting and backstabbing that over the course of years develops into the “Dance of Dragons,” where Rhaenyra fights her half-brother Aegon II – Viserys’ son with his second wife, Alicent Hightower – for the throne. But that comes later, and Aegon hasn’t been cast yet. Season 1 will likely be a lot of setting up of the larger conflict to come, like Season 1 of “Thrones” was.

Will there be dragons in the ‘House of the Dragon’?

You know it! In fact, there will probably be even more dragons than there were on “Game of Thrones,” because dragons had not yet gone extinct and all the great Targaryens had a fire-breather of their own.

On the show, there will likely be at least four: Daemon’s Caraxes, known as “the Blood Wyrm” for his red color and fearsomeness; Rhaenyra’s Syrax; Rhaenys’ Meleys, one of the fastest dragons in Westeros; and Aegon’s golden dragon Sunfyre. And there will probably be more as the series goes on and the Dance of Dragons begins.

HBO released some dragon concept art last year. The “House of the Dragon” dragons seem like they’ll look a little different than their “Game of Thrones” counterparts – a little sleeker and more colorful, if this concept art holds true.

Will Travis Fimmel be in the ‘House of the Dragon’?

Fans of “Vikings” were ecstatic last year when a rumor emerged that Travis Fimmel – best known for his role as Norse hero Ragnar Lothbrok on History and Amazon’s beloved historical drama – was being considered for the role of Daemon Targaryen. However, that rumor didn’t pan out, as Matt Smith is playing Daemon. Travis Fimmel is currently on another HBO Max show, the weird sci-fi series “Raised by Wolves.”

Who will play Daemon Targaryen in the ‘House of the Dragon’?

Daemon Targaryen, a fan-favorite character from “Fire & Blood” due to his swaggering, swashbuckling time spent away from King’s Landing forging his own destiny after being denied by his brother Viserys, will be played by Matt Smith, an actor already well-known to audiences for his roles in two British institutions.

Smith played the Eleventh Doctor on the long-running science fiction series “Doctor Who” from 2010 to 2013. He’s the youngest Doctor ever. He’s also known for playing Prince Philip in the first two seasons of “The Crown.”

As the Doctor, he was famous for his swoopy brown hair, so it’s quite striking to see him with his blond Targaryen wig.

How did Daemon Targaryen die?

Spoiler warning! In “Fire & Blood,” Daemon met his end during a dragon battle at Harrenhal, a castle that appeared many times on “Game of Thrones,” including the time Jaime Lannister (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau) saved Brienne of Tarth (Gwendoline Christie) from the bear pit.

During the Dance of Dragons, Daemon flew to Harrenhal on Caraxes, and waited for his nephew Aemond, Viserys and Alicent’s second son, to come fight him. Aemond showed up with his tremendously powerful dragon Vhagar, and they had a spectacular aerial fight that ended with the deaths of all four participants when the dragons plummeted from the sky into the Gods Eye lake. No one could have survived a crash of such speed and force, but Daemon’s body was never recovered, so there are stories that he survived and went to live out his days in peace elsewhere.

Some version of this fight will probably happen on “House of the Dragon,” but not until late in the show.

- Gold Derby 

[poorshadowspaintedqueens]

How does the patricharcy factor into female dragon riders? Like if an older Shireen hatched a dragon prior to asoiaf happening would that dragon belong to her husband when they married? Would the dragon belong to Robert whilst he was alive and king? Or is it just seen as her and gives her more automany? Or would she not be allowed to marry because that means house Baratheon looses a dragon

I'm not really going to address the specifics, but I will try to answer the opening question: How does patriarchy factor into female dragon riders?

Well! Some years ago, I argued in a book chapter that "dragons are a gender equalizer," but that assertion was based on 'The Princess and the Queen' and The World of Ice and Fire, neither of which offer much detail on this topic.

Rather frustratingly, Fire & Blood is also cagey about this, no doubt for reasons related to Daenerys' plotline in the main series. But based on what we get in F&B, with one or two exceptions, being a dragonrider does not--alas--seem to get one very far in pushing against Westeros' patriarchal norms.

When Aegon and his sisters conquer Westeros, female dragonriders outnumber male ones. Both Visenya and Rhaenys inspire just as much awe and terror as Aegon, and while I'm sure they dealt with plenty of sexist microaggressions, nobody was going to argue with either of them because, well, dragons. Except, of course, for Meria Martell.

Now, one could imagine a scenario where Aegon and Balerion died in Dorne instead of Rhaenys and Meraxes. Would the combined power of Visenya, Rhaenys, and their dragons be enough to control the nascent Seven Kingdoms and establish the Targaryen matriarchy? I don't know, but now I kinda want to read that fic.

A lot also seems to depend on the size/power of the dragon. Princess Rhaena had a dragon (Dreamfyre) but she was still forced into marriage with Maegor the Cruel. Could she have fought back? Not really, not on her own--her late husband Aegon the Uncrowned had just died fighting Maegor on dragonback, so Rhaena was clearly making the least worst choice here. But the first chance she had, she took her daughter (the other having been sent to Oldtown, and therefore out of Maegor's immediate custody), stole the sword Blackfyre, and escaped on her dragon to join Jaehaerys in rebellion.

Being a dragonrider didn't help Rhaenys the Queen Who Never Was in her campaign to inherit the throne. I know I'm not the only one who thinks there was a conspiracy between the powerful lords of the Seven Kingdoms to nudge the Targaryens further away from the use of dragon power (the dracocracy, I believe, is the technical term, per @racefortheironthrone). It makes a lot of sense. Viserys I had the symbolic value of having been the last rider of Balerion the Black Dread, but Balerion the actual dragon was dead and therefore no longer a threat. If the Great Council of 101 had chosen Rhaenys, the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms would have had Meleys the Red Queen at her command, and would likely not have listened to Otto Hightower. (Yes, I think he was one of the major players in aforementioned conspiracy of lords.)

Sidenote: I think House of the Dragon has, thus far, done a good job of showing how not being a dragonrider makes Viserys significantly more reluctant to use the dragons, even in situations where they would be very effective. And I think Rhaenyra in the show is keenly aware that one of the few ways she has to truly command the attention of the men in the room is to threaten them with fiery annihilation.

Nor did being a dragonrider--the youngest in Targaryen history!--help Rhaenyra Targaryen press her claim to the throne. In her case, the competition also had a dragon, and there were lots of other dragons around. It took both Sunfyre and Vhagar to take down Rhaenys at Rook's Rest, and Rhaenyra was unable to ride into battle during the early crucial stages of the Dance because of injuries sustained during a traumatic stillbirth. It says a lot, I think, that even in the later accounts, somehow this is Rhaenyra's own fault.

On the flip side, you see figures like Alysanne, who never rode into battle, but who used her dragon Silverwing as an incredibly effective diplomatic resource. It's not clear from F&B, but it seems as though she and Jaehaerys also used their elder sister Rhaena and Dreamfyre for similar purposes. I have no doubt all their children who rode dragons did much the same during the peaceful years of Jaehaerys' reign. I've written elsewhere about how the transport capability of a dragon must have impacted the Targaryens' ability to handle conflict within their territories. We've seen in the main series how long it takes for people to travel across Westeros. A dragon could make that journey in days, not week or months, and the only thing that would slow it down is its rider.

This is all to say that I don't think that being a dragonrider makes much of an impact within the conservative, patriarchal system of Westeros. At least not based on the sources currently available. As ever, I need to point out that F&B is not a reliable narrative. And that if one believes--as I do--that there was a conspiracy to bring down the Targaryen dracocracy, the Citadel was definitely involved, and Gyldayn's narration would reflect that. Am I overthinking this? Perhaps.

I am really hoping that House of the Dragon gives us some more scenes of dragon diplomacy before it all turns into dragon murder.

[sweetestpopcorn]

Only Helaena is allowed empathy for the death of her child, she is not judged at all that she did not rode Dreamfyre even once during the war, we must be sympathetic to her because she mentally collapsed.

Only Laena is allowed empathy for her stillborn child, only Alicent is allowed empathy for the loss of her children even though she literally planned to kill a young boy, Aegon the Younger. Only Corlys is allowed empathy for Rhaenys' death, only Nettles is allowed empathy for being an orphan and admiration for bonding with Sheepstealer, even though Rhaenyra was a tiny little girl of 7 when she flew for the first time, which is extraordinary.

But no. Everyone except Rhaenyra is allowed to allow grief and fear to color their decisions. She’s never allowed to be sad about losing her loved ones or be afraid for her family because she committed the crime of wanting to fight for something she was told was hers. Rhaenyra does not deserve our admiration for being the youngest dragonrider in recent Targaryen history, absolutely not! Our admiration must exclusively go to Laena and Nettles, because didn't you know Rhaenyra is a whore?

We must not mourn for her baby girl Visenya, because didn't you heard that baby was a monster? How could you believe she was loved by her parents?

That's how this fandom sounds and it's... definetly a choice in this pattern. Rhaenyra is dehumanized in happiness and dehumanized in grief. She is not allowed to feel or be human or feel furious for how everything is taken from her. Her simple existence, for these people, is worthy of hatred and only hatred.

Literally every so often this person comes to my comment section to lecture us all peasants and how wrong Team Black was... funny enough by Team Black they only mean Rhaenyra. They are bothered by having illegitimate children and affairs... if you are Rhaenyra, for Corlys, Daemon, and Aegon II it was totally fine in case you are wondering. They talk about bad and rash decisions... from Rhaenyra. And they feel sorry for Aegon II.

You know, the dude who fed his sister to a dragon while her 9 year old son watched. That poor man.

I wish I was joking. Yesterday I had to read that after Rhaenyra was killed the lords were not fighting for her anymore. This is the type of cr_p I see.

This Anon was so right that I want to make a shirt with this. Rhaenys and Corlys Anon, can we vote for you? Can we crown you? Please?

Like I have seen it all since day 1. Fics talking about Rhaenyra like she's a disgusting monster. Fics with Daemon abusing her and humiliating her. Fics making her look like a sociopathic Lolita on steroids. Comparing her to Cersei. Saying that Alicent wanting Luke to lose an eye is as bad as Rhaenyra wanting Aemond to be questioned sharply. Fics where she wishes she was as good of a mother as Laena.

I am so tired.

But also very happy that lately so many of you have been coming here to spill the tea and defend our Queen <3 I love y'all

PS: No idea why people are rebbloging this with the redacted tag. This is only referent to canon asoiaf Rhaenyra Targaryen.