#second battle of tumbleton

[stromuprisahat]

At moonrise the riverlords abandoned the field to the carrion crows, fading back into the hills. One of them, the boy Ben Blackwood, carried with him the broken body of Ser Addam Velaryon, found dead beside his dragon. His bones would rest at Raventree Hall for eight years, but in 138 AC his brother, Alyn, would have them returned to Driftmark and entombed in Hull, the town of his birth. On his tomb is engraved a single word: LOYAL. Its ornate letters are supported by carvings of a seahorse and a mouse.

Fire and Blood (George R. R. Martin)

[prodogg]

I was listening to the Blood & Fire Audiobook on YT yesterday and the second battle of Tumbleton always left me with some questions that came up again. Why was there no Nights watch for the camp that could have alerted the great Hightower host about the 4000 men strong Rivermen army. It was night so it's not like Addam could have easily spotted any scouts via Seasmoke in the sky. Also why wasn't Daeron and the other lords set up inside the city and behind the walls, idk maybe he wanted to stay with his camp but staying inside the city was clearly better since Ulf and Hugh did survive Seasmoke's assault. It's objectively smarter to set up camp around and in the city, but the most baffling is for me again that there was no watch to alert the camp and hightower host, 4k man is not a small number of people and in the book it is said that the attackers were already in the camp when most even just registered that they were attacked. Anyways that were just some thoughts I that I had swirling around in my head and I hope to see the dragon brawl in the show.

[waitingforsecretsouls]

The Death of Daeron the Daring

This post (please go read it, it is very interesting and the first half of it inspired this one, which is essentially just an elaboration on it from my perspective) made me go back and actually re-read the part of Fire & Blood about the second battle of Tumbleton and it honestly became kind of obvious very quickly that the story itself is not-so-subtly prodding you as the reader that ‘hey, something doesn’t add up about Daeron being out of the picture for the actual battle’. First of all because after the various theories about his early demise-taken out by a common soldier not far from his tent or by his own burning tent itself collapsing- you immediately get the footnote (not the exact wording of the original, since I only have my translation of F&B at hand):

* However Daeron Targaryen might have died, it’s unquestionable that the youngest son of King Viserys I and Queen Alicent fell in the Second Battle of Tumbleton. The false princes that appeared during the reign of Aegon III and used his name were all irrefutably exposed as frauds.

That’s a glaring ‘in your face’ neon sign that you probably can’t trust any of the theories given that prompt the footnote in the first place. And as if that wasn’t enough, not even half a page later you get the information that, unlike Silverwing and Vermithor who were roaming outside of the city walls to fly as they pleased and slept in fields south of the city, Tessarion herself ‘slept and ate in prince Daerons camp west of the city, less than a hundred paces from his pavilion.’

While this observation by itself does not form an ironclad argument, it does already open a few questions: while one can still argue that that’s still enough distance for an enemy soldier to get Daeron, it would make said enemy the prime first target of Tessarions vengeance, and given her closeness very reachable via her fire. Maybe Daeron stood between them? But if someone killed her rider right in front of her, Tessarion would certainly retaliate and it would be strange of the historians to omitt this. It also likely would have drawn her into a battle on the ground similar to Vermithor, with ever renewed swarms of enemy soldiers poking at her, making piroritizing them over starting a completely new (and arguably unprovoked) battle with Seasmoke in the skies the natural course of action in the interest of self-defense. And even unmolested and unprovoked by ground troops, if rising into the skies, why fight at all and not abscond, as Silverwing does , whose rider is unavailable for the duration of the battle? Since it was Seasmoke that started setting fire to the greens, it was likely Addams fault that Daerons tent burned and is said to have possible collapsed on top of him, and so Tessarion would take vengeance on the one who indirectly killed her rider. However, besides feeling a bit weak and far-fetched, and keeping in mind the footnote observation, I’m going to disregard it as an argument, an argument further weakened by observing the further course of the battle.

Because the inconsistencies, often hinted at by the narrator himself, do not end just yet. The second eye-catching detail (as mentioned in the linked post) is the battle between Tessarion and Addam and Seasmoke. Its is pre-faced by a note on how typical dragon-on-dragon conflicts relied on said dagons claws and teeth due to their growing immunity to fire with age (as we do see in the other battles during the dance, where fire is used but often more as a threat towards the riders (seen in the heavy burns of Aegon ii and Rhaenys, for example), and the one reported instance in the Sunfyre-Moondancer confrontation, where the former temporarily blinded the latter (and burned Baela), with the dragons biting and clawing into each other before crashing) , but that such was not the case for the battle between Tessarion and Seasmoke (same disclaimer as above, my amateurish attempt at re-translating back to English, ergo don’t expect the same wording as the original).

‘The battle between Tessarion and Seasmoke proceeded completely different. The historians call the conflict between King Aegon II. and his half-sister Rhaenyra the Dance of Dragons, but only in Tumbleton did the dragons truly dance. Tessarion and Seasmoke were both young dragons, that could move more swiftly in the air than their two older relatives. Again and again they rushed towards each other, only to then evade in the last moment. They hovered like eagles and dove downward, they circled each other and snapped and roared and spat fire, but didn’t get too close to each other. Once the Blue Queen disappeared in a cloud, reappeared in the next moment, swooped down on Seasmoke from behind and singed his tail with cobalt-blue flame. Seasmoke rolled around, evaded, and flew a loop. In a flash he was under his opponent, suddenly turned away, and was behind her. Higher and higher climbed the two dragons in the light of dawn. From the roofs of Tumbleton hundreds watched them. One of these observers later said, the flight of Tessarion and Seasmoke had resembled a wedding-dance rather than a battle. And maybe that’s how it was.’

The first and most important observation to make is that there is no obvious distinction between the movements and tactics of the supposed riderless Tessarion and very much ridden and steered Seasmoke. Both dragons are described as manneuvering elegantly, quickly and tactical, yet cautious. From everything we have seen, this does not fit the behaviour of a riderless dragon in battle. While dragons are certainly not self-destructive and do have a sense of self-preservation....in everything we see that sense of survival is quickly tossed aside once their fury is roused and they enter battle (admittedly, with the exception of Dreamfyre, who tried to escape the dragon pit. However, this might well simply fall under the second observed behaviour, avoiding the battle altogether). Vermithor might well have tried to fly away and join Silverwing up in the clouds, away from the battle, however, disposing of his attackers was more important. What could and should have been Tessarions reason for this strategic battle, if she only rose out of fury and battle-lust, or to avenger her rider? Why would she completely depart from dragons observed and natural ways of fighting each other? Whereas it makes much more sense to me for Daeron to engage the hostile dragon rider out of necessity but select a very careful approach to battle, maybe for reason of Tessarions comparatively small size and youth among the remaining dragons (she would have been the smallest except for Moondancer), meaning in a straight-up clash she would not be able to triumph, and the knowledge of the importance of her to his cause, especially regarding the potential trouble with Ulf and Hugh (the latter of whom he would not yet know to be succesfully eliminated), and to face Rhaenyras remaining dragons (whom he would not yet know to be eliminated) (as an aside, shoutout to Addam and Daeron for being the most sensible riders of the dance. Genuinely seems like the size of their dragons immediately made everyone else select the most likely ‘we both loose’ strategy of initiating a crash). Everything previously written spells it out, but to make it clear: the observation of seeming like a wedding dance can be safely dismissed, for one because the dragons were actually fighting each other and the comment is only meant to enhance the observation that it was the one dragon battle of the dance that consisted of elegant maneuvering in the air, ‘dancing’, and secondly because there’s no reason Addam Velaryon would have wasted time entertaining his dragon while beneath him an actual battle was raging, which included Vermithor attacking everyone in sight.

It is after the end of the above quote that Vermithor rises into the air to more efficiently deal with his attackers and Addam leads Seasmoke to attack him in order to save his men (and everyone else Vermithor would have attacked). In sharp contrast to the battle with Tessarion (in which both could rely on a cautious opponent) he switches back to the strategy observed during most of the dance, diving for Vermithor and forcefully crashlanding him only for the battle to continue on the ground.

‘This was no dance but a life-or-death battle. Vermithor flew not even twenty paces above the battle, when Seasmoke fell on him from above and pressed him screaming into the mud. Men and boys fled in horror or were crushed under both of the tossing and turning dragons snapping for each other. Tails slammed, wings beat against the air, but the beasts had clawed at each other so deeply that neither one could  break free. [...] Seasmoke could under no circumstances have defeated Vermithor due to his size and weight [...] and Vermithor would certainly have ripped the silvergrey dragon apart....if not in that exact moment Tessarion had swooped down and had thrown herself into the fight. Wo can know know what goes on in the heart of a dragon? Did the Blue Queen let herself get pushed to attack? Or did she want to assist one of the fighters? And if such was the case, which of them? Some claim the bond between dragon and rider reaches so deep that the animal shares the love and hate of its master. But who here was the ally and who was the enemy? Can a riderless dragon differentiate between friend and foe? The answers to these questions we’ll probably never find. The historiography only tells us that the three dragons fought against each other amidst the Second Battle of Tumbleton, in mud and blood and smoke.’

We do see some of the questions posed in examining Daerons demise in this section of the text: can a riderless dragon differentiate between friend and foe? My answer certainly leans towards no rather than yes. It also (as already argued in the linked post, seriously, do go read it so that I don’t feel like plagiarizing its point) would make a riderless Tessarion both unecessarily reckless (her opponent ditched her, facing certain death, she could simply fly away) (unless one takes the speculation about sharing love and hate of her already presented as deceased rider as fond feelings toward Addam from Daerons side (which begs the question when and where they would have even met each other before the dance or, unless I’m overlooking something, even before this very battle), which I, besides nice material for fanfic, don’t really see) and selfless and honorable to the extreme, throwing herself at a raging Vermithor said to be thrice her size to stop his rampage. While I do like Daeron I just don’t see his bond with Tessarion as reaching that deeply beyond death. Far more sensible, Daeron as well realizes Vermithor is becoming the greatest risk factor towards everyone in this battle and tries to aid Addam in killing him (maybe also trying to get ridd of Addam and Seasmoke in the process), probably dying alongside Addam (unless one wants to argue for his survival beyond this battle, which is very interesting but given his close allegiance to his family makes no sense to me, certainly he would have rejoined them, after Aegons return to kingslanding at the latest).

However, one might argue, if such was the presumed end of Daeron the Daring (worthy of the epithet), how come the writing goes to such lenghts to obscure his bravery and skill, instead attributing it to his dragon alone, in contrast to Addam? Besides the pseudo-historiographical nature of Fire & Blood, regardless of how succesfull one believes George to have pulled that off, I would argue that the key factor here (besides being used to the advantage of possible in universe receptors of the history) is actually the contrast between Addam and Daeron. I’m not gonna include the quotes, because I do want to get this thing done, but the second battle of Tumbleton presents Addam as thee star player of his team, the legitimized bastard flying off to prove his loyalty to Rhaenyra in the face of her mistrust and scorn, dying to save his men from the rampaging largest surviving dragon in the realm, and ‘saving’ KL from the Greens- how much would his actions be diminished if it turns out Daeron mirrored them to a T? And Addam wasn’t the only valiant hero in this battle?

I’m not gonna tackle the question of ‘anti-Green bias’ or ‘anti-Black bias’ in this, both bc this post is not about that and because that would require a more extensive re-read of the material, but I do feel comfortable in claiming that Daeron in this case is deliberately snubbed, with just enough hints to make out more of what truly occured.

[addamvelaryon]

Alone of the four dragons on the field that day, Seasmoke had a rider. Ser Addam Velaryon had come to prove his loyalty by destroying the Two Betrayers and their dragons, and here was one beneath him, attacking the men who had joined him for this fight. He must have felt duty bound to protect them, though surely he knew in his heart that his Seasmoke could not match the older dragon. This was no dance, but a fight to the death.

Artist: Jota Saraiva (deviantart/instagram)

[zoya-nazyalenskys]

Am I the only one who thinks cutting Nettles is a good idea? I have a much easier time believing Daemon would suddenly grow a conscience about the daughter he neglected than a teenager he met a few weeks ago even if we was having sex with her. Daemon has been established to throw everybody under the bus for Rhaenyra (and previously Viserys) so you need something big in order to buy he would betray her. More over we forgetting God's Eye is only 8-10 episodes away that's not a lot of time to set up and do that whole plot anyway it would feel rushed.

on one hand i do agree that replacing rhaena with nettles does make sense, it actually gives rhaena a storyline and as you said it adds depth to daemon's character to sacrifice everything for his daughter instead of an underage lover

but on the other hand i do think it's also absolutely vile considering nettles is the only canonically black character in the book and swapping her with another black girl feels super racist, especially considering condal spent all that time in s2 establishing hugh hammer and his pointless ass family but he doesn't have time to include the one (actually plot relevant) black girl? extremely yikes

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

HotD seems a bit kinder to Ser Otto and Queen Alicent and now even Ser Gwayne. Granted the Hightowers we meet in the main story are only just briefly mentioned by other characters, but what do hear of them like Leyton or Lynesse aren't that great. The Lannister get a lot of (not undeserved) flack from within the fandom, but are under-the-radar terrible as Houses like the Lannisters or even the Freys or Boltons?

I wouldn't say HOTD is kinder to the Hightowers, as much as it allows them to be real people and not just historical caricatures or empty shells. (The biggest failure of F&B's history book conceit, more than any of the other problems with that book.)

For example, Gwayne in the book gets assigned to the Gold Cloaks to keep an eye on them in case some are still loyal to Daemon, and then during the Fall of King's Landing gets murked by his own men because indeed they are still loyal to Daemon. That's it, that's all there is to him, there's no there there. (Although the "You turncloaks!" "Daemon gave us these cloaks and they're gold no matter how you turn them." is a great line, and I hope it's kept even if Gwayne may not be involved.)

Gwayne in the show, however, is a prissy classist racist aristocrat, who is still brave in battle and protective of his sister and caring for his nephew; he's a knight who helps depict GRRM's knighthood themes with Criston; he's an actual person, both good and bad as a GRRM character should be. I have hopes that Gwayne takes the Ser Hobert Hightower role for the Caltrops and Second Tumbleton, that would be a great ending (especially considering his relationship with Daeron) for an excellent actor.

Re the main story Hightowers -- well, generally GRRM goes by Tolstoy's principle of "All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." Or as he put it, "happy families are boring." Not everyone always gets along in real families, and even the most beloved king and queen can be real assholes to their daughters. I imagine that when we actually meet Leyton in TWOW and find out exactly how complicated his family is -- four wives and ten children, you know there's friction there -- we'll see something imperfect, but different from the Lannisters, Freys, or Boltons. Maybe more dysfunctional the way Cregan Stark's family was dysfunctional or the Tyrells are dysfunctional. (If you think they're a perfectly happy family, then you entirely missed Olenna's relationship with Mace, Mace's relationship with Willas and Loras, Mace's relationship with Margaery, Olenna's relationship with Alerie, and so on and so forth.)

I can see Leyton as a patriarch who became increasingly distant as he got more into esoteric research (he hasn't come down from the top of the Hightower in more than a decade), leaving the eldest son Baelor to manage everything practical in the absence of his father. Was Leyton already half-distant the year before he stopped leaving the Hightower, and that's why he let his youngest daughter (only 16 or 17 years old) marry a newly knighted 35-year-old poor-ass lord from the back of beyond just because he did well in a tourney? How did the rest of the family react to that? The people of Oldtown don't think much of Lynesse now, but how did they feel when their young golden lady was taken away by a bear? These kinds of complicated relationships are the sort of detail GRRM loves to sink his teeth into, and is one of the reasons I'm so looking forward to Sam's Oldtown chapters almost more than anything in TWOW.

[kckt88]

The Lost Dragon XIV - Lingering.

Summary:

Aemond and Vaelys have returned to Kings Landing to attend a celebration in honour of their son's birth, Aemond takes an instant dislike to Cregan and later he reveals his deepest fear.

Warning(s): Nightmare, Angst, Apology, Language, Insults, Jealousy, Possessive, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Smut -Breeding Kink, Lactation Kink, P in V, Proposal.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 5788

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9

The skies ablaze with dragon fire and the air thick with the scent of death. Aemond watched helplessly as Vhagar, burst through the clouds and devoured Lucerys.

His heart heavy with sorrow, Aemond watched as Helaena Targaryen, was forced to make an impossible choice— Jaehaerys or Maelor? His heart breaking at his sweet sisters scream of anguish as her son was killed.

The scene shifted, and Aemond found himself standing in the courtyard of the Red Keep, surrounded by the sound of the desperate pleas from prisoners. His hands, slick with blood, trembled as he carried out executions with ruthless efficiency, each blow a painful reminder of the cost of war.

The funeral of his nephew, his body wrapped in the shroud hand stitched by Helaena, his little hand clutching his favourite dragon toy.

His own decent into darkness, the cold grip of ruthlessness had seized him and refused to let go.

And then, the fall of Princess Rhaenys and her dragon Meleys at the Battle of Rook's Rest—the gruesome bloody show of the dragon’s severed head paraded through the streets of Kings Landing.

His brother Aegon, injured and vulnerable-as Aemond found himself being crowned Prince Regent, tasked with ruling in his absence.

Alys Rivers, the witch of Harrenhal-her eyes dark and inscrutable as she beckoned to him with a knowing smile. Aemond was drawn to her, unable to resist the magnetic pull of her presence.

As they drew closer, the nightmare twisted into a grotesque parody of intimacy, with Alys wrapping herself around him in a macabre dance of seduction. Aemond's heart pounded in his chest as he watched himself become ensnared in her web, his every instinct screaming for him to break free, to flee from the darkness that threatened to consume him.

But in the nightmare's cruel grip, Aemond was powerless to resist, his will subsumed by the allure of desire and pleasure. And in the throes of passion, he surrendered to the darkness, his actions driven by impulses he could neither comprehend nor control.

As the nightmare continued to unfold, Aemond watched in horror as Alys grew round with his bastard-a son with no name.

Then he saw her-Vaelys, her eyes wide with fear as he stood before her, his own hands wrapped around her throat. He watched in horror as his grip tightened, squeezing the life from her with a brutality that tore at his soul.

The dark version of him, had no love for her-in this world she had been responsible for the death of his brother Daeron, unflinching as she bathed him in dragon fire during the second battle of Tumbleton.  

"No-" Aemond's voice broke, a strangled cry escaping his lips as he recoiled from the sight before him. But in the depths of his nightmare, there was no escape, no respite from the anguish that consumed him.

As Vaelys' lifeless form crumpled to the ground, a primal scream tore from Aemond's throat.

His nephew Maelor torn apart by a mob of common folk, the decent of his siter into madness and her fall from the window’s of Maegor’s Holdfast.

In the skies above the God's Eye, the air crackling with the energy of impending battle. He felt the familiar rush of adrenaline course through his veins as he soared through the clouds astride Vhagar.

But his exhilaration was tinged with dread as he spotted the silhouette of another dragon, its massive wingspan blotting out the sun. It was Caraxes, ridden by his uncle Daemon, a formidable adversary with a reputation for ferocity and skill.

As the dragons clashed in a deadly dance of fire and fury, Aemond felt a cold knot of fear tighten in his chest. The air rang with the deafening roar of their flames, the ground below a blur as they circled each other in a deadly game of cat and mouse.

Aemond's heart pounded in his chest as he urged Vhagar onward, his mind consumed by a primal instinct to survive at any cost. But as he looked up, his eyes widening in terror, he saw something that chilled him to the bone-a flash of steel glinting in the sunlight, the deadly point of Dark Sister, his uncle's legendary Valyrian steel sword, aimed straight at him.

With a strangled cry of horror, Aemond tried to veer away, to escape the deadly trajectory of the blade. But it was too late, he felt the sharp point of Dark Sister pierce his remaining eye, driving through flesh and bone, agony engulfing him as the blade tore through his skull, its tip emerging from the back of his throat.

With a gasp, Aemond jolted awake, his heart racing in his chest as he struggled to shake off the lingering tendrils of the nightmare. Beside him, Vaelys stirred, her presence a comforting anchor in the darkness.

Trembling, Aemond reached out to her, his fingers tangling in the soft strands of her silver hair as he pulled her close, seeking solace in the warmth of her embrace.

As the dawn's light filtered through the windows of their old chambers in Kings Landing, Vaelys watched with a heavy heart as Aemond stirred fitfully in his sleep. She could see the lines of worry etched upon his brow, the restless toss and turn of his body betraying the torment of his nightmares.

With a sigh, Vaelys reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from Aemond's forehead, her touch light and soothing against his skin. "Aemond," she murmured softly, her voice a gentle caress in the stillness of the morning, "You haven't been sleeping well. Your nightmares-are troubling you."

Aemond's eye fluttered open, the weariness evident as he gazed up at Vaelys with a mixture of gratitude and resignation. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "I can't seem to escape them, no matter how hard I try."

Vaelys' heart ached at the sight of her husband's anguish, the weight of his nightmares a burden she could scarcely bear. "You don't have to face them alone, Aemond," she reassured him, her voice filled with quiet determination. "I'm here for you, always. We'll face them together."

With a tender smile, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close in a comforting embrace. "We'll find a way to ease your troubled mind," she promised, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Whatever it takes."

"Aemond, perhaps the maesters could offer something to help with your sleep," she suggested softly, her voice laced with a mixture of hope and apprehension. "Maybe some dreamwine, to ease the burden of your nightmares."

Aemond's expression softened at her suggestion, a flicker of gratitude crossing his weary features. "It's worth a try," he conceded, his voice tinged with a note of resignation. "Anything to find some relief.”

"I'll speak with Maester Garrick, when we return to Dragonstone-but for now you must try and get some rest" said Vaelys, her voice filled with resolve.

Aemond turned to her, his gaze filled with gratitude and weariness. "I'll try, Vaelys," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But the nightmares-"

Vaelys shook her head, her eyes filled with determination. "You don't have to face them alone," she assured him, her voice firm yet gentle. "Let me be your anchor in the storm”.

With a sigh, Aemond nodded, allowing himself to relax into her embrace. As Vaelys wrapped her arms around him, she felt the tension drain from his body, his breaths slowing as he surrendered to the comfort of her touch.

Gently, she began to stroke his hair, her fingers tracing soothing patterns against his scalp. "Close your eyes, my love," she murmured, her voice a tender lullaby in the darkness. "I'll be right here beside you, every step of the way."

As Vaelys continued to stroke Aemond's hair, she felt the tension gradually ebb from his body, his breathing growing slow and steady against her chest. With each gentle caress, she whispered words of comfort and reassurance, her voice a soothing balm against the turmoil of his troubled mind.

And then, gradually, almost imperceptibly, she felt Aemond begin to relax into sleep's embrace. His eyelid fluttered closed; his features softened by the peace of slumber.

Vaelys held him close, her heart overflowing with love and gratitude for the man who had captured her heart. She pressed a tender kiss to his forehead, silently vowing to stand by him ,to be his rock in times of storm and his beacon of light in the darkest of nights.

As Aemond finally succumbed to sleep's gentle embrace, Vaelys felt a sense of profound relief wash over her. In his arms, she found solace and strength, a sanctuary from the cares of the world.

And as she held him close, nestled in the warmth of their shared embrace, she knew that together, they could face whatever challenges lay ahead, united in the unbreakable bond of their love. With a whispered prayer for peaceful dreams, Vaelys closed her own eyes.

As Aemond watched Vaelys gracefully slipping into her light red gown, his breath caught in his throat, stunned anew by her radiant beauty. The delicate fabric hugged her curves, the colour complementing the warmth of her skin, and he found himself unable to tear his gaze away.

"Vaelys," he murmured, his voice tinged with awe, "You look absolutely breathtaking."

Vaelys turned to him, a soft smile playing at the corners of her lips as she caught the admiration in his eyes. "Thank you, my love," she replied, her voice a melodic whisper. "I wanted to look my best for the celebration."

Aemond couldn't help but chuckle at her modesty, a warmth spreading through his chest at the sight of her. "Well, you've certainly succeeded," he said, his tone affectionate.

Vaelys laughed, the sound like music to his ears as she stepped closer, her hand reaching out to trace the line of his jaw.

Aemond's heart swelled with love for the woman before him, his fingers intertwining with hers as he drew her into his embrace.

And as they shared a tender moment together, bathed in the soft glow of their love, Aemond knew that there was no greater treasure in the world than his wife.

Vaelys met Aemond's gaze with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, her lips curling into a playful smile. "And what of your beauty husband" she teased, her voice laced with affectionate sarcasm, "I know there are ladies at court who will glance at my husband. With his long flowing silver hair, his reputation as a great swordsman, and let's not forget, the rider of the largest dragon in the world."

Aemond chuckled at her jest, a warm glow of pride spreading through him at her words. "Ah, yes," he replied, a hint of amusement in his tone, “They can look all they want but they'll quickly learn that my heart belongs to only one."

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "And she's standing right in front of me," he added, his voice filled with sincerity. "The most beautiful woman in all the Seven Kingdoms."

Vaelys' cheeks flushed with colour at his words, her heart swelling with love for the man who had captured her heart. "Flatterer," she teased, but her eyes sparkled with genuine affection as she leaned into his embrace.

As they made their way through the quiet hallways of the Red Keep, Aemond couldn't shake the sense of unease that gnawed at him. He could feel the tension radiating from Vaelys beside him, her usual poise marred by the weight of their surroundings.

He stole a glance at her, taking in the furrow of her brow and the tightness of her jaw, and he knew without a doubt what troubled her. This was the first time she had set foot in King's Landing since the argument with her mother, Queen Rhaenyra—a rift that still lingered between them, a wound not easily healed.

But this celebration, in honour of their son Aemon, demanded their presence, and Aemond understood the necessity of putting on a united front for the sake of their family. Still, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt at the discomfort it caused Vaelys.

"Are you alright, my love?" he asked softly, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand. "I know this must be difficult for you."

Vaelys offered him a small, reassuring smile, though he could see the tension still lingering in her eyes. "I'll manage," she replied, her voice tinged with resignation. "For Aemon's sake."

As Aemond and Vaelys entered the grand throne room of the Red Keep, the opulence of the surroundings seemed to fade into the background, overshadowed by the warmth and joy that filled the air. Aemond cradled their son, Aemon, in his arms, the babe’s amethyst eyes wide with wonder.

Vaelys walked beside him, her hand intertwined with those of their other children, Sovia, and Daevyn, who beamed up at their parents with excitement.

The room was alive with music and laughter, the sound of lively conversation mingling with the strains of a cheerful melody. Tables laden with sumptuous food and drink lined the walls, inviting guests to partake in the feast laid out before them.

“Vaelys-over here” said Helaena brightly as he patted the empty chair next to her.

“Hel-where are the children?” asked Vaelys as she sat down.

“Daeron has taken them to visit my mother-“

At the mention of Alicent, Vaelys looked at Aemond who busied himself with making sure Aemon was covered with his blanket.

“She keeps asking for him” whispered Helaena.

“It’s Aemonds choice-” replied Vaelys.

“I know-“ muttered Helaena softly.

“Sovia-please don’t do that” scolded Vaelys as she caught her daughter pulling at the ribbons in her braided hair.

“But mama-” complained Sovia pursing her lips together.

“Listen to your mother byka grēges” said Aemond (Little bug).

“Daddy-nyke ȳdra daor raqagon ziry” replied Sovia (I don’t like it).

Vaelys smiled slightly as she took a sip of wine, any minute now Aemond would cave in and undo the braids in their daughters hair. Her silver curls had always been wild, and she barely tolerated anyone even brushing her hair.

Rider of the mighty Vhagar weak for his daughter.

“Let me take them out then” muttered Aemond handing Aemon to Helaena so he could lift Sovia onto his knee.

“Avy jorrāelan” whispered Sovia (I love you).

“Softie” whispered Vaelys as Aemond rolled his eye as he began undoing Sovia’s braids.

As the revelry filled the throne room, Queen Rhaenyra rose from her seat at the head of the room, her presence commanding the attention of all who gathered there. Her gaze swept over the assembled guests, her expression one of regal pride and affection.

"My lords and ladies," she called out, her voice ringing clear above the din of conversation, "I would ask you to raise your glasses in honour of a joyous occasion—a celebration of new life and boundless hope."

As the room fell silent, all eyes turned to the queen, their attention captured by her words. With a graceful flourish, Rhaenyra lifted her goblet high, the golden liquid within catching the light as it sparkled in the dimly lit room.

"To Prince Aemon Targaryen, my grandson" she declared, her voice filled with warmth and sincerity, "May his future be as bright as the flame of his ancestors, and may he bring honour and glory to House Targaryen for generations to come."

With that, Rhaenyra took a sip from her goblet, the sound of applause erupting around her as the guests followed suit, offering their own toasts to the newest member of their family.

As Rhaenyra's toast echoed through the grand hall, Vaelys raised her goblet with a strained smile, her eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions. The weight of the past argument with her mother still hung heavy in her heart, casting a shadow over the joyous occasion.

Sensing her discomfort, Aemond reached out beneath the table, his hand finding hers in a comforting gesture of solidarity. Their fingers intertwined, a silent reassurance passing between them as they shared a moment of quiet understanding amidst the revelry.

As the festivities continued to swirl around them, Vaelys felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, drawing her attention to her brother, Jace, who stood beside her with a warm smile.

"Vaelys," he said, extending his hand to her, "Would you do me the honour of sharing a dance with your dear brother?"

Vaelys returned his smile, her heart lightening at the sight of him. "Of course, Jace," she replied, placing her hand in his with affectionate familiarity. "I'd be delighted."

Together, they made their way to the centre of the room, where couples twirled and spun to the music. Jace guided Vaelys with practiced ease, their steps falling into rhythm with the lilting melody that filled the air.

Vaelys smiled up at her brother, grateful for this moment of connection amidst the whirlwind of the celebration.

As they danced, they talked about their children, Jace giddy with excitement as he spoke of his daughter Laena, a precious little thing she was, the pearl of his world.

Out of the corner of her eye, Vaelys spied their brother Luke reclined lazily against his chair, he looked rather exhausted, but given the fact that his wife Rheana had recently birthed twin girls, it made sense.

“Mayhaps Luke should retire for the night” laughed Jace.

“Oh, come on brother-you know what the nights are like with a babe” replied Vaelys smiling.

Jace returned her smile, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "I think you look beautiful tonight, Vaelys," he said, his voice filled with brotherly pride.

Vaelys' heart swelled with love for her brother, her own smile widening at his words. "Thank you, Jace," she replied, her voice soft with emotion.

As the music swirled through the grand hall, a familiar figure caught Vaelys' eye—Cregan, his tall dark form standing out amidst the throng of guests. With a warm smile, he approached her, his gaze earnest as he cleared his throat.

"Princess," he began, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of nervousness, "Would you do me the honour of sharing a dance with an old friend?"

Vaelys' smile widened at the sight of him, her heart lifting at the prospect of dancing with Cregan once more. "Of course, Cregan," she replied, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "I'd be delighted."

As they embraced in a brief hug, Vaelys felt a surge of happiness at seeing her friend again after so long. The bond they had shared during their time together had always held a special place in her heart, and she was grateful for this chance to reconnect.

Together, they stepped onto the dance floor, their movements fluid and graceful as they moved to the rhythm of the music.

As Vaelys danced and conversed with Cregan, a sense of lightness and joy enveloped her, temporarily shielding her from the weight of her worries. However, as she glanced over her shoulder towards Aemond, her heart sank at the sight of his furious expression.

Aemond's gaze was fixed on her, his features contorted with anger. Vaelys' stomach churned with apprehension as she felt the tension radiating from him, a sharp contrast to the warmth she had felt dancing with Cregan.

Concern etched into her features, Vaelys excused herself from her conversation with Cregan, her steps faltering slightly as she made her way towards her husband. She approached him cautiously, her heart heavy with worry.

"Aemond," she murmured softly, reaching out to touch his arm, "Is everything alright?"

Aemond's jaw clenched visibly as he tore his gaze away from her, his anger palpable in the air between them. "Was that Cregan Stark?" he demanded, his voice low and tense.

Vaelys swallowed hard, her throat dry with apprehension. "Yes-“ she replied, her voice tinged with unease.

Aemond's expression darkened further at her words, his fists clenched at his sides. "I don't like the way he was looking at you," he growled, his voice barely more than a harsh whisper.

Vaelys' heart sank at the realization of Aemond's jealousy, a pang of hurt piercing her chest. She had never seen him like this before, consumed by such irrational rage.

"Aemond, please," she pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation. "There's nothing between us. He's just a friend."

But Aemond's fury remained unabated, his gaze unwavering as he continued to glare at her with undisguised resentment.

“A friend that you were almost betrothed too”.

"Aemond, please," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "Cregan was a good friend to me while you were in exile. He offered me support and companionship when I needed it most. There was nothing more between us, I swear."

Aemond's jaw clenched, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. "Oh, I'm sure he was a good friend," he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But just how good of a friend was he, Vaelys?"

His words struck her like a blow, and Vaelys felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. The insinuation that she had been unfaithful to him cut her to the core.

"Aemond, how can you say that?" she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "You know that I would never betray you. You are the only one I love."

But Aemond remained unmoved, his expression hardened by suspicion. "Forgive me if I find that hard to believe," he retorted, his voice laced with bitterness.

“You know what believe what you want” snarled Vaelys as she turned on her heel and stormed out of the throne room.

After entrusting the care of the children to Ceci, Aemond went to find Vaelys.

Lost in his thoughts, he rounded a corner and nearly collided with Cregan, who stood before him with a cool expression. Aemond's jaw tensed at the sight of him, his possessive instincts flaring to life in an instant.

"What are you doing here?" Aemond demanded, his voice sharp with suspicion.

Cregan raised an eyebrow, his demeanour calm but tinged with a hint of challenge. "I could ask you the same question," he replied evenly. "But I suppose it's none of my concern."

Aemond's grip tightened on his fists, his jealousy simmering just beneath the surface. "Don't play games with me, Stark," he growled. "I know what you're up to."

Cregan's gaze hardened, his own temper beginning to fray. "And what, pray tell, am I up to?" he shot back, his voice laced with frustration.

"You're trying to come between me and Vaelys," Aemond accused, his words laced with venom. "But let me make one thing clear—she's mine, and I won't let anyone take her from me."

Cregan's eyes flashed with anger at the implication, his own temper flaring in response. "I have no interest in your wife, Aemond," he snapped, his voice sharp with indignation. "But if you can't see past your own insecurities, that's your problem, not mine."

The tension crackled between them, a palpable force that seemed to fill the corridor with its intensity. Aemond glared at Cregan, his chest heaving with fury and frustration, while Cregan met his gaze with unyielding defiance, refusing to back down in the face of his aggression.

As Aemond's anger simmered, he glared at Cregan, his possessiveness over Vaelys flaring to life with renewed intensity. "Don't try to deny it," he spat, his voice thick with resentment. "I know you were close to her when I was in exile. You think I don't see the way you look at her?"

Cregan's expression hardened, his jaw clenching with frustration at Aemond's accusations. "You're mistaken, Aemond," he replied evenly, his tone firm. "Yes, Vaelys and I were friends during your absence. But our relationship was purely platonic. I care for her deeply, but not in the way you seem to think."

Aemond scoffed, his disbelief palpable. "Forgive me if I find that hard to believe," he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You were practically betrothed once. What's to stop you from trying to steal her away from me now?"

Cregan's gaze softened, his frustration giving way to pity. "Aemond, you don't understand," he said, his voice tinged with sadness. "Yes, Vaelys and I were once almost betrothed, but that was long ago. We've both moved on since then. I befriended her during your exile because she needed support, not because I had any ulterior motives."

Aemond's jaw clenched, his jealousy still burning bright despite Cregan's assurances. "And yet, here you are," he shot back, his tone accusatory. "Hovering around her like a vulture, waiting for your chance to swoop in."

"Do you realize what you've done, Aemond?" he demanded, his tone biting. "This celebration was supposed to be for your son, a joyous occasion to celebrate his birth. But your jealousy has ruined it."

Aemond's jaw tensed, his own anger flaring at Cregan's words. "I am not jealous," he shot back, his voice defensive. "I just-I want to protect what's mine."

Cregan scoffed, his disbelief evident. "Protect what's yours?" he mocked; his tone laced with scorn. "From whom, exactly? Me? The truth is, Aemond, your insecurity is what's driving a wedge between you and Vaelys. And frankly, it's pathetic."

Aemond's fists clenched at his sides, his temper flaring at Cregan's taunts. "You have no right to judge me," he retorted, his voice sharp with indignation. "You don't know anything about our relationship."

Cregan's lips curled into a sneer, his contempt for Aemond evident in his gaze. "Oh, I think I know plenty," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "After all, when one has to kidnap a woman in order for her to marry him, then your insecurity can't be helped."

Aemond's eye widened in shock at the barb, his face flushing with embarrassment and rage. He opened his mouth to respond but found himself speechless in the face of Cregan's cutting words.

With a final look of disdain, Cregan turned and walked away, leaving Aemond seething with anger and humiliation. And as Aemond stood alone in the empty corridor, the weight of his own insecurities pressed down upon him like a leaden cloak.

As Aemond stormed through the corridors of the Red Keep, his heart heavy with regret and determination, he searched frantically for Vaelys. Every step echoed in the empty halls, a stark reminder of the chasm that had opened between them.

Finally, he found her in the library, her form illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight. She was engrossed in conversation with her brother, Luke, their heads bent close together in whispered conversation.

With a sense of urgency, Aemond approached them, his footsteps echoing in the quiet room. Vaelys looked up as he drew near, her expression guarded as she met his gaze.

"Aemond," she greeted him coolly, her tone betraying none of the warmth he had grown accustomed to.

"Vaelys, may I speak with you privately?" Aemond requested, his voice strained with emotion.

Luke's eyes narrowed at the request, his lips curling into a sneer as he glanced at Aemond. "And why should she speak with you, after the way you've treated her?" he retorted, his voice dripping with disdain.

Aemond's jaw clenched at the implication, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. "This is between Vaelys and me," he replied evenly, struggling to keep his temper in check.

Luke chuckled mirthlessly, shaking his head in disbelief. "You truly are an idiot, Aemond," he remarked, his voice filled with contempt as he brushed past him.

Aemond's fists clenched at his sides, his heart heavy with despair as he watched Luke leave the room. He turned back to Vaelys, his gaze pleading as he searched her face for any sign of forgiveness.

But Vaelys remained silent, her expression unreadable as she regarded him with a mixture of disappointment and resignation.

As Aemond stood before Vaelys, his heart heavy with remorse, he took a deep breath, steeling himself to apologize. "Vaelys, I'm sorry," he began, his voice soft with sincerity. "I shouldn't have said those things, and I shouldn't have doubted you. I let my jealousy get the best of me, and I regret it more than anything."

Vaelys looked at him with incredulity, her eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and disbelief. "You're sorry?" she scoffed; her voice tinged with bitterness. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound, Aemond? How could you even for one minute think that I would ever look at another man? I'm married to you, Aemond. I've birthed three of your children. And yet you still doubt me?"

Aemond's heart sank at her words, the weight of his own insecurities pressing down upon him like a suffocating blanket. "I know, Vaelys," he replied, his voice tinged with desperation. "I know I messed up. But please, you have to believe me. I love you more than anything in this world, and I would do anything to make things right between us."

As Aemond stood before Vaelys, the weight of his insecurities pressing down upon him like a heavy burden, he took a shaky breath, steeling himself to confess his deepest fear.

"Vaelys," he began, his voice barely more than a whisper, "I-I'm afraid."

Vaelys' brow furrowed with concern as she gazed at him, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his eyes. "Afraid of what, Aemond?" she asked softly, reaching out to gently touch his arm.

Aemond swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. "I'm afraid-that you only love me because of what happened between us," he confessed, his words tumbling out in a rush. "That somehow, our love isn't real. It's-it's almost like an illusion."

Vaelys' heart shattered at his words; the pain evident in her eyes as she took in the depth of his insecurity. "Aemond, no," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "That's not true. Our love is real, I swear it. It's not based on what happened in the past. It's based on us, on who we are together."

Aemond shook his head, his gaze filled with self-doubt. "But how can you be sure?" he pleaded; his voice laced with desperation. "How can you know that it's not just some twisted result of me kidnapping you?"

Vaelys reached out and cupped his face in her hands, her eyes locking with his as she spoke with unwavering conviction. "Because I know you," she declared, her voice steady with determination. "I know the man you are, and I love you for it. Our love is real, Aemond, and nothing will ever change that."

Tears welled in Aemond's eye as he looked at her, his heart overflowing with emotion at her words.

As the tension between them began to ease, Aemond mustered a small smile, his eye twinkling with mischief. "Now that we've finished arguing," he quipped, "Does that mean we get to make up?"

Vaelys couldn't help but laugh at his cheeky remark, her heart lightening at the sight of his playful demeanour. "Given the severity of our argument," she replied with a teasing smile, "There needs to be a lot of making up done."

Aemond's grin widened at her response, his gaze filled with warmth as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from her face. "I'm up for it if you are," he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire.

Vaelys' cheeks flushed pink at his suggestive tone, her heart fluttering in her chest at the promise in his words. "I think I can manage that," she replied, her own voice tinged with anticipation.

“Aemond” gasped Vaelys her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it ābrazȳrys, take every fucking inch of me-let me fill your sweet cunt” (Wife).

“Oh, please Valzȳrys. I want it. I want all of you” moaned Vaelys (Husband).

“FUCK” roared Aemond as he hauled Vaelys away from the bookcase and placed her the edge of a desk.

“Yes-Yes Aemond, Oh gods” breathed Vaelys.

“I love you-I love you so fucking much” growled Aemond as he mercilessly fucked his wife, filling her over and over again with sharp penetrating thrusts.

“Aemond-yes, right there. Don’t stop-don’t stop” cried Vaelys the tears running down her pale cheeks.

“That’s it Issa jorrāelagon. Come on daddy’s cock” rasped Aemond lurching forward and wrapping his lips around one of his wife’s erect nipples.

Suckling greedily as her mother’s milk flooded his mouth, he reached down and began expertly circling her pearl with his long fingers.

“AEMOND” screamed Vaelys her entire body seizing before going slack and pliant.

“FUCK-I’m going to come-“ groaned Aemond.

“I want it-fill me with your seed Issa dārys” gasped Vaelys (My King).

“FUUUUUCK” roared Aemond, his head thrown back as rope after rope of his seed spilled inside his wife’s cunny.

“Aemond” breathed Vaelys as her husband collapsed on top of her.

“I love you so much-“ replied Aemond.

“-And I love you. I never want you to doubt my love, no one will ever compare to you-my soul mate”.

“Issa idañnykeā perzys” muttered Aemond (My twin flame).

“Husband” breathed Vaelys as she slid her hands into his long silver hair and pulled his face towards hers.

“Wife” replied Aemond as he pressed a kiss to her soft lips.

As they basked in the warmth of their reconciliation, an idea began to form in Vaelys' mind, a way to prove to Aemond once and for all that their love was real and unshakeable. With a spark of excitement in her eyes, she turned to him, her voice filled with determination.

"Will you marry me?” asked Vaelys.

Aemond's brow furrowed in confusion. "We’re already married," he pointed out, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Vaelys shook her head, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I know, but marry me in the ways of old Valyria," she explained, her voice soft but determined. "On Dragonstone. On our beach"

Aemond's eye widened in surprise at her suggestion, his heart swelling with love and admiration for the woman before him.

With a trembling voice, he finally found the words to respond. "Vaelys," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion, "I-I would be honoured to marry you-again”.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Promising love in flames

Daeron Targaryen (son of Viserys I) x wife!reader

warning : emotional, character death, kissing, hurt/comfort, daeron is the only one of his brothers who is normal and doesn't suck in the fic, no use of y/n

Summary : Daeron the only heir to the green throne before his niece Jaehaera was the last hope that the throne could still be held. Even after the many defeats, his older brother sat crippled but still alive by the iron swords. But the second battle at Tumbleton was imminent and it seemed that Daeron and his wife would only be able to see each other one more time before death appears.

info : It's a shame Daeron isn't in the series i like him even though his death is such a mystery and like everyone i just feel sorry for everyone during the war. I inflicted myself with emotional damage sadly. I hope it doesn't hurt too much to read this, have fun anyway :)

masterlist

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The war was raging over Westeros and especially in King's Landing and the surrounding villages and towns at its worst. Houses had already been wiped out, more people died every day than from the plagues of disease it was miserable everywhere.

People were starving, and if they didn't starve they died of the pharynx, and if the fire didn't cure them it was the sword of a saw or a rope around the throat.

They all died in one way or another. The blacks behind Queen Rhaenyra had already lost the poor princes and thus the queen's children as well as the rough prince doc nevertheless they did not give in they still had reserves and the Nord who still played a role gave everything he had in men and resources under Cregan Stark. Every dragon seed was used for the remaining dragons or other positions.

But similarly, each house tried their best to help the now injured and crippled King Aeon the Second and protect his last child, his daughter, but their hopes lay with the former Queen Alicent's youngest child after the moon was killed by his uncle.

Daeron Targaryen third son of Viserys the first the youngest of his siblings a young man of sixteen years but with the courage and determination to unseat his stepsister and continue to hold the throne. But this was also the only dragon the greens had left after the collision of the dragon pit by the people.

Tessarion and his rider Daeron were the last hope for the greens, his mother, his brother, his niece, the people and above all the young prince was the hope and light of his wife.

Shortly before the outbreak of war, the marriage had been arranged with the first daughter of Lord Peake, a girl of his age, not only politically, because of the countries and the men's discrimination, it seemed as if there was a certain tragedy behind it.

It was a chilly morning in the sept of King's Landing when the royal lady arrived with Lord Unwin Peake. A daughter in a dark dress of her family was already standing at the entrance next to her father, a man who was proudly dressed.

His daughter was bound to the prince of the realm, the winning side, and that meant favor and respect for a good marriage from the point of view of the players.

She remembered the fear she had that he would not like her, that she would not like him as she walked the path to Atlar past the royal family to which she would soon belong. But her husband, the prince of the kingdom of Daeron stood there a cloak green with gold the clothes decorated with dragons which met her bronze with the towers. ,,My lady, I am delighted to see you," he had murmured to her, taking her hand gently, it was his softness that set him apart from his brothers and his dreamy sister. It seemed that Daeron was the good coin of the Targaryen.

It was then, in the few moons they had together found peace, that they truly took a liking to each other. He was always willing to prove to his brothers that he was just as strong as them, just because his dragoness was the smallest of the adults.

But it was always like this as soon as he came back to her and he became soft, poetic and above all loving. His kisses were always gentle never hard and harsh like a dragon he was just the picture of a good prince.

She had a loving dragon with a sense of duty and who fought for his family and took them on flights into the sky and to uncharted cities with his dragoness Tessarion. ,,Only you surpass the sky in your beauty my lady" were just a few of the compliments he paid her. He was soft, showed her things that only a prince and princess couple could do, let her tinker with things and she let him listen to old stories from valyria while he held her in flight.

It was a marriage that was childless at that young age but it was a marriage that was politically correct and they both got to know each other better. Until the time they were called to the council and the news of the war came, ,,I will do my duty brother my life is dedicated to the crown" he had said first without hesitation and she held his hand.

It was his loyalty and duty to which his brothers were committed and always needed. He looked into the violet eyes of determination as they were sent off to Oldtwon that very evening.

He served his kinsman Lord Hightower and always reassured her that everything would be all right, ,,I'll protect you with my life, my love," he murmured over and over when he found her weeping bitterly.

She was afraid of losing her family, afraid of losing her Daeron…but by that point her husband had earned the title of Daeron the Daring and won the first victory in Tumbleton.

It was a victory that was celebrated, a victory she looked forward to with a pounding heart as she waited in his tent, which was guarded. She ran longingly into his army and he held her again.

He always held her even now in the year one hundred and thirty after aegon's conquest when the second battle of tumbleton took place and the attackers took her by surprise. it was a knowing that it was over.

They just had to listen outside, ,,Yet this day was so beautiful," she heard him murmur as the prince rose from his chair by the battle plan, the simple golden crown on his head removed. His eyes were violet with disappointment, love and relief.

His wife got up from the two-seater and put down her wine. In her dress she always looked like a beautiful queen to him. ,,Tessarion seemed so free," she admitted and looked outside, the tent flap fluttered every now and then and they knew what was going on outside. They could not withstand such an attack.

He nodded yes, his Tessarion seemed very happy on their morning ride together, spitting beautiful blue flames, circling calmly and cuddling her rider and his wife. ,,She loves flying like we do," he said and held out a hand to his wife, who accepted it.

His violet eyes looked at her despite their young age, they seemed to have aged. Daeron's hair slightly tousled and still with soot damaged here and there by the fires, his beloved's dress beautiful and yet with splashes of blood as she too had seized crossbow and sword to defend herself until Tessarion killed the attacker.

Her eyes showed her youth but her body was tired of it, ,,Duty my daring prince you were too good for this damned bloodshed" she said and laid her head against his chest.

His heartbeat, though relatively fast, was not full of fear, his hands trembling slightly around her. His lips kissed her forehead and his fingers made her look at him.

Tears had gathered in her eyes as the screams grew louder and she felt the warmth above the tent. The tent where they had spent the last days and weeks. A beautiful tent where they shared love, kisses and emotions.

But he wiped away the falling tears, kissing her cheeks gently as he always did, ,,I love you from the day I saw you. I couldn't be more grateful and proud," he told her with a soft smile that made her lips evenfalsl into a smile. Her sniffles mingled with silent tears of pride as he heard the cry of his dragoness she heard the words in Valyrian he commanded his beloved dragoness to fight one last time and fulfill her duty.

It was Vermithor and Seasmoke in the sky when they heard Tessarion rise with a scream and flames engulfed the tent only moments later. The heat slowly increased the blood increased the death increased. Their end came closer. ,,You were a good being, loyal and daring…thank you Tessarion," she heard him say as the blue flames of his dragons engulfed the tent and the prince seemed unafraid of the flames of his family, even if his own eyes watered. His favorite memories slowly burst into flames around them, a nice contrast to the beauty of his wife.

She liked the flames of Tessarion, the blue was pretty, the dragoness was beautiful and Daeron was gentle, it seemed almost soothing to die in his arms surrounded by the warmth of the pretty color of the cobalt blue, the violet of her dear Daeron's eyes and his light hair. ,,Will it hurt?" she asked nevertheless as the flames began to engulf the furniture and wooden beams and it grew closer and more inescapable.

A question they both knew would only do so for a moment before they would die in each other's arms. ,,Just for a moment, my love, but I'm with you," he promised, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear and joining their hands together.

They were still beautiful and in love, they were everything majestic there was in this hellhole. They were eternal in the stages of history and each other's hearts and that was what mattered.

Blue flames crawled across the ground slowly touching their clothes and Daeron's cloak the dragons on his cloak began to burn their towers began to glow. It was getting hot just below the surface, but all only for a moment it seemed to go away.

They sang to each other, ,,I love you so infinitely with my heart that we may be together again in the endless journey," tears of fear and love flowed down the cheeks of the young royal couple as they joined for one last kiss.

Before the blue dragon fire flames ignited their bodies the love burned but the couple smiled softly into the kiss. Received death with love and courage and should be written in the history books of the masters yet to be read.

Prince Daeron died in his wife's arms and she died in his arms, sharing one last kiss before the flames of Tessarion's loyalty put an end to them. It was the most beautiful and tragic image the Dance of the Dragons produced, but it was a love for eternity. The love between a true prince and his lady wife. Together forever beyond the mortal world, bound by the love in their hearts.

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[kingsmakers]

The Children of Maelora Targaryen & Gwayne Hightower

Garth Hightower (b. 115AC): Eldest son and heir, Garth greatly favours his mother in terms of appearance. A capable swordsman with his grandfather Otto’s cunning, Garth is definitely Otto’s favourite. He is especially close with Daeron (his uncle on his mother’s side and cousin on his father’s side), and the two boys train together often and are practically like brothers. A member of the Caltrops, Garth was killed just prior to the Second Battle of Tumbleton. Lynesse Hightower (b. 119AC): Conceived in the Starry Sept, Lynesse has a touch of old magic about her, and is considered blessed (or cursed) by the gods. During Rhaenyra's seizure of King's Landing, Lynesse fled to the Great Sept. Rather than be taken prisoner, Lynesse cut her palms and bestowed a blood curse upon Rhaenyra, before self-immolating. Samyra Hightower (b. 124AC): She is a romantic who loves poetry, song and dance. She adores the ports of Oldtown and dreams of travelling beyond Westeros. Following the Dance, she grew up with her younger brothers in Oldtown. At the age of nineteen, Samyra chose to sail to Essos, where she travelled the continent. Donnel Hightower (b. 129AC): The only one of the children to have a dragon, Aertex, hatch for him in the cradle. This ended any whispers that Maelora and her children lacked the fire and blood of House Targaryen. A feared dragonlord, Donnel was hunted and killed by House Greyjoy later in his life, with both him and Aertex murdered and Aertex's skull taken as a war prize. Peremore Hightower (b. 133AC): Youngest of the children, a baby born at the start of the Dance. Peremore grew up with stories of Garth and Lynesse, both of whom died when he was very young. Peremore lived to an old age, dying the year of the First Blackfyre Rebellion.

Forever tag: @juliaswickcrs @thatmagickjuju @starcrossedjedis @darkwolf76 @akabluekat

@drbobbimorse @mystic-scripture @iron-parkr @asirensrage @rhaenyraslaena

@arrthurpendragon @hiddenqveendom @ofbriarandrose @emilykaldwen @themaradwrites

Maelora tag: @noeverse

[daeron-targs]

It’s been talked about to death at this point, but I’m gonna add my two cents to the whole conversation. I’ve seen people on Twitter and on here saying that Alicent didn’t screw Daeron over because he hasn’t done anything, but she is. Even if he hasn’t participated in a battle yet, he’s still marching with an army, which makes him a threat (even if Rhaenyra underestimates him due to Tessarion’s size).

Rhaenyra says it herself, she must put an end to the opposition, which wouldn’t just mean killing Aegon, but also Aemond and Daeron as well. Even if Alicent doesn’t want Daeron killed and Rhaenyra agrees to spare him, he’ll always be considered a threat to her rule. The Hightowers might decide to try and make him king (an idea which was floated around in the book prior to Second Tumbleton). One of her supporters could very well decide to go rogue and kill him.

He’s screwed no matter what, regardless of whether or not it was Alicent’s intention to do so.

[saintsunfyre]

SHARIS FOOTLY, LADY OF TUMBLETOWN

Six months after the Second Battle of Tumbleton, Lady Sharis gave birth to a lusty dark-haired boy who she proclaimed to be her late lord husband's trueborn heir, though it was far more likely that he had been sired by Roxton. She ruled in his name as regent and became famous for her efforts to restore the shattered town. She pulled down the burned shells of shops and houses, rebuilt the town walls, buried the dead, planted wheat and barley and turnips in the fields where the camps had been, and had the heads of the dragons Seasmoke and Vermithor cleaned and displayed in the town square, where travelers paid a penny to look at them, and a star to touch them.

WINTER OF THE WIDOWS (3/9)

Johanna Lannister// Samantha Hightower // Sharis Footly // Lady Tyrell // Alys Rivers // Sabitha Frey // Jeyne Arryn // Elenda Baratheon // Aliandra Martell

[stromuprisahat]

Tessarion and Seasmoke were young dragons, nimbler in the air than their older kin. Time and time again they rushed one another, only to have one or the other veer away at the last instant. Soaring like eagles, stooping like hawks, they circled, snapping and roaring, spitting fire, but never closing. Once, the Blue Queen vanished into a bank of cloud, only to reappear an instant later, diving on Seasmoke from behind to scorch his tail with a burst of cobalt flame. Meanwhile, Seasmoke rolled and banked and looped. One instant he would be below his foe, and suddenly he would twist in the sky and come around behind her. Higher and higher the two dragons flew, as hundreds watched from the roofs of Tumbleton. One such said afterward that the flight of Tessarion and Seasmoke seemed more mating dance than battle. Perhaps it was.

Fire and Blood × The Princess and the Queen (George R. R. Martin)

When you try to make a date out of a battle...

[thevelaryons]

Addam & Jon Parallels: 7/?

Young Ser Addam died bravely at the Second Battle of Tumbleton, proving his faithfulness with his life after it had been called into question by the deeds of the Two Betrayers.

— The World of Ice & Fire, Aegon II

“My lords, when Donal Noye was slain, it was this young man Jon Snow who took the Wall and held it, against all the fury of the north. He has proved himself valiant, loyal, and resourceful. Were it not for him, you would have found Mance Rayder sitting here when you arrived, Lord Slynt.”

— A Storm of Swords, Jon IX

[kkyoki2006]

Tessarion

Tessarion, also known as the Blue Queen, was a she-dragon ridden by Prince Daeron Targaryen.

Tessarion was a beautiful blue she-dragon.Her wings were a dark cobalt, while her claws, crest, and belly scales were the color of bright beaten copper.Her flames were cobalt blue in color as well.By 129 AC, Tessarion was of fighting size.During the Dance of the Dragons, she was the youngest dragon of fighting weight belonging to Aegon II Targaryen's supporters, meaning she was younger than Vhagar, Dreamfyre, and Sunfyre. By 130 AC, Tessarion was one-third in size to Vermithor. A young dragon at the time, Tessarion was nimble in the air.

Tessarion died during the second battle of tumbleton after a fight with Seasmoke. Tessarion was still alive but was in severe pain after the fight so at the command of Benjicot Blackwood his best archer put out her misery.

My opinion

I honestly think that Tessarion was a really pretty dragon and very battle hardened for her age.

[addamvelaryon]

History calls the struggle between King Aegon II and his half-sister Rhaenyra the Dance of the Dragons, but only at Tumbleton did the dragons ever truly dance. Tessarion and Seasmoke were young dragons, nimbler in the air than their older kin. Time and time again they rushed one another, only to have one or the other veer away at the last instant. Soaring like eagles, stooping like hawks, they circled, snapping and roaring, spitting fire, but never closing. Once, the Blue Queen vanished into a bank of cloud, only to reappear an instant later, diving on Seasmoke from behind to scorch his tail with a burst of cobalt flame. Meanwhile, Seasmoke rolled and banked and looped. One instant he would be below his foe, and suddenly he would twist in the sky and come around behind her. Higher and higher the two dragons flew, as hundreds watched from the roofs of Tumbleton. One such said afterward that the flight of Tessarion and Seasmoke seemed more mating dance than battle. Perhaps it was.

Artist: Jota Saraiva (deviantart/instagram)

[synchodai]

I keep hearing the argument "Meleys was a beloved dragon because she protected Westeros" which connects to this idea that dragons were used to repel foreign invaders and protect the Westerosi smallfolk. So let's unpack this and go through all the times dragons were used in battle and whether or not it was to the benefit of the smallfolk.

(+) are when dragons helped the smallfolk and protected their realm from invaders. Battles of disputed territories (e.g. the Stepstones) are not counted.

(—) are when dragons actively hurt the ruler's subjects.

(¤) is when there is a threat against the Realm that is resolved by a person who doesn't have a dragon when a dragon could have very well been used to help.

Caveats:

We will not count the harm not directly caused by a dragon (death by starvation, death by a dragonrider, battles that do not have dragons involved, etc.)

We will not count the harm caused to non-Westerosi people.

AEGON I

(+) Burning of Harrenhal (killed Harren the Black, freeing the Riverlands from the rule of a tyrant) [Balerion]

(—) Conquest of the Stormlands [Meraxes]

(—) The Field of Fire [Balerion, Vhagar, Meraxes]

(—) The First Dornish War [Balerion, Vhagar]

AENYS + MAEGOR

(¤) Second Dornish War [active dragons at time: Vhagar, Quicksilver]

(—) Squashing rebellions at the Eyrie [Balerion]

(—) Destruction of the Sept of Rememberance [Balerion]

JAEHAERYS I

(+) Third Dornish War [Vermithor]

(+) Fourth Dornish War [Vermithor, Vhagar, Caraxes]

(+) Myrish invasion of Tarth [Caraxes]

VISERYS I

(Only major military conflict is the War for the Stepstones. Caraxes is the only dragon involved and the only other dragon that could have been deployed (with an adult rider) is Meleys. In the show, Laenor is older and thus joins the war with Seasmoke.)

AEGON II + RHAENYRA

(—) Battle at Rook's Rest [Vhagar, Sunfyre, Meleys]

(—) Battle of Honeywine [Tessarion]

(—) Fall of King's Landing [Syrax, Caraxes, Vermithor, Silverwing, Sheepstealer, Seasmoke]

(—) Butcher's Ball [Vhagar]

(—) Sack of Bitterbridge [Tessarion]

(—) First battle of Tumbleton [Tessarion, Vermithor, Silverwing]

(—) Second battle of Tumbleton [Tessarion, Vermithor, Silverwing, Seasmoke]

(Battle of the God's Eye not counted cause technically it was just dragons hurting dragons.)

TAKE-AWAYS

It is possible that during Jaehaerys and Viserys's reigns that a dragon would become beloved of the smallfolk. That dragon, however, wouldn't be Meleys. It would either be Caraxes or Vermithor.

Dragons were more often used for royal progresses than they were for battle. Silverwing could have also been a beloved dragon given the progresses of Queen Alysanne.

The dragons with the most clout are Caraxes and Vermithor. The dragons on the top of the naughty list (prior The Dance) are Balerion and Vhagar.

Contrary to some claims going around, dragons are never canonically used against Ironborn raiders.

Meleys, Dreamfyre, and Silverwing are never deployed during Jaehaerys's and Viserys's reign despite having adult riders (probably because they didn't want to send women to battle even if they were dragonriders...which is weird given how this whole dynasty started with Visenya and Rhaenys.)

The Dance was arguably more destructive and bloody than Aegon's Conquest since a lot of dragon battles were avoided in the latter by people surrendering.

Overall, dragons have been more often destroyers rather than protectors. Jaehaerys was the only king who used his dragons to actively and deliberately protect his lands and subjects.