#royce!oc

[lazy-kari202]

The Child

Chapter 1

Warnings: None

They say that love is the end of duty and that duty is the end of love. Rhaenella couldn’t have found that further from the truth. For the love she had for her mother and house made her proud to learn of her duties or at least most of them.

Rhaenella could often be found in the fields of Runestone when she oft meant to be in her studies. Like how she was now, gathering flowers next to the wall of Runestone.

As Rhaenella continued to gather flowers and mend the stems together,being lost in a sea of her own thoughts. The girl never heard the sound of a horse and its rider coming near.

“And just where are you supposed to be little hawk?”

Came a chiding voice of none other than Lady Rhea. A squeaky yelp could be heard and Rhaenella swiftly turned around to see her mother. After a bright gulp, “um! Nowhere mother.” Quickly claimed Rhaenella. Watching as her mother unseated herself from her horse and walked to her.

“Really? Then you wouldn’t mind explaining to me why I am hearing half of Runestone calling your name near the front gate?” Quickly replied Rhea with a smirk gradually reaching her cheeks.

But upon gazing down at her child, she quickly changes her face and tone to that of Lady Royce. “Please do explain to me the benefits of leaving your lessons unattended to and coming out here to simply make flower crowns!” Rhea said chidingly and gently grabbed the flower crowns on the ground, proving that Rhaenella had missed most of her lessons meant for today. Rhaenella looks up at her mother ashamed but looks to the side puffing out her cheeks.

“I didn’t even miss all of my lessons, I only meant to delay my last one with Ser Gerold.”

Rhaenella says the last bit rather quietly but Rhea still hears and gently lowers herself to be at level with her child.

“And why do you want to skip this lesson with cousin Gerold?” Rhea asks. “You know why mother!” Rhaenella yells back but quickly turns away ashamed.

Rhea soon looks around a little exasperated but also anxiously. “No matter how many time you speak to Ser Gerold he still treats me li-“ Rhaenella stops her sentence short but continues in a soft tone.

“Like I am an outsider, like I don’t belong. He looks at me with an expectation of something bad to happen as if I am-.” Rhaenella stops at the touch of her mother who is patting her head gently. Rhaenella gazes upon her mother whose face is marred by trouble.

“Let’s get you inside little hawk, mark your duties today fulfilled.”

Lady Rhea gazes at her daughter for a moment longer with an emotion Rhaenella can’t explain but complies with her Lady mother.

As Rhaenella is readied for bed by her septa she thinks nothing but of her mother and ser Gerold. Thoughts so loud that even long after her septa had left she found no sleep and decided to get up and sneak out of her room. It was quite easy since the guards to her room tend to sleep early into their shift.

As Rhaenella comes upon her mother’s solar she hears muffled voices and also finds no guards. She gets close to the door but dares not to open it. From her spot near the door she can hear her mother and Ser Gerold inside.

“She is a child Gerold, she bears no sins of her father! When will you get that through your head!” Rhaenella jumps at the harsh tone of her mother but soon hears the guilt ridden tone of Gerold.

“I know that cousin but I-“ “THERE IS NO EXCUSING THIS GEROLD!”

Rhaenella could hear her mother cut in harshly along with sound of a harsh bang.

“You tend to forget that as much as she is that Craven’s child- she is also mine! I am the one who suffered for months to bring her into this world! I am the one who labored! I am the one who fed her from my breast to ensure her strength! Despite all the turmoil I suffered with her at the start! She is mine, cousin. You do well to remember that from now on.”

Rhaenella even from behind the door could feel the finality of her mother’s words and as quietly as she could backed away from the door and hid. Rhaenella watched as a stone faced Gerold walked out of her mother’s solar and disappeared into the castle’s darkness.

Seeing her coast was clear, Rhaenella made her way back to her room and thanked the gods old and new that her guards were still vast asleep.

Upon entering her room Rhaenella is left feeling conflicted. Rhaenella didn’t hear the whole argument between her mother and Gerold but she could mostly likely guess that her father was mentioned in some form considering that he was a catalyst for this whole situation.

Rhaenella only ever knew the bare minimum of her father. All that she truly knew of her father was basics of who he is which gave nothing of his personality or is character.

One part of Rhaenella wants to know her father but another part truly couldn’t care. For how could she miss someone that she never truly knew. Her mother gave her all the love and attention she could think of. Be it there were moments of tension but from what her septa had told her who hasn’t? So what was the problem? Truly Speaking what role could the Prince Daemon fill that her mother had not? No matter how much Rhaenella paced her mind and body there was no answer.

The only thing Rhaenella could think of to assume an answer was that the only thing fueling her curiosity for this man was because no one gave her answer as to who he was, not even her mother. For the all answers she would give that was the one she would not give.

As Rhaenella thought this she stopped her pacing and sat down on her settee, facing the fire of her hearth.

Rhaenella recounted that moment of time when she did ask her mother about her father and did all she could to pry out any and all information but upon asking her mother, all Rhaenella received was a look filled with nothing but pain and helplessness.

Seeing that look upon her mother hurt Rhaenella in a way she never thought and all she could think of in that moment was that she never wanted to see that look again.

The only thing her mother uttered in that moment was that she would tell Rhaenella of her father when she is older, be it that he stays in the Stepstones still by that time- or when he indefinitely returns.

Her father would be a conversation saved for when the proper time came, thus Prince Daemon can be tucked away for now Rhaenella thought. Upon this conclusion a wave of determination stirred up in Rhaenella and she jumps up from her settee and heads for her desk and pulls out all of her books, scrolls, papers and quills.

Rhaenella would get no sleep this night for in her quivering heart was the determination to make her mother proud and for her to be ready to stand tall and face her studies well prepared in the morning.

It was safe to bet that upon all gods- old and new that Rhaenella was anything but properly prepared for her studies. For when her Septa Milla entered Rhaenella’s chamber the poor woman thought she had seen a ghost for the poor girl was pale, slumped and had eyes so dark they rivaled an empty night sky.

Upon Septa Milla’s arrival Rhaenella was fretted upon and ushered into a hot bath and then once out was readied for her day in what felt like only a matter of minutes. After quickly fretting over Rhaenella some more, Rhaenella was then escorted to the dining hall to break her fast with her mother.

“By all seven hells!”

Rhaenella heard her mother exclaim as she made her way next to her.

“Your daughter my lady deemed it necessary to stay up well past the hour of the wolf and well into this morning!” Explained Milla as Rhea turned to her daughter.

“But it was not only her staying up all night my lady, the girl was simply engulfed in a mountain of books, scrolls and paper!” “Would you care to explain yourself little hawk?”

Upon the question from her mother Rhaenella gazes up and into her eyes. “I- I wanted to be prepared! For my studies and duties mother. I want to give Ser Gerold no quarter!”

As Rhaenella gazes into her mother’s eyes and face, she watches as Rhea leans back into her chair and releases a proud smile on her. “A true Royce of Runestone. But please little hawk do not jeopardize your sleep again. As much as it pleases me to see you study and learn- you need to sleep, especially since you are still young.”

Rhaenella is quick to pout upon the ending statement from her mother but bounces back from praise.

“While we are on the topic of your studies today, your lessons with Ser Gerold are going to be skipped today- and this is not due to yesterday’s events. Cousin Gerold is out hunting and I soon will also be joining.”

The discovery of her mother’s trip to the forest excites Rhaenella but before she could ask to join her mother, Rhea tells her no and that simply because one lesson is not on her ledger does not mean she has more free time today.

“Your lessons little hawk will be just as long as they usually should be just that one will not be performed today. I expect to hear high remarks when I get back from my hunt considering your rather lovely night time activity.”

Rhea says with a smile. Her mother then finishes up her morning food, cleans herself and walks over to Rhaenella.

“Should you do well on your studies today, the next time I find myself wanting for a hunt. I will bring you along, how about that little hawk?”

Rhaenella’s face lights up upon this question and nods her head yes to her mother. Rhea kneels down to her daughter’s level and kisses her on her forehead.

“Be good for your septa and our maester. I will see you when I return.”

Rhea stands and pats Rhaenella’s head and strides out of the dining hall. Rhaenella watched her mother’s back fade out of the halls and quickly eats her morning food much to her septa’s dismay.

The day was still long for Rhaenella despite having two studies off her ledger. Rhaenella bristled through embroidery, she muscled her way through dancing, manners and etiquette.

What surprisingly almost broke her was singing, Rhaenella felt she had no breath left in her at the end and was almost jubilant for her lessons in history with maester Corlin.

It was the afternoon when Rhaenella reached the end of her last lessons with Maester Corlin regarding her literature and numbers. Rhanella after seating herself near one of the many windows had sneaked a peak outside to see if her mother returned but found nothing of significance in the courtyard.

Soon finding herself back facing her studies she is then interrupted by a door opening causing Maester Corlin to stop his teachings. Rhanella looking up from her papers is faced with Ser Gerold and Septa Milla.

“Ser Gerold, Septa Milla to what do I owe this interruption?”

“My Lady Ser Gerold wished to have a quick word with you but despite informing him that you were well into your studies,still wished to have a word with you.”

Rhanella gazes upon her septa and is quick to notice the nervousness of the woman with her fidgeting but says nothing and looks to Ser Gerold. Not willing to show anymore weakness to this man and for appearances sake stands and approach’s.

“Well Ser Gerold what do you wish to say?” Rhanella fights the urge to also fidget much like her septa.

Gerold steps forward and kneels down on one knee to Rhanella much to her surprise. “I wish to apologize Lady Rhaenella for my actions against you, it was wrong of me, I need not explain them away for that would be a waste of words. I wish to do this house proud and instead have shamed it and its heir.” Gerold then looks up into Rhaenella’s eyes.

“ there is no amount of words to describe the shame I feel in knowing I not only hurt my dear cousin Rhea with my actions but also her dear and beloved daughter. I am sorry Rhaenella, if you would forgive this foolish man, I humbly ask to continue in aiding you with your lessons in the sword and riding.” Gerold then moves his head down finishing his apology.

Looking to her Septa Rhaenella can also see the surprise on her face and most likely also on Maester Corlin who stands behind her. Not wanting this silence to continue she demands Gerold to stand and when he does.

“I must confess that this animosity between us is something I never truly understood, and although I may suspect the reasons that started it, I just wish for it to end. Gerold if this is truly a new start then it would bring me no greater pleasure to continue training with you! If it would also be possible could I also call you cousin? Since we are family and it would bring me great happiness to be as close as we should be!”

Upon this response Rhaenella sees a visible relaxation take hold of Gerold and a small smile graces his face.

“There would be no greater honor Rhaenella.” Unable to contain her happiness she hugs him and to her joy Gerold hugs her back.

“Before you go have you seen my mother out in the woods? She went hunting separately from you.” Rhaenella ask quickly.

“Yes but that was- I assume around earlier in the morning. I didn’t pass her upon my return but I am sure she will be back soon my lady, the sun is still quite high”

Rhanella steps back from Gerold and nods her head in understanding and bids him a goodbye for today.

Ser Gerold turns to go but upon reaching the door turns and wishes Rhaenella a good spar for tomorrow’s training. Gerold then leaves the room leaving her Septa and Maester in Rhaenella’s company. For a day so joyous Rhaenella’s hopes had begun to fly.

She felt as if the day was blessed by the Seven themselves but that happiness could only last for so long in a world such as hers.

For not long after Gerold’s visit, Rhaenella is told the news of mother’s horse arriving riderless into Runestone. Chaos had begun to seep into Rhaenella’s perfect day, sickening the very halls of her home and worrying Rhanella to no end.

Rhaenella had been taken to her chambers upon the news and was told Ser Gerold had taken a handful of Royce soldiers to find her mother.

Hours had passed, the sun that once showed such promise had now become a beacon of dread. For the closer it came to setting the more of Rhaenella’s sanity would wane- the more she cried for her mother. Despite the reassurances from her septa Rhaenella would not settle until she laid eyes on her mother. Rhaenella was pacing her room constantly looking out of all windows for a sign of Gerold and his company that would contain her mother but no sign was shown. She prayed to all seven gods for a sign and when that would not work she prayed to any and all gods, old and new combined until all thoughts became jumbled in her mind.

The only thing Rhaenella was told and what she heard was that her mother’s horse rode in fast into Runestone as if the poor thing was startled and that no blood or savagery was upon the horse. Meaning that most likely her mother may be alright. After all her mother was well known hunter and fighter but if her mother was alright why couldn’t they find her! Rhanella was at her wits end by the time the sun was passing the hills leading its decent to night.

It was around this time Rhaenella heard chaos begin to set in. For she could see from her windows Gerold and Royce soldiers riding fast towards Runestone.

Rhaenella wasted no time, pushing past her septa and down all the stairs and hallways in Runestone to make her way down to the courtyard.

She payed no mind to her septa who screamed and chased her through Runestone holding her robe for her night dress. As Rhanella pushed past guards who tried to stop her, she pushed the courtyard doors wide open.

Smiling at the thought of ending this nightmare and seeing her mother. All was shattered as Rhaenella laid her eyes on what would be the end of her innocence. What would be the end of all that she knew.

For the smile she had on her face faded and twisted into utter agony and confusion as why her mother would not stand. No matter her persistence to get closer, her septa and guards held the poor girl back as she kicked and screamed. As they carried her mother past her and into Runestone the only coherent thing Rhaenella could utter in that moment was one thing.

“Mother?”

(Hope you enjoyed the OFFICIAL chapter 1 of The Child and like and comment if you enjoyed and wish to be added to the next chapter for a notification. @saradika-graphics for the banners.)

[bronzefuryfic]

Bronze Fury

When the only child of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce is brought to King's Landing to meet with the rest of her family, she finds herself caught in a crisis of succession. The Greens battle for her support... and her affections.

Chapter One: Runestone Remembers / Directory

The shepherds of the Vale report the dragon Sheepstealer has been sighted to the south of Runestone. Determined to please her family, 15-year-old Rhae Targaryen is ready to finally claim her birthright, or die trying.

Since she was a child, Rhae Targaryen bore the weight of vengeance for a house wronged. The words of her mother's house were "We Remember", and for what happened to her, House Royce would never forget. The ghost of their fallen matriarch haunted the face of her daughter. Despite her silver hair, the only child of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce otherwise preserved the features of her mother.

Rhae would sometimes wonder if she looked any less like her mother, that the lords and ladies of Runestone might move on. Her uncles and cousins would promise her they'd have justice for Daemon's crimes, but these promises always seemed for someone else. While all of House Royce could remember Rhea Royce- her fury and her passion, her skill with a bow, her sharp wit- Rhae could not.

For all her frustration for her lack of remembrance, Rhae's heart still soared with each comparison.

"Your mother also favored a heavier bow when she was your age," her uncle would tell her. "Best to build the muscle. You'll have a far greater range than others will expect from a female archer."

Rhae would sometimes wonder if she looked any less like her mother, that the lords and ladies of Runestone might move on. Her uncles and cousins would promise her they'd have justice for Daemon's crimes, but these promises always seemed for someone else. While all of House Royce could remember Rhea Royce- her fury and her passion, her skill with a bow, her sharp wit- Rhae could not.

For all her frustration for her lack of remembrance, Rhae's heart still soared with each comparison."Your mother also favored a heavier bow when she was your age," her uncle would tell her. "Best to build the muscle. You'll have a far greater range than others will expect from a female archer."

"Lady Royce never had much patience for needlework either," lamented the Septa. "We'll have to have you start this piece again. That simply won't do..."

"A favorite of Rhea's, if I recall correctly," a cousin shared as Rhae pored over the historical accounts of Nymeria's travels. "Nymeria was a hero of hers."

Though she'd never know her mother, Rhae thought she would've liked her.

The subject of her father was an equally difficult one, but for a different reason. House Royce was sure to remind Rhae of her father's crimes near-daily. Her mother was said to have been thrown from her horse, her spine broken and skull caved. A senseless tragedy, as noted in the letters that came in the following weeks—most of which offered some line of inquiry about the new heir of Runestone's two-year-old hand. But nearly all neglected to comment on the true treachery that transpired.

Prince Daemon had returned to Runestone the day of his wife's death, and had scarcely stayed an hour before departing for the Red Keep. The Street of Silk was alive with whispers that night, rife with reports of Daemon's celebration. He was finally rid of his bronze bitch.

Rhae was raised on the story of her Uncle Gerold confronting Daemon at King's Landing and accusing him of murder. She was told how her father merely laughed, and said that as Rhea Royce's husband, Runestone should pass to him now. Daemon never made good on the threat, but nothing came of Ser Gerold's accusations either. During this time, only the Hightowers extended a hand. Ser Otto alone dared to acknowledge Rhea's murder in his communications with Ser Gerold. It was a small solace.

Rhae resented and feared the rogue prince accordingly. There was little incentive for any other conclusion—she could not remember Daemon either. Images of his face were only her imagination.

But resenting him did nothing to change her heritage. Rhae was the only person bearing the Targaryen name in all the Vale. She was easily spotted everywhere she went for her silver hair. Just as the vestiges of her mother haunted her, so did her father.

Her position was thus a precarious one. She was the heir to Runestone, but shared the name of the butcher who'd killed her predecessor. To some, to have a Targaryen sit the ancestral seat of House Royce was a great insult. As she was a woman, an engagement could easily remedy this slight, but there were those in Runestone that recognized the power in her name. If a Targaryen were to champion House Royce, their house may know glory like it hadn't seen in years. While the Bronze Kings were a proud lot, they would be foolish to deny the potential of the dragon before them.

That was, of course, if the young Targaryen had a dragon. Forgotten in the Vale, Rhae suffered from a lack of resources. She knew little of Old Valayria and its teachings. Daemon had never disowned his eldest daughter, but he'd never extended a hand to her either. It was as though she didn't exist, even as obvious as it may be she was a trueborn Targaryen. What House Royce remembers, the House of the Dragon forgets.

Questions of her place plagued Rhae through her youth. For all her love of House Royce, she carried a hollowness in her heart. She'd never known love without grief.

"They have denied us justice for your mother's murder for many years, Rhae," Gerold told her as they walked the courtyard. "And perhaps we'll be denied forever, if not for you. If Daemon were to return for Runestone, as he's promised, we will be at the mercy of his dragon."

"I cannot control his dragon," Rhae replied. An involuntary tug of her lip turns her mouth into a frown. Few things could stop a dragon, and Caraxes and his rider were as vicious as they came.

"Not his," Ser Gerold mused, offering a rare smile. He did not seem to hold his usual temperament. Rather than grave and serious, Ser Gerold's voice carried a hint of eagerness. For what, Rhae couldn't be certain. They'd had this conversation a thousand times in the 13 years since Rhea's murder. "We know little of dragons here, but even this we are certain. Dragons are loyal creatures, even if their riders are not."

Rhae pursed her lips and looked away. Last she'd heard, Daemon had travelled to the Free Cities some months ago with his new wife and children after a years-long stay in Driftmark. Rhae had spent many nights wondering if he might do something horrid to them as well, but all the news seemed to point to the contrary. Having won his battle in the Stepstones, and ridding himself of his first wife, Prince Daemon seemed to have retired to a life of a lavish lord. More than that, he seemed more than willing to share this life with Laena Velaryon and their children together. Rhae's father seemed no stranger to loyalty, even if it wasn't to her.

"There have been reports of a dragon migrating north from Dragonstone," Gerold continued, stopping Rhae in her tracks. "Myself and the maesters believe it might be a sign."

"I'm up for the task."

Gerold chuckled and turned, having gone a few paces past her.

"I suspected you might say that," He said, surveying her with pride. "I've had scouts tracking the beast's movements for some time now. We believe it's settled in a cavern on our Southern coast."

"And you've waited until now to tell me?"

"We wanted to be certain," Ser Gerold said, raising a hand defensively. "Furthermore, we'd hoped you might learn more from King Viserys before taking on such a task. Has the King responded to your letters?"

Rhae flushed. At her uncle's behest, she'd been attempting to appeal to the King's supposed love of family and Valaryian history. Ser Gerold even instructed her to express contempt for House Royce and show a longing to reconnect with her Targaryen roots. Rhae thought this piece was her most convincing. She hadn't expected an invitation to King's Landing by any means, but she'd hoped at least for a book or two. So far, even that was too much to ask.

"No."

Ser Gerold's brow furrowed, and Rhae knew this meant disappointment.

"I don't need a letter or a book or a blessing from the king to claim what is mine!" She insisted, clenching her fists. She'd do anything to ease the constant shame that hung so heavily over her. "Just because they refuse to see me as part of their house, doesn't mean I don't share their blood! It is my birthright to claim a dragon. You too must not deny me this!"

Ser Gerold held her gaze a long while, before finally relinquishing with a curt nod.

"Very well, Lady Rhae."

And without waiting for dismissal, Rhae took off to prepare her things.

Rhae, Ser Gerold, and thirty of their best men set out the next morning for Gull Town. The journey took three days of riding, but Rhae did not mind. Away from the castle, on her way to claim a dragon... The change was welcome.

Rhae was accustomed to whispers as she passed, but on this journey, the guards were sure to give her plenty space. She suspected this might be on her uncle's order—He had been oddly distant with her since they last spoke. He communicated to her only in scout updates and affirming nods from across the campsite. Rhae wondered what he was thinking.

Scouts reported they were tracking Sheepstealer, a wild dragon of about forty years of age. According to Ser Gerold, Sheepstealer did not harm shepherds. While it was not clear what compelled him to come so far north, the dragon seemed to behave in all manners expected from its name. Farmers have reported over two dozen sheep stolen in the last few days alone.

They planned for Rhae to deliver a sheep to the dragon before attempting to ride it. While Sheepstealer did not hunt humans, there was no way to determine his reaction to being approached. If things turned deadly, Rhae was to fall back to the treeline immediately. Archers would cover her retreat, and with any luck, Sheepstealer would leave after losing sight of them.

"Not that I have any doubts you will claim this dragon," Ser Gerold added after their meeting. "You are Targaryen; the dragon will obey your command."

Rhae willed herself to believe the same.

On the second night of their journey, a scout reported he had seen Sheepstealer just a mile westward. The camp grounds held an uneasy silence that night, every knight and guard nervous to fall asleep with a dragon so close by. In the morning, they would deliver Rhae to the sight on foot, to avoid detection and possibly frightening the beast.

Rhae too stayed up late, feeding on the anxieties of the rest of the campsite. She tossed and turned in her make-shift bed.

Perhaps she wasn't ready to tame a dragon. She'd never so much as seen one before! If she failed to tame Sheepstealer, what would come of her house's hope for justice? Would she become exiled from them too? Rhae thought she might prefer Sheepstealer eat her before facing that future.

In the morning, Ser Gerold maintained his stiff silence towards his niece. The whole walk, Rhae hoped he might say something. When they first heard Sheepstealer's roar, he did not look her way. As the archers got into position, Ser Gerold busied himself with a loose strap on his armor. It wasn't until her uncle pressed the sheep's lead into Rhae's hand, still dodging her gaze, that she found the courage to break the silence herself.

"I don't mean to alarm you, uncle, but I think you have grown twice as gray as when we started this trip."

Ser Gerold looked as though Rhae had smacked him across the face, then let out a wild bark of laughter. The guards behind him flinched at the sudden noise, eyes still trained on Sheepstealer, and Ser Gerold instantly bit his knuckle.

"Apologies," he whispered, leaning in as tears stung his eyes. He was still chuckling softly. "You are so extraordinarily like your mother."

"So I've heard," Rhae mustered.

"I'm sorry, Rhae," Ser Gerold clasped her shoulders, gaining his composure. Sheepstealer trilled from the field, but Ser Gerold did not take his eyes off her. "I have acted cowardly. House Royce has little business with dragons. I must admit, this pending task frightens me more than any I've had before."

"Fear not, Uncle," Rhae managed half a smile. "I'm the one carrying his favorite snack."

"That is the part that frightens me most." Before Rhae could reply, Ser Gerold pulled her into a tight embrace. A lump formed in her throat as her arms wrapped around his torso.

Lead in hand, Rhae steps out of the brush into the field. The ocean breeze blowing in from over the cliff edge whips her silver hair, and she quickly spots Sheepstealer lounging by the cliff face. She turns to see her Uncle Gerold one last time, and he gives her a final, grim nod.

You've got this.

Heart thumping in her chest, Rhae marched the sheep across the field. It was much farther away from the treeline than she would've preferred. As she drew near, Sheepstealer lifted his scaly head to watch her. To Rhae's surprise, he was actually smaller than she had imagined. Rhae wondered for a moment whether she'd merely imagined dragons to be too big. She straightened her spine—he wasn't so scary.

Sheepsteeler scales were a dark muddy brown, making it difficult to distinguish his features. He was a dark, lean mass save for orange eyes that seemed to glow like embers. The sheep Rhae escorted tugged at the rope, resisting her lead. The dragon trilled once more, eyes narrowing on its squirming meal.

Rhae held her ground as Sheepstealer pushed himself up further, baring his teeth. After a moment, when nothing else happened, Rhae gave a tug of the leash and dragged the struggling sheep closer.

"Serve me, Sheepstealer." Rhae said, locking eyes with the beast before her. His snout flared slightly. "By the power of Old Valyria, heed my words."

Rhae was uncertain that the dragon could understand her—his attention seemed torn between her and the offering she brought along.

It won't work, Rhae thought fearfully. But she couldn't return without a dragon. Sheepstealer would listen to her—He had to.

Now within biting distance of the dragon, Rhae slackened her grip of the sheep's lead. It at least seemed a good sign Sheepstealer had not struck yet.

The moment of truth was approaching. The sheep would run, and the dragon would feast. Then, if she still had her wits, Rhae would mount his back. She tried not to dwell on the fact that she wasn't sure what to do then, either.

Rhae let the rope fall to the ground with a soft thump, and the sheep set off at a brisk trot, its lead trailing behind it. Sheepstealer was now raised on all fours, watching its prey flee with alarming excitement.

"My gift to you, Sheepstealer."

With a roar of delight, the dragon did not waste a second longer to open his maw and expel a shot of flames. Even though the blast was not aimed at her, Rhae gasped at the intensity of the dragon's breath from where she stood. Startled, she leapt backwards to distance herself from the wave of heat. In doing so, her foot snagged on a rock.

Rhae cursed loudly, swinging her arms wildly for balance. She knew her mistake instantly—she should've allowed herself to fall. Sheepstealer may have tolerated Rhae's presence so far, but tolerance was not the same as trust. The sudden noise and large movements surprised the dragon, which defensively spun on her in an instant. His neck coiled back, eyes turning to slits. Another blast seemed to building in his throat...

"Serve me, Sheepstealer!" Rhae cried forcefully. "I wish you no harm! Stand down! Obey!"

Rhae could've sworn she saw the glow within his gullet dim, but control was already lost. At the edge of the wood, Ser Gerold had charged the open field the moment the dragon turned on Rhae. Dutifully, a small band of knights followed quickly behind. They let out a cry, drawing Sheepstealer's attention.

With a roar and a powerful flap of his wings, Sheepstealer was airborne.

"RHAE! RETREAT!"

Shit shit shit shit shit shit!

Rhae made her way hurriedly across the field, sprinting past the smouldering, forgotten sheep she'd brought as an offering. Within moments, Sheepstealer had crossed the field and was descending upon the guards. A volley of arrows loosed as the knights threw their shields up.

Sheepstealer roared in outrage, lashing his spiked tail dangerously. One body went soaring through the air, landing with a sickening crack in the ground thirty feet away. Rhae's heart seized as she sprinted harder for the wood.

"Fire!"

Another volley of arrows loosed, with several lodging in the dragon's throat. They didn't seem deep enough for any substantial damage, but Sheepstealer still cried defiantly, shaking them free.

Rhae was closer now, and could see Ser Gerold slashing with his sword. She sucked what air she could into her lungs and cried out once more.

"Stop this attack! Stop!"

Now caught up, Rhae dodged as Sheepstealer gave another deadly whip with his tail. It came down hard beside her uncle, who fell to the ground with a painful grunt. Before she could make her way to him, another knight had grabbed her firmly around the waist and was dragging her to cover.

"NO! Sheepstealer, stop! Unhand me!"

Rhae wrestled herself from his grip and ran to her uncle, ignoring the danger. A roar filled the air as another volley loosed—the men were panicking. Sheepstealer incinerated the arrows as they flew closer, thrashing his head. Rhae heard muffled shouts over the ringing that now filled her ears.

A blinding pain consumed her left side, the same wave of heat from before colliding even closer to where she stood. Rhae fought to keep her eyes open, struggling to focus on her own smouldering arm. Her skin bubbled and boiled, looking red and angry. Through the haze and smoke, she saw Sheepstealer rise once more.

"Ser... Gerold" she gasped. She had fallen to her knees, trying to hold herself up with her uninjured right arm. Her Uncle was badly hurt. With one knee bent at an odd angle, and an arrow protruding from his gut, Ser Gerold Royce lay gasping for breath in the dirt. He too suffered from sickly burns. Rhae watched in horror as his armor seemed to mold to his skin.

Ser Gerold writhed on the ground, crying in anguish from his injuries. As Sheepstealer soared off over the ocean, the remaining guard came out from their cover.

"We need a healer!" someone called. Rhae was loosing conscious rapidly, but she was vaguely aware of someone attempting to move her.

"Uncle..."

Rhae did not remember her travels back to Runestone, having been heavily sedated on the milk of the poppy. It was later, while she recovered in the castle, that the Maesters finally filled her in.

During her third bandaging, she'd finally become lucid enough to understand their story. She was told that they'd only lost seven men of the thirty they brought—a "miracle". In addition, only she and two others received any long-lasting injury.

"And Ser Gerold? Which of these is he?" she demanded of the Maesters once she had found her voice. They bowed their heads, confirming her fears.

"I apologize, Lady Rhae," the eldest of them, Maester Willem, stepped forward. "They said Ser Gerold did not survive the return to camp."

Rhae let loose a throaty sob, wishing they'd leave. She could not shout at them in this state, and so allowed them to proceed with applying burn creams to her charred arm.

"Your injury will take time to heal, but it thankfully has not become infected," Willem continued, once her labored sobs gave way to sniffles. "It is likely the scar tissue will affect mobility at your shoulder and elbow joint, but we hope it'll be mostly functional within a few months."

Rhae would give both arms to have Ser Gerold returned to her—none at Runestone advocated for the heir as devoutly as her Uncle.

"Any other news?" She asked meekly as they re-bandaged her arm. She prayed for none.

The Maesters exchanged nervous glances before Willem brought forth a letter from a pocket deep in his robes.

"One last thing, if you're up for it..." She wasn't. "It arrived shortly after you left."

Grunting, Rhae leaned forward in her bed, reaching for the scroll. She broke the seal and flattened it one-handed on her bedsheets. As soon as she read it, she read it over again. Then a third time, just to be sure.

"Is this truly from the Queen?"

"It came with all the royal seals, my lady."

"She says..." Rhae's voice faltered once more. "She says that the Crown regrets our estrangement."

"This is good news, is it not?"

Rhae couldn't say. Ser Gerold had ruled Runestone in her stead all these years. Rhae had originally ascended at 2, but now at 15 it would be appropriate for her to sit the seat herself. That was, if anyone else from House Royce still trusted her after this latest tragedy. She could already hear the whispers in the hall. Rhae had been tasked with bringing justice, but all she brought was more death and more destruction.

Rhae reread the letter a fourth time, ignoring the Maester's question.

"The King grows ill." She continued. "And has expressed a desire to reconnect with family after so many years apart." Did it count as reconnecting if they'd never met? "The Queen says she would like to host me in King's Landing, to learn the ancient traditions of my House." A bit late for that, it seemed. "She mentions her daughter Haelena is my age, and her sons are close to it. It's her sincerest hope that we might still be friends..."

Rhae trailed off, reading the letter a fifth time. Rage brewed in her stomach. What good was such an offer now that Ser Gerold was dead? The Maesters watched her closely.

"If I may offer some advice," Maester Willem said at last. "I know you bear no love for your Targaryen family members, but you're scarcely the only one to feel that way... if you're to believe the gossip of lords and ladies, that is."

"Which lords and ladies?"

Maester Willem eyed her closely. "The Hightowers have long held contempt for your father, just as the Royces have. I think it notable that your response came from the Queen, and not the King."

Rhae allowed his words to sink in, trying to ignore how itchy and sore her arm felt beneath its wrappings. Ser Gerold's cries of anguish still rang in her ear.

What had it been for?

"Fetch me some parchment, Maester," Rhae groaned as she sat straightened in her bed. She may be without her own dragon, but she could still align herself with their firepower. Best yet, she could do so while granting House Royce a reprieve from her presence. "And put away the poppy. I've had plenty."

The Maesters bustled at her orders. There was still a matter of finding someone to warm her seat in her absence, and she would need time to recover before she traveled. A necessary delay, though plenty frustrating...

"Prepare our fastest raven," Rhae continued, dipping her quill. "I'll have my response sent as soon as I'm done with it."

She may not remember Rhea, as the rest of House Royce did, but the sight of Ser Gerold's mangled corpse was not something she'd soon forget.

Next Chapter: Ch. 2 - To King's Landing

After suffering a great loss, Rhae is summoned to King’s Landing to meet her estranged Targaryen family members. Far from home and alone in the dragon’s den, it is up to her to determine friend from foe. 

AO3 | Chapter Discussion

Thanks for reading!

[boldstarks]

Dagmar Royce Masterlist

This is a masterpost for extra content involving my story, Bronze Star, and my OC, Dagmar Royce, who is the younger sister of Rhea Royce.

Main Story: Bronze Star

Headcanons

Dagmar Royce's Profile

Dagmar's Children

Dagmar and Jason's Love Story

Blurbs

Blurb #1: The Lady Runestone

Blurb #2: Keeper of the Gates of the Moon

Blurb #3: Who is Addam?

[godswood-girl]

if someone asked me at the end i'd tell them put me back in it darling, i would do it again if i could hold you for a minute

yet another incredible commission by the amazing @murmel-malt, this time of my favourite hotd lesbians, alicent hightower and my oc daena royce, stars of my future fic and though i burn

[papakhan]

Christine, herself another victim of Dean Domino, felt guilt for further desecrating Vera Keyes' memory by stealing her voice. While Sun, remembering the legends of the Khans haunted by ghosts' past, was wary of Vera's holographic visage. Together they decided there was only one thing they could do.

Two-hundred years after her death, shrouded in silk linen and wrapped with trinkets and symbols of her life, Vera Keyes was finally laid to rest.

[idksmtms]

no body, no crime (Daemon Targaryen x Niece!reader) - evermore series

evermore series

A/N: 2 fics in one day?? Am I trying to make up for the month I was away?? (yes, yes I am...)

I feel like I only write Niece!reader with Daemon because he is the perfect hot incesty uncle on HoTD and why would I want to change that?? 

Summary: When Rhea Royce is found dead in a riding accident in the Vale and Daemon returns to King's Landing, you wonder if it is all because of you… 

Word count: ~3k 

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, kinda scary Daemon, creepy vibes, mentions of death, suspicion of murder, kinda stalker/obsessive Daemon, era typical marriage habits, slight spoilers for HoTD S1, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

You had always known that Daemon was dangerous. No person that lived in King’s Landing should think otherwise, because the ones that did often ended up a consequence of his danger. He was reckless, ruthless, impulsive. He had killed and was always ready to kill again. You knew of the proverb the common folk often quoted, “Madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. When a Targaryen is born, the gods toss a coin in the air, and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.” You often wonder which side the coin has landed on Daemon, whether it has even landed yet or you are merely witnessing a point in time when the face with madness is tilted up to the earth as it rotates through the air. 

You had always been intrigued by your uncle, by his harsh manner and sultry tongue, by his ruthless quest for power and his weakness for women. As a second daughter, you had much more idle time than Rhaenyra ever did, and you often used it to skulk about the Red Keep and spy on the doings of others. You had grown an early infatuation with watching Daemon in the training yard, or simply following him as he made his way around the Keep. 

Of course at that age you had thought yourself a master of secrets, one with the shadows, and you hadn’t noticed the little smile that always graced his lips when he noticed you following him, or that he took extra long, winding, paths to reach his destination. 

Then Daemon had defied your father and gone to fight the war in the Stepstones, and that had been the end of that. In the long while Daemon had been gone, the realities of womanhood had raised you quickly. You were burdened by responsibilities, by the slowly growing urgency of finding you a suitor. You were so changed that when Daemon returned victorious and supplicant, he almost did not recognise the woman you had become. 

It was now him who was found trailing you, watching you when he could and forcing his company onto you. It was now he who was infatuated with you, and while you would have enjoyed the attention once, would have revelled in it and preened girlishly, you had also become aware of the realities of men, and particularly Daemon in the time he had been gone. You had become aware of his violent tendencies, his gallivanting habits, and most of all, his marriage. 

His hatred of Rhea Royce was famous throughout the land, he had made it clear to any passerby, but you still valued the sanctity of marriage and would not take any part in helping him defile it. 

“Would you care to accompany me on a stroll through the gardens, darling niece?” He asked one day after finding you perusing scrolls on Targaryen history in the library. You had jumped at the sound of his voice, looking at him warily as he seemed to appear out of the shadows. His dark eyes scared you. 

“Unchaperoned? That would not be wise uncle,” you had mumbled, turning back to the tome placed on the table before you. 

“You are my niece, why would a chaperone be required?” He asked as if you had posed a ludicrous concern and you frowned at him again. 

“Yes, but we are also Targaryens,” and while you had believed that to be the end of the conversation, Daemon had simply scoffed and forcibly threaded your arm through his and walked you out of the room. 

You couldn’t deny that the walk had been pleasant. He could be funny when he wanted, and he was immensely clever despite his impatience and brutish behaviour, and you had found your hands gripping him voluntarily, found yourself enjoying the feeling of his firm muscles under your fingertips. But you also couldn’t deny that there was something that always had you on edge. There was an underlying violence, a darkness that always lingered around him, and you knew that you could never trust that you were fully safe in his company despite no obvious threat. 

More walks were posed in the coming days that you happily agreed to, and enjoyed all the more. You could physically feel his charms working, at the gentle way he caressed the back of your hand when he was lost in thought while listening to you speak. Or the way he gazed directly into your eyes when he spoke, his gaze never once wavering. And he had a certain affinity for presenting you with gifts. The first was still your most cherished, a necklace with a pendant of Valyrian steel shaped in the sigil of house Targaryen. You often felt equal parts scared, excited, and happy in his presence. 

When it was decided that Rhaenyra was to tour the realm to find a suitor, your father decided that it would be best for you to accompany her and try to find a suitor of your own. Of course Rhaenyra would have first pick, but you could choose from the others and it would be best to be done with the complications for both princesses all together. While you weren’t particularly looking forward to the prospect, you were content in the knowledge that you would be allowed to pick your own husband, a luxury you were highly aware few were afforded in the realm. 

A fortnight before you were due to leave, in the late evening when the Keep was lit only by torches and candles, Daemon cornered you in the library. Your space was lit only by a few candles scattered around the table you were sitting at, and when you noticed him lingering at the edges of the light, you jumped out of your seat, ready to scream for help. Your heart beat out of your chest, your entire body was clenched and you wanted to run, but then he stepped into the light and you felt yourself unfurl in your seat. Relief was like a wash of cold water and you began to giggle, hand pressed to your chest as you gulped air in like you had never tasted it before. 

“It’s just you,” you breathed out, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them and refocusing your gaze on Daemon now that he had stepped closer to you. He walked over and kneeled down in front of your seat. 

“Do not leave on this tour,” he said it firmly, almost desperately, but you could only frown at him in confusion. 

“I- what do you mean, kepus?” You clasped your hands in your lap, fidgeting a little with your index finger. He quickly wrapped his own hands around them, gripping them tightly as he looked at you. 

“I mean that you should abandon this worthless search for a suitor, and marry me instead.” You let out an incredulous laugh but found nothing funny about the situation. You pried your hands out of his grip and quickly stood up, stepping back from where he stayed kneeling in front of you. Not for the first time did you realise how tall and strong his body was that you were not much of an intimidating presence even while he kneeled at your feet. 

“You cannot be serious, kepus,” you mumbled. 

“What makes you think I am in jest?” He asked, and you could see no humour in any part of him. He looked hewn from stone. 

“Because you are married, Daemon! By the gods, how do you forget this each and every day of your life?!” Your body felt like it was overflowing with panic and hysteria. “You are married, and have been married for a long while. Just because you leave Rhea Royce in the Vale does not change that fact. It is sacrilege for you to even suggest marrying me while she lives happily and healthily.” The sudden pin prick of tears caught you by surprise, and you wiped at your cheek before they had even fallen. 

Daemon stood from where he had kneeled and stepped closer to you. When you began to back away, he followed, and only when your back was pressed to the wall and you could move no further did he stop. He refrained from pressing his entire body to yours but his face was so close that your noses brushed and his eyes had blurred into a slash of black. 

“Is my sham of a marriage the only reason you deny me?” He asked, low and whispery, his voice a snake slithering up your arms and legs. You gulped, the urge to run like a raging storm inside of you. “Answer me.” 

“Yes.” You said it so quickly you weren’t sure you spoke it for a second, but once it left your mouth, you knew it to be true. If he was not married you would say yes. If he was not married you could actually see yourself loving him. But it was simply not to be. 

He stood there and stared at you so long that you wondered if this was your end. Were you about to die at the hands of your uncle? You began closing your eyes, readying yourself for the inevitable when he pressed his lips to your cheek in a chaste kiss then pulled away and walked out of the library. You opened your eyes and nothing was amiss. It was almost as if he hadn’t ever been there and you had stood from the chair and pressed yourself to the wall of your own volition. 

You stood there for a few minutes more, just waiting for something to happen, for Daemon to return or the Stranger to come and guide you to the next life. But the world had returned to the stillness it inhabited in the hour of the ghosts. 

The tour had been unsuccessful for Rhaenyra, but ultimately it had been unsuccessful for you too. You could not marry before Rhaenyra, but after meeting the men on the tour, you didn’t want to marry any of them anyway. They were all either young, immature, boys who didn’t know their right from their left, or men as old as your father, backs already curling over their walking sticks and servants already wiping dribbled wine from their chins. 

In the days after your return to King's Landing, you had discovered Daemon’s sudden disappearance with Caraxes and it had left you in a certain dowerness. You had already spent so long at sea with little to no entertaining company, and you had looked forward to returning to your walks with your uncle. It seemed not to be. 

But soon enough you were whisked away to Driftmark to secure Rhaenyra’s betrothal, and despite being rather annoyed that you were forced to join this journey, you ended up glad for it. Laena Velaryon, close to you in age, swiftly became a favoured companion of yours. She was strong but kind, fun but sensible, and you found yourself excitedly seeking her company in the time you spent at Driftmark before the betrothal was finalised and you all began making your way back to King’s Landing. 

While you were happy for Rhaenyra, happy that she found someone she could spend the rest of her life with in Laenor, you began to worry once more for your own prospects. Who would you choose? Or worse, who would be chosen for you? But all these worries were put to the side upon discovering the news that awaited you on your return to the Red Keep. 

Rhea Royce was dead. Mourning bells had rung through the Vale upon the discovery of her crushed body under her horse. But all you could think about was the determination in Daemon’s eyes that evening in the library. All you could think of was the question he had asked, the harsh whisper and the quick exit. Where was he? 

With each day that passed, your nerves grew. Your mind was plagued with the thoughts that this was all Daemon’s doing, a desperate attempt to end his marriage so he would be free to love you openly. And with every day that he did not return, your heart grew more fearful that your suspicion was correct. 

There had only been one letter from him, sent from some unknown location, claiming a grief over the tragic accident that befell his wife, and nothing more… 

On the day of Rhaenyra’s wedding, you had almost spilled your goblet of wine down your dress when he had entered the hall. He looked clean and fresh, as put together as ever, and something inside you turned cold at the smirk he wore as he sauntered down the aisle and waited for a chair to be placed for him at the table just to your right. 

Laena, blessed Laena, sitting directly to your right was your rock. You had requested that she have her place at the head table with you, and now you were more thankful than ever that you had requested the placement. 

“So,” she whispered right in your ear, “what killed her then?” You jumped, turning to Laena with wide eyes and shaking hands. 

“What? What do you mean?” If others didn’t know any better, it would surely be assumed that you were somehow guilty for the death. 

“Well, you said so yourself, Daemon is claiming he simply heard the news of her death and that he believes it was a tragic accident, but the Royces believe he had something to do with it, that Rhea was too good a rider for it to have happened the way it looked. What do you believe?” 

You said nothing, let Laena get bored of your silence and move on to other topics and judgements of the people in the hall. But when she stood from her seat to go greet her family members on one of the lower tables, it took everything within you not to cling to her skirts like a child and beg her to take you with her. 

As soon as she left you sitting there, your eyes were pulled to Daemon like some magical force controlled your actions. You couldn’t stop watching him, lips almost shaking, and he watched you in return, jovial to an almost sadistic degree. Just as he was about to reach for your hand on the table, a man walked up and stood just in front of him, glaring so viciously that you bristled. Daemon didn’t even bother glancing in his direction until he cleared his throat aggressively. 

“Yes?” He asked, frowning in confusion and annoyance in the man’s direction. “Who are you?” 

“Sir Gerold.” When Daemon continued to look at him like he was some random fool, you could almost see the smoke pouring from the man’s ears. “I am Sir Gerold Royce. I am cousin to your late lady wife.” Your eyes widened as you looked upon the man, pressing yourself back into the seat warily as Daemon seemed to relax further into his, leaning back, palms pressed to the table, and a look of clarity dawning across his face. 

“Aah, yes, terrible thing, I’m positively bereft, such a tragic accident.” His lack of expression was almost comical. If you hadn’t been so terrified of the situation you were sure you would have laughed uproariously at the fake grief Daemon so easily wove to further antagonise the Royce man. The man’s jaw looked close to cracking at how harshly he clenched his teeth together. 

“You know better than anyone it was no accident.”

“Are you confessing some guilt, Sir Gerold?” He asked, and you could see that Daemon was enjoying the interaction immensely. He had that mischievous glint in his eye, that subtle quirk to his lip that gave him such a self-superior air and made him ten times more dislikable than he already was. 

“I am making an accusation.” And there it was, out in the open now for all to see, the uncomfortable suspicion that had bounced around everyone’s mind since the news of Rhea Royce’s tragic passing had spread. 

Daemon said nothing, simply continued staring at Gerold Royce with those black eyes of his that made the world feel small and harsh. Ser Lyonel was listening on your left, and you wanted to melt into the wood of your chair, never to be seen again. The air was thick and painful and watching Daemon quickly deposit the man with no thought to the grief he was going through, you leapt out of your chair and scurried out of the hall, ignoring the footsteps that chased after you. 

You weren’t quite sure where you were going, just that you had to leave that situation and were now fruitlessly attempting to outrun the thoughts that chased you so relentlessly. Your breaths were shallow and painful, your hands felt full of blood, heavy and swollen, and you couldn’t quite see where you were going through the panic. 

Your trusty feet led you to the library and you only stopped once you were inside and at the table you usually chose to sit at. As the breath began to return to you, so did the awareness that you were not alone. You whirled around to find Daemon turning the corner with his long strides. He paused just at the edge of the little area you occupied and watched you with a calculating gaze. 

“Did you do it, Daemon? Did you kill your wife for this?” You asked hurriedly, voice hushed and lips stumbling over one another as you spoke. Your pulse was thrumming in your ears, and while you were all fidgeting and pacing, Daemon stood still and stoic, as immovable as a wall. When you paused to look at him, chewing on your lip as you frowned the longer he made you wait for an answer, he stood to his full height before leaning down so his face was pressed as close to yours without actually kissing you. 

“I would do anything for us,” and his voice was a dark whisper, a promise…

[dammarchy211]

Per the description of the heartless perk “robots are now confused by you”

Also chapters 2 and 3 are out for that post game fic I’m writing 👍👍

[murmel-malt]

when you and your husband are at the funeral of your father's second wife and you see him and your cousin eye-fucking across the venue

[all-lee24]

Aldrich, devourer of gods

Pre-sludge

I’m cooking up a comic for him, I have many narrative ideas about my favorite darkmoon and my favorite man eater.

[lazy-kari202]

The Child

Prev - Chapter 2

Warning: Description of injury and blood.

Blood

That was all Rhaenella could see, blood. Rhaenella never knew so much could fall from one person. She never knew how much it stained everything it touched. Her mother’s blood was everywhere in her eyes, for it covered everyone who touched her mother, even Rhaenella.

It’s took two days before there was even some semblance of life to be seen in her mother’s body. Two days of torment for Rhaenella who feared the absolute worst.

Two days of nonstop running for everybody in the castle low and highborn alike.

Throughout those two days Rhaenella did nothing but pray beside her mother’s bedside, Rhaenella did not care much for the seven but if it would help her mother even a little she would do it.

While Rhaenella was beside her mother her Septa did all she could to pry Rhaenella away. Rhaenella would hear none of it, not even from maester Corlin or cousin Gerold. Rhaenella declared her studies and lessons were to be halted until her mother was better.

But as the night for the third day approached Rhaenella could see how her house had become undone by the condition of her mother, the Lady of her house.

No matter how much they quieted their voices Rhaenella could still hear the arguments and inquiries of her mother’s advisors and cousin.

Even now as Rhaenella sat next to her mother- rubbing her hand, she could still hear them well outside her mother’s chamber discussing- planning on what they should do. All of this was soon interrupted by a maid walking into her mother’s room and pulled out supplies, watching her Rhaenella asked her.

“What are you doing?” The maid looked up startled to see the young lady.

“OH! My lady I did not see you!” The maid quickly curtsies. “I don’t care about that, I asked what you are doing?” Rhaenella replied impatiently.

The maid blushes in embarrassment but replies that she was getting ready to clean her mother’s wound and replace the bandages on orders of the maester.

As Rhaenella heard this she soon thought of how for the past two days all she did for her mother was pray and soon after thinking this, Rhaenella recounted a speech cousin Gerold gave her to try and pry Rhaenella away from her mother.

“Rhaenella please think of how your mother would feel knowing you abandoned all your duties just to pray over her! Her heart would ache to know how much she worried you- and I know you are scared but praying here can only help your mother so much. She would want you to remain strong to continue your studies! To be the heir! Imagine the proud look upon her face to see you triumph in the face of fear and chaos!”

After remembering that speech a force of helplessness was felt in Rhaenella.

Was praying here next to her mother truly going to help her? Was praying going to help her house? After thinking this Rhaenella gazes upon the maid who worked upon her mother. She watched intently, analyzing the way the maid moved and worked. Rhaenella wanting to rid herself of this helplessness stopped the maid.

The maid surprised again by the touch of Rhaenella looked up.

“My Lady?” Rhaenella quickly replies to the maid.

“Can you start all over again? Starting tonight I wish to help in this endeavor.”

Smiling at Rhaenella the maid quickly obliges and restarts to train Rhaenella in aiding her mother.

It was soon well into the night by the time Rhaenella gained a proper understanding of how to handle her mother’s injury and bandages. As the maid prepared to leave Rhaenella quickly asked her to gather cousin Gerold, maester Corlin, her septa and her mother’s advisors.

The maid then quickly exited upon this request.

Rhaenella met all chosen attendants in her mother’s solar. And there, Rhaenella declared that she would take over her mother’s spot until her mother was up and ready to resume her duties. Of course upon this declaration she was met with stiff opposition for all decreed she was too young to take up her mantle. But Rhaenella’s heart was set, to make her mother proud and lessen the weight set upon her house.

As all present were in the throes of opposition, Rhaenella whose heart was set yelled a loud “SILENCE!”.

All fell quiet in a snap.

“Arnol Shett, Levir Tollett and Clatton Coldwater you all served and were advisors to my mother when she was young yes?”

Upon their names being called all answered a swift yes.

“Now you shall be advising me! I know I am young and that is exactly why I need you, without a head we will all be lost. We shall all work together to maintain Runestone in my mother’s absence. I will be the head, you my Lords my body, cousin Gerold will be my arms and my septa will be my legs to steady me should I fall short!”.

Hearing such a strong voice come from this little girl inspired all who heard it, for after her speech all quickly allied in favor.

Well into the kiss of morning light Rhaenella looked at ledgers & letters with her advisors, Gave orders to those of house work with Ser Gerold, Looked after her mother with the help of Maester Corlin and was advised by him on responding to letters.

Much was similar to her studies but the difference now was her tutors and that there was no room for a single error.

The following six days were grueling but Rhaenella made no complaint. For six days she maintained Runestone, filed & counted ledgers for resources, remained correspondence with lords and ladies of the realm who were in trade with Runestone. All of that Rhaenella did with a stiff lip but what she almost couldn’t handle was court.

Rhaenella made her first appearance at the court of Arryn after informing the Lady Jeyne Arryn who to much surprise of Rhaenella was a good friend’s with her mother. The Lady Jeyne was truly beautiful to Rhaenella for she took no quarter in injustice and insult and was immensely kind and remorseful to Rhaenella.

The Lady Arryn took back the management for Gulltown which she usually let house Royce handle due to its proximity. Rhaenella learned much from the short time she was with Lady Arryn and was eternally grateful for the support she gave. for it gave Rhaenella the courage to reinstate court on Runestone that was stalled due to her mother.

Court was a disaster at first for the girl but Rhaenella was quick to learn in gratitude for her peers were always there to lend a hand in guidance and caution. In part of all of this, Rhea remained bedridden to the concern of all house Royce.

Every dawn and dusk Rhaenella was there to visit and care for her mother.

Halfway through the six days Rhaenella could no longer change bandages on her mother for the head wound had healed up rather nicely for Maester Corlin.

So filling the rest Rhaenella aided in the changing and cleaning of her mother when she could. While the maester, Gerold and the Lords all aided in Runestone. her Septa Milla aided in Rhaenella's sanity. for despite Rhea's Injury healing she still would not wake and this haunted Rhaenella for despite her actions she was still a child in need of her mother.

Despite all of Rhaenella’s concerns, aggravations, and troubles she still maintained her sleep for it was the last thing she promised her mother from before.

Holding onto her mother’s promise was what mostly held her up but she told that to no one not even Septa Milla. For a lord and Lady must seem strong above all else. The weight on her shoulders must seem weightless to those of importance, that was one of many lessons struck into Rhaenella by her mother.

On the dawn of the ninth day Rhaenella visited her mother. After aiding in her care Rhaenella sits by her bedside rubbing the side of her mother’s face.

“Please wake up soon mother, I miss you.”

Rhaenella whispers to her. As Rhaenella leans away from her mother she silently looks and pleads for any sign of movement but finds none. Her shoulders sag with disappointment and sadness. Holding her tears and frustration back she leaves.

After, Rhaenella is dressed in a bronze and Arryn blue gown, she breaks her fast with cousin Gerold who informs her with today’s schedule which is mostly court hearings of both high and low born.

Rhaenella enters the throne hall standing center before the bronze throne. Looking at the throne it truly terrified her.

For she feared how much the weight set upon her would begin to weigh even more once she actually became Lady Royce. Turning away and looking down the hall Rhaenella truly wished to return to the time when she would hide on the upper balcony and watch her mother’s rule. How she missed those times now more than anything. Rhaenella is soon turned away from her feelings and memories for Ser Gerold entered followed by all attendants.

Rhaenella greets all and pushes aside all thoughts and climbs the steps to the bronze seat welded into its Dias glowing from the halo of three stained glass tapestries behind it. Seating herself she looks down one step from the Dias where Maester Corlin and her advisors sit. Two dark brown wood chairs on each side of the throne. Standing behind her is her septa and Gerold.

As their places are filled, low and high born alike enter through the hall. Shifting in her seat and straightening her back she calls court to start,

“Let us begin.”

At the end Rhaenella is drained for it took much longer to end than normally due to feuds between land owners and abnormaly poor feuds between lords.

Walking with her septa and cousin, they walk into the main hall that leads to the throne hall. As Rhaenella recounts court with Gerold overlooking her septa who fixes her appearance.

None hear the sound of rushing feet and gasping breaths. Lords Shett, coldwater and Tollett join them in preparation for the remaining schedule.

As Rhaenella laughs at a snide comment from Gerold due to a concerning recommendation from the three lords, she is interrupted by a squeal made by a Royce maid so lost in breath she shakes.

“What is the matter?” Rhaenella asks concerningly bringing the attention of all surrounding her. The maid curtsy’s quickly and gathers as much breathe as she can and quickly comes closer to her lady.

“My lady it is your mo-!”

As soon as the maid speaks she is outshined by a single phrase, freezing all.

“My Little Hawk.”

Rhaenella frozen in astonishment as she gazes up a flight of stairs to see her mother at the top. Rhaenella so frozen in heart and mind walks slowly to the staircase followed closely by Gerold and Milla.

As Rhea and Rhaenella meet each other’s gaze, a smile so loving gently forms on Rhea’s face.

“My one and only daughter, I am so sorry.” The smile that one graced her face is formed into despair.

Rhaenella who was overcome with happiness is now overwhelmed with confusion that then shifts to pure unabated horror. She watches as blood soon drips and then flows out of her mother’s nose and as tears flowed from her eyes. Time then slowed and noise became a mere muffle as she watched as maester Corlin tried running past her to her mother.

Only then to see her mother start to sway at the top. She met the eyes of her mother right then and to her complete and utter dread.

She watched the light fade from her mother’s eyes and watched her body that was once so strong, fall and tumble like a tree being felled.

All became muffled as Rhaenella is engulfed by the sensation of being in water. She looks around to see pure shock and horror, she watched as Gerold and Corlin make it to her mother’s body, she watches as her septa falls to the floor in disbelief & she watches as the rest huddle and move to the corners of the hall.

Soon looking back down at her mother’s body, she follows a trail of crimson to her feet. Rhaenella slowly moves a couple spaces back and is alarmed to see the blood follow her. As she realizes this, all the noise and pace of time is brought rushing back into her.

She clearly hears the beating of her heart, the sharp sound of her breathing followed by the cries and screams of those around her. Rhaenella then collapses to the floor staining her dress in the crimson that became an unwanted friend. She watches as the more they attempted to save and move her mother, the more blood came flowing out like a stuck pig, staining all it touched once more. Tears unknowingly flowed out of Rhaenella’s eyes as she soon become surround in the thick fluid. It all became too much, for Rhaenella was engulfed in every emotion imaginable.

Thoughts and memories sped through her mind at the speed of wind, making thinking impossible and overwhelming for the girl. Her head became a jumbled mess as she started at her mother, and her heart soon was broken by an unimaginable pain.

She felt as if someone ripped her chest wide open and broken all that was inside her. It all become too much for as this pain swallowed her up, all became dark.

The last thing she saw was that horrible red flowing like a curse.

Blood

Tagged: @a-curly-haired-girl

(Thank you all for the love and support for chapter 1 and hope you enjoyed chapter 2! If you’d like to be tagged LMK.)

[scout985]

love my squad

[boldstarks]

Dagmar Royce Character Profile

BRONZE STAR

name: Dagmar Royce

born: In the 3rd moon of 93 AC at Runestone (Age 39 in “The Black Queen”)

alias(es): Lady Dagmar, The Bronze Star of Runestone, Lady Royce, Lady Moore, Dagmar Moore, Dagmar Arryn

title(s): Lady of Runestone, Keeper of the Gates of the Moon (formerly)

religion: Faith of the Seven

culture: Valemen

significant other(s): Jason Moore (husband †), Addam Arryn

family: Yobert Royce (father †), Rhea Royce (half-sister †), Hugo Moore (son), Harlan Moore (son †), Elinor Arryn (daughter), Ser William Royce (cousin)

status: Alive

allegiance:  House Royce, House Moore, House Arryn (sworn overlord)

appearance(s): Bronze Star (Part I-III), My Tumblr Page

portrayed by: Laura Berlin

Extras Masterlist

[daenysthedreamer101]

HOTD Masterlist

General Masterlist

~ Daughter of Steel and Bronze (Targaryen!OC x Harwin Strong)

This is the story of Princess Daena Targaryen - daughter of the Rogue Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce. What role will she play in the impending doom of House Targaryen?

Follow along as she learns to navigate the complex life of the Red Keep, uncovers treacherous plots, falls victim to dangerous lies, and falls in love with the heir of Harrenhal.

Will she survive the Game of Thrones or perish as so many others did?

Moodboard

Character profile

Daena x Harwin

Prologue

Ch 1 - To King's Landing

Ch 2 - Claiming your birthright

Ch 3 - Dragonstone

Ch 4 - Blood of the Dragon

Ch 5 - Victory

Ch 6 - Gone with the Wind

Ch 7 - Loss of Innocence

Ch 8 - Crossroads

Ch 9 - Child no more

Ch 10 - Signs and Portents

Ch 11 - The comforts of home

Ch 12 - Hidden secrets

Ch 13 - Daughter's anguish

Ch 14 - Total Eclipse of the Heart

Ch 15 - To Mend a Broken Heart

Ch 16 - Succession

To be continued...

Depictions of Daena

Pt 1/ Pt 2 / Pt 3

Pt 4 / Pt 5 / Pt 6

Pt 7 / Pt 8 / Pt 9

Pt 10 / Pt 11

Secondary characters

Lady Amanda Royce

Ladies Joy and Hanna Strong

Lady Rowena Redfort

Rowena's reaction to Rhea's death

Daena's outfits

Pt 1

Pt 2

Headcanons

Daena's style

How Vermithor bonded to Daena

Daena's style during mourning

[papakhan]

Okay I'm tired of working on this so here. Based on me fucking up a jump and dying to red cloud in front of Christine while playing Dead Money <3

[barghest-ripperdoc]

Scary dog privilege.

This is Rourke, most Malestrom folks call him Rolls because Rolls-Royce, the car company, get it?

[dammarchy211]

Obligatory rocking House’s shit that I started in April and didn’t finish til July oops. The Joshua Graham fit was just for in game accuracy you’re never gonna see Gazer in that again.