#serving some real velaryon realness

[geniemillies]

doodled high lord tarquin and some.. soon to be high lord vanserras question mark????

there are actually no buttons in prythian. i confiscated all buttons all laces. all shirts.

[queers-gambit]

Confection Invention

prompt: what is a legacy other than what we're remembered for after we die? names are lost, stories altered, family names obsolete, but recipes are forever because cuisine transcends time.

or how Sansa Stark's favorite dessert, lemon cakes, came to be after discovering your husband's never had a nameday cake.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 3.5k+

warnings: none? none. seems suspicious.

Sansa Stark, newly crowned Queen in the North, was once a child too small, too scared, too sheltered from the harsh brutality of life's reality. Before she left Winterfell that fateful day, it was well known in the castle that the young girl adored the tasty sweet treat, lemon cakes. A confection of dense cake with lemon shreds mixed in the batter, a lemon glaze poured over, and garnished with a bright and tart lemon slice.

King's Landing was equipped to make the dessert and the young redhead still found pleasure in them, sure, but then shit got real when the Lannisters, you know, murdered her father. Sansa "grew up" and didn't bother with sweet treats after that. They just never tasted the same, and she began to admonish herself whenever she had a hankering; figuring with so much bad in the Realm, her want for cake was inappropriate and misplaced.

After years of turmoil, of losing any and everyone she ever cared for, the night the North declared her Queen of their newly-independent realm, Sansa Stark indulged herself and asked the kitchen staff to send lemon cakes to her room with supper. When her private meal was served, so was her dessert, and Sansa had to ask the servant serving her before they could disappear, "Excuse me?"

"Yes, Your Grace?" The serving maid bowed her head, facing Sansa with clasped hands locked stoically in front of her. Sansa almost cringed when she heard her new title, but refrained from reacting - it would simply just take getting used to.

"Might I ask, how are these made?"

"How what are made, Your Grace?"

"These lemon cakes."

"Oh, uh, I do not know the recipe, but I can ask the kitchens - "

"Well, it's odd, isn't it?"

"What is, Your Grace?"

"I've been all over the Realm," she spoke with an even tone, ever the emotionally-stunted diplomat, "and I've sampled many of these cakes in my lifetime, yet fail to find any real distinction. It's almost as if everyone is following the same recipe."

"Oh, well, I do know that they are, Your Grace."

"They are? All of the kingdoms?"

"Yes, Your Grace, i-it's a rare thing, but yes, the Seven Kingdoms use the same recipe."

"How can that be possible? How do they all get the same recipe?"

The maid glanced at the door nervously, "Uh, I-I do not know, Your Grace."

"You may speak freely, you are in no danger here," Sansa encouraged, gesturing to the only other empty chair at her table. "Please, come sit, indulge me in this tale. I am only curious."

"Well," she turned to shut the chamber door, speaking quietly as if what she was about to say was a secret, "it would depend if you know anything about the Targaryen dynasty, Your Grace."

"Only what was generically taught."

She nodded, taking the seat Sansa offered. "Some 2 centuries ago, there was a great scandal and a great war - one you may know as the Dance of Dragons." Sansa nodded and the maid explained anyway, "You see, it started because King Jaehaerys lost his heirs and was forced to choose between eligible familial candidates. Viserys Targaryen, the King's grandson, and his granddaughter, Viserys' cousin, Rhaenys Targaryen."

"Right, I remember the names somewhat."

"The King chose Viserys because, well, he was a man and Rhaenys was only a woman - though, married to a Velaryon, another ancient House hailing from Valyria." Sansa nodded along. "Anyways, uh, King Viserys' first wife was a Targaryen woman who gave him a daughter and then died birthing a son. He remarried a Hightower girl after that and had four other white-haired children; three sons and a daughter."

Sansa nodded slowly as she ate. Nothing like dinner and an entertaining story.

"The second son was Prince Aemond Targaryen, and he had this wife, you see, who was something akin to a saint on soil."

"Nobody's that nice," Sansa snarled in refusal, eyes almost rolling.

"You forget, Your Grace, some 200 years ago, the people never considered rebelling against the Targaryens. Only an arrogant fool would charge a horse at a dragon and think they'd win, so, at the time of this tale, there was no thought to protest the monarchy. Anyways, it wasn't just her kindness that made Aemond Targaryen's wife saint-like. It was all she was, and her most notable work was helping establish, build, organize, and operate orphanages in King's Landing, and then, around the Realm."

"Hmm."

"Well, she worked with those kids and apparently, had an affinity for baking. And because she worked with orphans, when she would take them around to other regions for adoption or placement, she'd leave each kid their own copy of the recipe."

Sansa considered the tale for a moment, then asked, "So, why lemon cakes? Where did they come from?"

The maid smiled.

Aemond Targaryen flinched when he heard something shatter, walking up the hallway alone and only a few strides from his bedchamber. When he opened his door, the One Eyed Prince actually laughed at the sight, "Oh, Gods, are you all right, my love?"

You pouted up at Aemond from the floor, "It was an accident."

"I can tell."

"I really didn't mean to."

He leaned on the doorframe, crossing his arms across his chest, "No, no, I can tell by the way only the vase my mother gifted us for our wedding is broken. Never mind you telling me over the weeks how you despise it."

"It was an accident! I really didn't mean to," you sighed, glancing at the shattered vase around you.

"How'd it happen?" Aemond asked softly, moving forward after pushing off the doorframe and shutting the door. "Hmm? C'mere, little love," he bent at the waist to pick you up from the floor, hoist you in his arms, then carry you to the bed. "You all right? You hurt?"

"No...?"

"Show me."

You frowned and showed the shallow cut on the underside of your forearm, informing, "It was an accident, I swear t'the Seven, Aemond. I just tripped on the chair," you pointed to where the sitting furniture was overturned, "and fell into the table. I was replacing the flowers in the vase."

He nodded, "Your cut isn't bad, here, just hold this to it." Your husband pressed a spare cloth to your wound before straightening his spine. "Sit here a moment, I'll clean."

"No, let me - "

"No, no, love, just wait," he chuckled. In the time it took a maid to bring in a broom and dustpan, Aemond had successfully distracted you enough with casual conversation. It was there you discovered a secret you deemed unacceptable. "No, I am not lying, sweet girl," Aemond chuckled, "I've truly never had a cake for my nameday. The idea just seems silly, doesn't it? To celebrate such a common event?"

You scoffed, "We'll come back to your cynicism later. Surely, in your youth, your mother made you cake?"

"Being the second son, you often got overlooked," Aemond shrugged as if it didn't bother him. "I am not missing much, it's just cake."

"'Just cake'!? You say that because you do not know," you pouted. "What kind of a wife am I that I did not know this?"

Aemond laughed, "We've been married all of 3 months."

"It should've come up," your eyes rolled, "or at least in the lifetime of friendship before our betrothal."

"Consider this a learning opportunity between spouses. It isn't a bad thing," Aemond defended, the shattered and scattered ceramic being swept away. "So what, I've not had cake? I am missing nothing."

"It makes me sad."

Aemond laughed as he eyed you for a moment, nodding like he understood something. "You mean to remedy this, don't you?" He asked, showing the maid out of your chambers.

"Of course I do!"

He chuckled, "You know I am not fond of sweets."

"Doesn't matter, I'll find something you like. We can start with the basics, uh... Um... Well, I guess, do you like dense cakes? Fluffier, lighter ones?"

He paused to think, offering, "I like the gooseberry pies served at banquets?"

"Those are dense."

"Hmm, then dense is fine. They're in smaller quantities because they're so heavy."

You nodded, "Any flavors?"

"I am unsure on that front."

"Fruits? C'mon, fruits are usually really good with pastries and cakes."

"You know what I like," Aemond sighed, uncomfortable with the idea of attention for his nameday. "Trust me, love, I cannot make this decision - I just don't know. I am terribly green when it comes to sweets. Even when offered at formal events, you know I'm not interested."

"Well, how about a sampling? I can make you different treats and you tell me which you like."

Aemond chuckled, knowing you wouldn't let this go and agreed, "All right, sure."

And boy, did you keep to your word. The kitchen staff was already used to seeing you on a decently regular basis, but suddenly, you were spending all day in the kitchen, trying out different recipes. You made cakes, cookies, brownies, pastries, all kinds of desserts! You even went a step further, trying out newly invented ideas until narrowing down several options. You were determined to give Aemond something, wanting him to feel your love and effort in the confections because his nameday was the one day you had to pamper and spoil him without complaint.

(Though, trust me, he still complained and deflected attention.)

You loved Aemond's nameday because he had no choice but to be at the forefront of your attention and affection; something his family found amusing after their years of neglect towards him. Every other day of the year, he was stubborn and impossible and made everything about you; but not his nameday!

Even though he truly wasn't a fan of desserts, Aemond still met you on a balcony at the end of the week because not only did he adore making you happy, but he hardly ever said no to you. You had an array of treats made and displayed, and slowly, he sampled what you presented; speaking simply for your mental notes. However, he came upon something new - something he's not seen before.

"What's this?"

"Um, well... See, my younger siblings sometimes like citrus in their desserts, so, I thought this might be good? Or it could be tart - one or the other."

"This is lemon?"

"Yes, and that is made with limes from Volantis," you pointed to another platter, "that one's orange, that one's cherry, and that one has coconut."

"Where did you get coconuts and cherries?"

"That's not important. Which one is your favorite? It's what you're getting for your nameday, so do not lie."

"Pardon my pun, but the lemon cake takes the cake, sweet girl."

Aemond's heart soared in his chest when your grin of pride was hardly contained; looking pleased that you had invented something to his liking - making it all the more special, being something Aemond never has to share with others.

Sansa thought it was a lovely tale, clarifying, "So, when you say she established King's Landing's orphanages, did she use the Crown's money or the tax payer's?"

The maid smiled, "No, Your Grace, she used royal funds. King Viserys commissioned her bakery, and after a bit, the people actually started donating to her cause because the King offered tax exemption for those who donated."

"And she would take the kids around the Seven Kingdoms for placement? By herself? Why? Why not bake full time? She was obviously good at it."

"She was passionate, and the kids couldn't all fit in King's Landing anymore, so, she had to help relocate them for a better quality of life. She also gave each child the recipe so they could have a little taste of 'home' when they wanted."

Sansa nodded slowly. "How did word spread if she only made it for her husband on his nameday?"

"A moment, please," you interrupted your in-laws departure from the dinner table. When Alicent looked you in the eye, you smiled, "I've something for you all to try in honor of Prince Aemond's nameday."

"Oh, love, no," Aemond whispered in embarrassment, "not tonight."

"Would you mind, Mykal?" You asked the kind servant, who nodded once and exited the dining room.

"What's this about?" Otto questioned.

"Well, I thought we just might celebrate for just a moment together," you eased. "What with tensions so high lately, I just figured we deserved something... Sweet."

Alicent's lips twitched, always knowing in her heart that you were too good for Aemond - too good for this wreck of a family. When Mykal returned, he carried a decorated platter of lemon cakes and set it in the middle of the cleared-away table. You stood.

"What are they?" Aegon asked with an unsure curled lip.

"Lemon cakes," you smiled, "a confection of my own invention made especially for my husband, hmm?" You served a small, personal cake to each family member using saucer platters. "Please, just try it - tell me what you think."

You placed the final cake in front of your husband, grinning and taking your seat again. You knew he hated the spotlight, it gave him anxiety; so, you tried to do your best by acknowledging his nameday without needing to fuss over him. He always liked that you two celebrated privately, but being a "special event", the family had dinner together that night and you thought it a great time for the tart dessert to debut. You dwelled in anticipation as your in-laws all tried their cakes, Aemond feeding you every other bite from his fork as there came a chorus of satisfying hums and groans of approval.

"Holy Mother," Otto chuckled, instantly forking another bite in his mouth. "Mh, mh, mh, wow," he smacked his lips, nodding in impression. "You invented this?" He asked, watching you nod. "You invented a new cake..."

"For Aemond's nameday, yes," you confirmed, tone a little sharper than usual in an effort to make your point.

"I gotta admit, Y/N," Aegon spoke with a full mouth, a few crumbs flying, "this is bloody delicious."

"It really is," Alicent agreed, offering her husband a bite. "Viserys? Love? It's a lemon cake, here, try a bite."

"A what?" Viserys wheezed in confusion. "N-Never heard of l-lemon cake."

"They're new," she explained, "Y/N made them for Aemond's nameday. Isn't that special? Try a bite, love, there you go."

Viserys accepted the bit of cake on Alicent's fork, wincing gently at the tart taste before, too, humming. "'S good," he whispered, looking drained of energy.

"Gotta make these more often," Aegon pointed his fork at the cake crumbles left. He continued, "Like, bring these to every banquet we host and this will be the star." You chuckled and put another cake on his plate, it being instantly torn into.

You smiled at Aemond, "Guess they're a hit."

He leaned down to affectionately press his lips to your forehead for a long moment, mumbling, "Knew they would be."

"So, does this mean I can bake you cakes now? Every nameday? You won't complain?" You asked, tangling his hand with yours and relishing in the way he squeezed.

"Oh, he'll still complain," Helaena giggled, licking icing from her finger, "no matter what."

Aemond smirked at his sister, offering a subtly jab at his family, "I would never complain about being loved. Besides," he offered you a fond, softening look, "she does it so well, wouldn't you say?"

The family hummed in agreement, not truly paying attention to his words - all enraptured with scraping their saucer platters clean. You smiled up at him, letting his lips find yours in a brief show of emotion.

Otto mused, "You know, I've heard it said, 'the love of a good woman will echo through lifetimes'. I think food is a surefire way to ensure that legacy of love, respect, consideration..."

For the next few weeks, you spent more and more time in the kitchens; whipping out batches of lemon cakes to offer the Keep's staff after rumors spread of your cakey goodness. You gifted guards, trainers, tutors, members of court, maids, the castle's servants the newly invented confection. It quickly became the most talked about topic in King's Landing; the citizens being obsessed with your cake and demanding a taste of their own.

In fact, Viserys was so pleased by the turn of events that on one of his rare good days, he consulted Otto. "A bakery for Y/N - would it be worth the purchase? Do you think the Crown should fund the purchase?"

Otto considered, "Well, since her cakes are the hottest commodity currently, I'd say, yes, Your Grace, it'd be worth exploring as a new revenue for the Crown."

"No, no, not for the Crown t'collect from - leave it for Aemond and Y/N to share. This is not to be a business we collect the profits from - but rather, something they might enjoy." Viserys tried to smile, deciding, "Make it happen, Otto, my friend."

"Your Grace?"

"I want - I want her to have a bakery. Where she might sell her baked goods as she sees fit, not as an extension of the Crown, she deserves it. All her hard work," the King wheezed, coughing violently.

"Of course, Your Grace."

Yet when you were informed about your new business venture and shown the building that was to be your bakery, you told Otto that you didn't bake for money and having your own business would be terribly redundant. Yet Otto insisted that you made your own rules and if you wanted to charge, you could, but Viserys wanted you to have a designated safe space to create in.

Upon the grand opening, you were a SMASH hit. The line in your bakery was nonstop and extended out the door; the Gold Dragons overflowing enough for you to restock your ingredients tenfold AND have leftovers to funnel back into the orphanages. People talked, they spread word and rumor, and most patrons had heard through the "grape vine" that your bakery was well worth any wait. Being so popular, you required extra hours baking and only opened about three days a week because you still had your other job.

Speaking of, you obviously still worked with the orphans; in fact, some of them even came to hang out in the bakery! No, they didn't help bake unless they asked to specifically mix the icing or something, because you didn't believe in exploiting child labor. Anyways, on certain days, you closed the bakery and brought all the cakes to the orphanage to distribute, always having a warm heart when the kids giggled while eating the little sweet treat. It inspired you to write down the recipe you invented and every trip you took to help kids find their placement, you brought them recipe cards.

"Here," you handed the card over to the guardian agreeing to care for the kids, "this is just a recipe for a cake and I promise it's really simple to follow. It'll be a familiar taste to them when living here, somewhere unfamiliar for now." You sniffled, offering a watery smile, "Just wanted them to have a piece of home."

The volunteer guardians were usually grateful, knowing baking these cakes could be a form of bonding between them and the kids. It was difficult trying to get these types of kids to open up after all they endured on the streets before your orphanage took them in. Maybe a little cake would help mend those wounds and assure them, while here, they were safe.

You never expected to live out through history, but while names are lost, stories altered, and family names become obsolete, cuisine is a universally shared experience that transcends time.

Sansa sat for a moment, stewing in the story. Never had she imagined such a history lesson surrounding her favorite dessert; she would've thought some old granny would've been messing around in the kitchens to invent such a treat. Not a Princess of the Realm, especially one belonging to the most fearsome and longest reigning monarchy in Westerosi history.

For a brief moment, she was jealous by the description of your relationship to Prince Aemond; hearing how loving your husband was, how supportive and kind to you. She wondered if she'd ever experience something like that - and if she'd ever meet someone who would take her nameday as seriously as you took your husband's.

"What happened after?" She asked quietly, taking a long sip of her wine. "To the Prince and Princess, I mean?"

The maid shrugged meekly, "Not too long after, the Dance of Dragons started and there was no time or reason to bake anymore. They both perished in the flames of war, unfortunately, becoming victims of the Princess Rhaenyra - Aemond's older half-sister."

"Mh," Sansa nodded, "I've heard of her. Maegor with Tits, they called her."

The maid nodded, finishing, "But, you see, Your Grace, the recipe was already spread around the Realm and to this day, is still being used."

The room was silent for a long moment.

"All that," she stabbed her lemon cake with her fork and lifted the bite to her eye for examination, "just because she loved a man and wanted to give him what he's never had before."

"Perhaps, Your Grace, that is why nameday cakes are now tradition. They say the love of a good woman will echo through lifetimes, Your Grace."

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

[icarusignite]

Hey Autor,

Could you maybe make a Reader Velaryon/Targaryen x Cregan stark?

The reader is the daughter of Rhaenyra and Laenor (the real father is Daemon Targaryen) and the eldest child of Rhaenyra and the heiress of the iron throne.The reader is sent to the Starks at the age of 14 to live with them for some time (no idea what reason there might be). Cregan doesn’t like the reader at first and is mean to her.At some point, the two get closer and fall in love. Maybe just kisses could arise between them no more. After she was with the Starks for some time, one day a lord comes with his daughter maybe Alysanne Blackwood and her father. Because Cregan is engaged to her and should marry her soon,He never told the reader that he was promised to someone else and the reader gets angry. Cregan wants to talk to her but she ignores him. Cregan does not take action against the wedding and marries Alysanne. Alysanne notices that the reader is angry and and provoke her. reader says goodbye to Lord and Lady stark, While Cregan spends time with Alyssane to get to know her. Reader flies home on her dragon because she doesn’t want to be at the wedding. After years, a war in the north has broken out and seems to be lost. Rhaenyra sends the reader and Jace to the north to help the Starks and end the war with their dragons. Cregan has a child with alysanne (but she should still be alive please.) She's still bitter and full of anger. Maybe the two could have a happy ending because Cregan really loved the reader, he didn’t want to hurt her, but it’s called a stark doesn’t break an oath. Of course, the reader does not forgive him directly and makes him feel her anger.

Please a lot of drama, I love big drama.

I am sorry for my English.

Your reader.

Ps: I wrote this request to another author but I don't know if he wants to write it so I wanted to write to you again because I always love your writing 🫶

Cregan Stark x fem! reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.6K

Summary: The five times you told Cregan Stark you hated him, and the one time you actually meant it.

A/N: Hey heyyyy, lol I'm finally back. I'm soo soo sorry this took forever to put out, I've been suffering from massive writer's block and I lowkey feel like my house of the dragon hyperfixation was over for a while so I wasn't feeling too motivated to work on related stuff. Anyway, hope you like what I've done with the premise. Lots of drama but I didn't really see there being a happy end where they actually get together lol. As usual, I love your requests and asks so feel free to send in more (I shall try to get them done in a more timely manner T_T)

I hate you I love you

1. At first sight

Being the oldest daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and future heir to the Iron Throne meant that you were seldom allowed to follow your heart's desire. You were simply a pawn in the grand elaborate game of life, fit to be moved around wherever someone saw fit. You didn't have much of a say when your mother named you her heir, you didn't have a say when she decided that you would be sent to be fostered at Winterfell for a few years for some reason you could not fathom, and you certainly would not have a say when you would be married off to whatever lord would serve the greatest political advantage. 

You first met the dark-haired boy that was Cregan Stark at the impressionable young age of fourteen, and you were quite intimidated. There was something in his eyes, their steely grey reminding you of an icy winter storm. His uncle, Lord Bennard, currently ruled the north as regent and you could tell that relations were tense between the two of them.

Lord Brennard had led you into the Great Hall, where the fire roared in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls. There, standing near the hearth, was a young man of sixteen, with a stony expression, his eyes fixed on the flames. Lord Brennard cleared his throat, and the young man turned to look at them.

"Princess, may I introduce you to my nephew, Cregan Stark," Lord Brennard said with a polite smile.

Cregan regarded you with a cold, distant gaze, his demeanour as frosty as the land outside. He didn't extend a hand or offer a greeting. Instead, he simply nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line, making it clear that he would rather be anywhere else but there.

If you were unhappy with his offputting behaviour, you made no show of it. Your mother had schooled you in the proper etiquette of being a gracious young lady and you extended your hand gracefully. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my lord."

Cregan's response was curt, "Likewise." 

He then turned his attention back to the fire, seemingly disinterested in your presence.

Lord Brennard, ever the diplomat, tried to initiate conversation. 

"Cregan, the princess has travelled a long way to be here. Perhaps you could show her around Winterfell, and introduce her to some of your companions?"

Cregan sighed audibly and finally tore his gaze away from the flames, "Do I have to, Uncle?"

Lord Brennard's expression tightened slightly, but he remained patient, "It would be a kind gesture, Cregan. She's a guest in our home."

You smiled politely, doing your best to break through the young lord's cold exterior, "I would appreciate it greatly. I've heard so much about Winterfell, and I'd love to get to know the people who live here."

Cregan rolled his eyes but eventually relented with a reluctant nod.

"Fine, I'll show you around, but don't expect me to be your tour guide."

"Thank you. I promise not to be a bother," you grinned now, willing him to at least return some of your warmth. 

Cregan's tour of Winterfell was far from what you had imagined. He led you through the castle's corridors and courtyards with long, determined strides, leaving you to struggle to keep up. Your gown, designed for the elegant strolls through the castles of the Red Keep and Dragonstone, was ill-suited for the rugged terrain and brisk pace Cregan set.

"My lord, please, may we slow down?" you called out, your voice slightly breathless. Your soft leather shoes were ill-equipped for the uneven stone floors, and your dress hampered your every step.

Cregan barely spared you a glance, his impatience evident in his voice, "We don't have all day, Princess. You wanted a tour, didn't you?"

You pressed on, determined not to let Cregan's demeanour ruin your first day at Winterfell. You struggled to maintain your composure, but your frustration was building. 

"Yes, but I didn't expect it to be a race. Could you at least wait for me?"

Cregan halted abruptly, turning to face you with a roll of his eyes, "Didn't you promise not to be a bother?"

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and frustration. You had hoped for a warmer welcome, but it seemed Cregan was determined to make you feel like an unwanted guest. 

"I did, but I didn't realize being polite was such a bother."

Cregan let out an exasperated sigh, and for a moment, you thought he might storm off and leave you behind. Instead, he begrudgingly slowed his pace, allowing you to catch up.

"Fine, let's get on with it."

As you continued the tour, Cregan pointed out various parts of Winterfell with curt explanations, still making no effort to engage in polite conversation. You did your best to show interest and appreciation for the castle's history and architecture, but it was clear that Cregan was not interested in your company.

Later that evening, the dinner at Winterfell was a formal affair, and despite the grandeur of the feast laid out, Cregan continued to be rude and dismissive towards you. He barely acknowledged your presence, and when you attempted to engage in conversation with other members of the Stark household, he would interrupt with snide comments or pointedly change the subject. The tension in the room was palpable, and you could feel the disapproving glances of some of the Stark bannermen who were clearly not pleased with the arrangement. You couldn't blame them though; you were an outsider, and Cregan's hostility toward you only made matters worse.

Eventually, you had had enough. After the meal, when you found yourselves alone in the corridor leading to your chambers, you turned to him, frustration boiling over after hours of having kept it simmering under your skin. 

"My lord, may I ask you something?"

Cregan raised an eyebrow, his icy demeanour unchanged, "I don't suppose you'd desist if I refused?"

That was it. Your final breaking point. 

"Why are you determined to be so fucking impolite to me?" your voice exploded, echoing in the empty corridor. 

Cregan's eyes widened, surprised at your use of profanities no doubt. 

Without stopping for a breath, you continued your torrent of complaints, "I understand that you didn't want me here, but have you perhaps considered that I didn't want to leave my home either? I didn't have a say in this, just like you, so if I can muster up the courage to try and hold on to a shred of hopefulness about this whole situation, can't you at least try to be civil to me? You're older than me, after all. Or do you not have the emotional maturity to not be a fucking menace to people you've judged in your head before even getting to know them."

Cregan regarded your outburst with his usual cold indifference, and you felt yourself deflate. Perhaps you had gone too far. Insulting a lord in his home was not proper behaviour befitting a young lady but you would be lying if you said that it didn't bring you a little satisfaction to see the slight cracks in Cregan's composure. There was a glimmer of something else in his eyes as well—a flicker of respect, perhaps. After a long, uncomfortable silence, he finally let out a sigh, seemingly relenting and his eyes softened, almost too imperceptibly.

"Fine," he said grudgingly, his tone suggesting that he was far from genuine. "I apologize if my behaviour has offended you, Princess."

He tacked on the Princess at the end of his sentence, almost as an afterthought and the mockery in it only made the fire in your eyes blaze brighter. You opened your mouth to say something else but Cregan raised his hands placatingly. 

"No, no. I am truly sorry for my behaviour. I had my reasons but I will not give you excuses," he chuckled. "Although I must admit, I did not expect you capable...of that."

Your ears flushed crimson and you ducked your head in embarrassment.

"I hate you Cregan Stark," you mumbled under your breath but when you looked up to see his arrogantly cocked eyebrow and knowing smirk, you realized you did not quite mean it with the intensity he deserved. 

2. Deep in the godswood

One crisp, sunny morning, the two of you found yourselves in the godswood of Winterfell, surrounded by the ancient trees with their solemn faces carved into the bark. You had decided to engage in a rare moment of playfulness, and the game you had chosen was a simple one—tag.

Cregan, always quick and agile, took the first turn as the pursuer. He sprinted after you, his laughter echoing through the godswood. After a few months at Winterfell, you were no longer the delicate princess you once were, and you ran with surprising grace.

As you weaved between the towering trees, the thrill of the chase engulfed you. You darted around a tree, hoping to outmaneuver Cregan, but he was relentless. With a burst of speed, he lunged forward and tagged you, causing you to stumble.

Your foot caught on a root, and you tumbled to the ground with a cry of surprise. You had landed on the soft moss beneath the tree, your dress stained with mud and leaves. You scowled and glanced up at Cregan, who stood over you, victorious and unapologetic.

"You cheated," you accused your voice a mix of irritation and laughter.

Cregan grinned mischievously, "All's fair in love and war, Princess."

You couldn't help but chuckle despite your fall. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, your gaze meeting Cregan's. 

"Well, we must be at war then, my lord, for I see no love here in this godswood."

"Oh is that so?" Cregan's eyes twinkled and he watched you in a way that made your ears flush again. 

"I fucking hate you!" you declared, trying to force a scowl on your face.

Cregan's expression softened, and he reached out his hand to help you up. As you looked into his eyes, something shifted within you. You realized that your declaration of hatred was no longer true if it ever had been.

You accepted Cregan's hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet and into him. Your gaze met his, and there was a brief moment where something bright and electric sparked between the two of you. 

Cregan smiled and winked, breaking the soft moment. 

"Let's watch our language, Princess. And don't try to lie to me, I know you better than that."

"Oh, you know nothing at all, my lord."

3. Once upon a fairytale

The ball at Winterfell was a rare and enchanting event, one that had not been held in years. The Great Hall had been transformed into a dazzling spectacle, with chandeliers glittering from the ceiling and banners of House Stark adorning the walls. The air in Winterfell had been doing you wonders and you had grown even more radiant in the past year. Your presence drew the attention of many young lords from noble houses across the North.

You were quickly approached by eager suitors the moment you stepped into the hall, and they approached you with polished manners and flattering words, hoping for a chance to dance with a royal princess. Cregan, watching from the shadows, felt a pang of jealousy as he saw one lord after another try their luck with you, often stumbling over their words in their haste.

In response to their requests, you smiled politely and declined each invitation with a gracious nod. Your eyes, however, never strayed far from Cregan, who it seemed had taken up a dance with another lady—a striking brunette with a winsome smile. 

Finally, when the music shifted to a slower, more intimate melody, Cregan finished his dance and made his way towards you. He extended his hand with a charming smile. 

"Princess, may I have this dance?"

Your response was less than warm. You raised an eyebrow and looked at him with mock annoyance. 

"Oh, my lord, how kind of you to finally grace me with your presence. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."

Cregan's smirk was mischievous as he took your hand, "Forgotten about you? Never, my lady."

As you began to dance, the tension between the two of you was palpable. Your voice was hushed as you spoke, your irritation clear. 

"You've been dancing with other ladies all night. I thought you weren't interested in me."

Cregan leaned in closer, his breath ghosting across your throat, "Jealous, are we?"

Your cheeks flushed.

"No," you replied, trying to remain nonchalant, but your tone betrayed your true feelings. "I just thought you were ignoring me."

"Sounds like jealousy to me."

You rolled your eyes, "I hate you, Cregan Stark."

Cregan's eyes twinkled with amusement as he spun you gracefully across the floor, "You don't."

You opened your mouth to protest, but Cregan brought your hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, and your breath immediately caught in your throat, rendering you speechless.

Cregan held your gaze, his eyes filled with a fierce intensity. 

"No, you don't," he repeated softly as if daring you to deny it.

4. Slowly, and then all at once

Throughout the next grand feast, Cregan couldn't resist cracking teasing jokes at your expense, each one playful but not cruel, designed only to elicit merriment. His quips were met with laughter and amusement from the other lords and ladies, you felt annoyed being his topic of discussion that evening.

After the dinner finally concluded, you could take no more. You caught Cregan by the arm as he was about to leave the hall and dragged him away to an isolated hallway. Your eyes flashed with anger as you turned to face him and although the expression on your face was a serious one, he couldn't help but be mesmerized by the fieriness of it. It was the same expression you had worn the first time you confronted him about his behaviour and unbeknownst to you, that was when he had first started to feel that aching pull toward you.

"What was that all about, Cregan?" you demanded, your voice sharp. 

Cregan's response was unexpected. He didn't offer an apology or a defence of his actions. Instead, he took a step closer to you, his expression intense. Before you could react or voice your pent-up frustration, he kissed you.

It was a passionate, intense kiss that left you momentarily breathless. Your protests were silenced as your lips met his, and your anger dissolved into a mixture of surprise and desire. Cregan's lips were firm against yours, his hands gentle but insistent on your waist.

When he finally pulled away, you were left looking quite dazed and disoriented. Your cheeks flushed, and your heart raced in your chest. Cregan smirked at you, his eyes filled with a blend of amusement and affection.

"Princess," he said softly, "Don't you dare say that you hate me again. It's abundantly clear that you don't."

You tried to form a coherent response, but your thoughts were still scattered from the unexpected kiss. You found yourself at a loss for words, your feelings for the young lord more complex than ever before.

Cregan's thumb brushed gently against your cheek, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead tenderly. 

"Let's not waste any more time pretending, my lady," he whispered. "We both know how we truly feel."

5. I wish I could hate you

The arrival of Lady Alysanne Blackwood and her father brought a flurry of activity to Winterfell. Lady Alysanne was a beautiful and vivacious woman, and her presence seemed to light up every room she entered. As the daughter of an important house, she was greeted with warmth and enthusiasm by Lord Brennard Stark and the other members of House Stark.

You couldn't help but notice the stark contrast in Cregan's behaviour towards Lady Alysanne compared to his demeanour with you when you first arrived. He greeted the Blackwoods with a genuine smile, engaged in polite conversation, and even offered to show Lady Alysanne around Winterfell himself. It was a stark departure from the cold and aloof Cregan you had known at first.

You tried to push aside the feelings of hurt and jealousy that welled up within you. It had been some time since Cregan had treated you with such indifference, and you knew you should let bygones be bygones. After all, you reasoned, Cregan had every right to make new acquaintances and friends. You were still the one he shared kisses with and spoke whispered promises to. 

However, as the days passed, you couldn't shake the feeling of being left behind. Cregan seemed to spend more and more time in the company of Lady Alysanne, showing her the beauty of Winterfell, introducing her to the people of the North, and sharing tales of their homeland.

One evening, as you watched Cregan and Lady Alysanne from across the courtyard, a sense of loneliness and abandonment washed over you. Then came the announcement that turned your blood cold. There was talk around the castle of preparations for a grand wedding. At first, this confused you. Cregan was the only member of the Starks of marriageable age, but he had never discussed something like this with you. And then you realized why, when passing the kitchens late one night, you overheard the scullery maids talking about how lovely a bride Lady Alysanne would make. 

One day, as you walked alone in the quiet gardens of Winterfell, your steps slow and contemplative, Lady Alysanne approached you. You had been lost in your thoughts, unaware of Alysanne's presence until she spoke.

"I must admit, I wanted to see for myself the woman rumoured to be close to my future husband," she said with a smirk.

Your heart sank at the cruel tone in Alysanne's voice, and your voice trembled as you replied, "Your future husband?"

Alysanne nodded, her expression filled with mockery. 

"Yes, Princess. Cregan and I have been promised to each other since birth. It's a marriage that our families have long arranged, for the good of both our houses."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you turned away to hide your emotions. You felt a crushing weight on your chest, the realization that the man you had grown to care for deeply was bound by duty to another. 

Your voice was barely a whisper as you asked, "How long have you known about this?"

Alysanne's tone was sharp and cutting as she replied, "I've known for a while, but I wanted to meet you before the wedding. I wanted to see the foolish girl who thought she could steal Cregan away from his duty."

Your heart ached with a mixture of sadness and resignation. You had to accept the reality of the situation, no matter how much it hurt. 

Alysanne reached out with a mocking smile, but her touch was far from comforting as she placed her hand on your shoulder. 

"I know this must be difficult for you, Princess, as you are probably used to having whatever your heart desires. But you should have known better. Cregan was never yours to have."

Later that very same day, when the sun had begun to set over Winterfell, casting long shadows across the castle grounds, you were sitting alone on a stone bench, your thoughts consumed by the hurtful encounter with Lady Alysanne. You had been lost in your own misery when Cregan approached, his expression filled with concern.

"Princess, I heard about what happened with Lady Alysanne," Cregan began, his voice gentle. "I wanted to make sure you're all right."

Your heart ached at the sound of his voice, but you tried to ignore him, focusing on the setting sun instead. You couldn't bear to look at him, not now, not after everything that had transpired.

Cregan, undeterred by your silence, took a step closer, "Please, let me explain."

Your emotions, raw and uncontainable, finally burst forth. You turned to face him, eyes filled with tears, and voice trembling with pain. 

"Explain? You don't deserve to give me an explanation now, Cregan. Not after all that has happened between us."

Cregan's expression was one of genuine regret as he reached out to touch your arm, "Listen, please, just hear me out."

You couldn't bear to listen any longer. The words that had been building up inside you for so long spilled out in a rush. 

"You should have told me, Cregan. You should have told me that you were promised to another, that you could never belong to me. You should have told me before you kissed me under the stars, before you spun me around in gilded ballrooms. Before you made me hope for something that wasn't real."

Tears streamed down your face, and your voice broke as you continued. 

"I hate you, Cregan."

For a moment, there was silence between the two of you, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air. Cregan's face showed a mix of pain and sadness, but he said nothing in response. You yearned for him to tell you that you were wrong. To tell you that you didn't hate him and that he certainly did not hate you and that he would be yours after all. 

He opened his mouth but no words came out. 

I love you.

The words were just on the tip of his tongue but he could not force them out. He could not be selfish enough to give you hope when he was bound by duty. 

There never lived a Stark who broke an oath.

That was what Cregan's father had always told him, and he wasn't about to be the first stark to do so. And so Cregan chose to remain silent and eventually, he walked away, leaving you surrounded by the shards of your broken heart. Your hands came up to muffle the broken sobs that escaped your lips and the tears that streaked down your face were a testimony to your lie. You could claim to hate him all you want but one did not mourn this much for someone they hated. 

You left the very next morning, after a hasty goodbye to the few people you had gotten to know during your stay at Winterfell and with a heavy heart, you directed your dragon toward your true home. You didn't think you could bear to watch him marry Lady Alysanne and it was better for you to leave now with at least some of your dignity intact. 

~ I hate you and I mean it. 

Several years had passed since the painful encounter with Cregan in the gardens of Winterfell. In the intervening years, much had changed. Your mother had taken the throne after the passing of your grandfather, King Viserys and you had been named her official heir. When news of a great war in the North reached the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Rhaenyra Targaryen, she saw an opportunity to strengthen her alliances and sent her two eldest children, you and Jace, to aid House Stark in the battle, accompanied by their dragons.

With the might of dragons at your side, the two of you made quick work of the war, helping to secure a decisive victory for the Starks. The sight of dragons soaring through the northern skies struck fear into the hearts of their enemies, and soon, the war was won.

In celebration of their triumph, House Stark held a grand feast in honour of the Targaryen siblings. The Great Hall of Winterfell was adorned with banners, and tables groaned under the weight of a sumptuous feast. Nobles from across the North had gathered to pay their respects to the Dragonriders.

You couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of emotions as you walked the familiar halls of Winterfell once more. The memories of your time here, both the joyful moments and the painful ones, flooded back to you. You had changed so much since then, and the scars of the past had faded but not entirely disappeared.

As you and Jace were introduced to the Northern lords and ladies, the atmosphere was one of jubilation and gratitude. The Starks were effusive in their praise, grateful for the Targaryens' aid in securing their victory.

You couldn't help but notice that Cregan was among those present, his gaze fixed on you. There was a tension in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the past and the wounds that still lingered. You had returned to Winterfell as a powerful figure, a dragon rider and an heir to the throne, but the history between you and Cregan remained.

The feast was a boisterous affair, with music and revelry filling the Great Hall. You watched as Cregan hovered about his wife almost constantly, his hand gentle on her protruding abdomen as he guided her about the room. 

As the feast at Winterfell continued, your shock deepened when you noticed a young boy running towards Cregan with gleeful abandon. The boy called out, "Father!" with pure excitement, and Cregan, with a warm smile, hoisted the child onto his shoulders. They paraded around the room, making their way through the nobles who cheered and greeted them.

You watched in disbelief as Cregan introduced the boy to the gathered lords and ladies, his paternal pride evident in every gesture. The sight of Cregan with the child sent a pang of bitterness and resentment through you. You knew that Cregan's marriage to Lady Alysanne had likely produced offspring, but seeing it firsthand was a painful reminder of what could never be between the two of you.

Finally, the little boy and Cregan reached you and Jace. The child's dark, pale freckled skin and dark curls were identical to Alysanne's, but it was his eyes that caught your attention. They were the very same stormy grey eyes that you had noticed on Cregan the first time you had met him.

Cregan introduced the boy with a proud smile. 

"This is my son, Rickon."

Cregan caught your eye and you caught a brief flash of regret pass through him before he schooled his expression into a pleasant grin. He turned back to his son, his face softening entirely as he gazed at him with adoration so tender that it speared right through your heart. 

I hate you, Cregen Stark. I hate you for finding happiness without me. I hate you for not fighting for me. I hate you for your stupid oaths and your stupid loyalties. I hate you. 

You were wise enough to keep your angry thoughts to yourself, but for the first time in your life, you found that you actually meant them. perhaps that made you a cruel and callous monster but you did not care. You hated Cregan Stark more than anything else and wondered, not for the first time, if you should have advised your mother against sending you to help out in the war. Still, you were your mother's daughter and if there was one person you loved with your entire heart, it was her. If helping the Starks win their war secured their support for your mother, then you would bury your heavy heart and do it for her. 

As the evening wore on, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on the festivities. The bitter taste of jealousy and regret lingered in your mouth, a constant reminder of the life that could have been but was now forever out of reach. Whatever Cregan thought of Alysanne, it was clear that he loved their children and very soon there would be even more to cherish if Alysanne's laboured breaths and swollen belly said anything. You couldn't escape the feeling that you were a stranger in a place that had once held such significance in your life. The years had changed you, and Winterfell had changed as well. There was no longer any room for you and you couldn't wait to return home. 

A/N: reblog and comment please, it really motivates me and I love reading yalls thoughts <3

[lemonhemlock]

rhaenys is such a hypocrite. she is an actual claimant to the iron throne and has a female, egg-laying dragon at her disposal, thus allowing her to provide dragon eggs for her own children, which she absolutely does! at one point, house velaryon ends up with two dragonriders (rhaenys & laenor), the exact amount house targaryen has (daemon, rhaenyra). when laena claims vhagar, the balance actually becomes 3-2. 

she is married to corlys velaryon, a very rich man with the ability to summon a very impressive fleet - military might few other lords can dispose of. this grants her a high amount of privilege that no other woman in westeros has, not even aemma or alicent (a half-targaryen with no dragon and a lowly andal woman with no special magical blood, daughter of a second son, not even the lord of oldtown).

yet rhaenys spends the entirety of her life kowtowing to the men around her, even acquiescing to the batshit crazy ploy of marrying her 12-year-old daughter to the king, just because her husband is obsessed with the idea of being the future king’s grandfather. she allows rhaenyra to make a mockery of her adoptive house by having 3 obvious bastards. yes, laenor should be giving part of the blame because he accepts to be cuckolded in such a conspicuous manner, but it creates very real, very valid feelings of disgruntlement within the velaryon cousins when it comes to succession rights. passing off jace as a legitimate heir to the iron throne could be brushed off as the targaryens’ problem, but pushing luke as a claimant to the driftwood throne is absolutely house velaryon’s problem. rhaenys ultimately accepts her granddaughters to be relegated to the status of wives, when they should be heiresses in their own right. she bends over backwards to accommodate rhaenyra when she believes she had her own son killed, just because her husband wants bragging rights for being the king’s “grandfather”!!! this is insane!!! 

jace won’t even be a velaryon when he becomes king, since viserys insisted he revert to the surname targaryen. his kingship isn’t even guaranteed, since he is so obviously not laenor’s child, that a succession war is very likely to be fought over his illegitimacy. so what exactly is all of this tomfoolery even for? 

and then she has the gall to lecture alicent about serving the patriarchy. girl, please go out and touch some grass!!! 😭

how could alicent “imagine herself on the iron throne” when she has zero claim to it? rhaenys, like rhaenyra, has done nothing for the rights of womankind, but enjoys lording over other women, mocking their coping mechanisms. 

how about she start imagining baela on the driftwood throne instead and actually does something about it

[backjustforberena]

Things that make me think during the 2x4 scene with Rhaenys, Alyn, Corlys:

Firstly, just a note, I love how she is at the dry dock. We know she's fairly comfortable there (she was there only last week and she's lived on Driftmark for decades) but it's just great to actually see her amongst the people she rules and serves, and see them bow in deference to her as their lady. Even that lack of acknowledgement of it is quite nice to see as she's just used to it, unbothered by it and not considerate of it, which suggests confidence and power.

Also HECK YEAH for Velaryon theme and using it for Rhaenys.

Curious as to what others think: do we think she goes to the dock to meet Alyn? My gut says no - she's there to see Corlys and the relevant information is to say that Baela's called her back. But there is something there. Plus, she's had all these years to seek him out and never has. I think she has a good idea of who she's going to meet, or is aware of the possibility, even if her purpose isn't to meet him, from the information she got from the captains.

And then she gets to the boat and he's right there. And he looks so much like Corlys, it's ridiculous and I think that puts her guard up. I think it's absolutely her guard talking when she makes him address her as Princess. It's putting a barrier, it's hiding in formality, it's taking strength from rank. There's a lovely little pause in between "and you are" and "Alyn".

But then she looks at him and there is a curiosity and a compassion, I think. This is the closest thing she's got to a clue or to any information at all other than the bare bones of it because she hasn't gone searching. Something that registered to me, instantly, is how Alyn is very, very unwilling to be there. He can't even look her in the eye.

AND THEN SHE PUTS HER HAND TO HIS FACE. And it's aching. It's so... gentle, and so light and it stretches out as he all but flinches but she's barely touching him. It's also not a caress, or strictly something for a loved one or a child: we've seen her do that and it's a closed palm to a cheek. There's a... I don't know, a clinical nature to it? As if she might turn his head to the side to get a better look: "But I was not told his saviour was so comely."

"YOUR MOTHER MUST'VE BEEN VERY BEAUTIFUL" - oooh that's such a good line delivered with so much feeling. It's the only real insight we get into Rhaenys's opinion or view of the affair at all. To me, and I am aware there are varies interpretations but this is what it means for me, it is Rhaenys saying: Only an extraordinary woman could have been enough. It's not a comment on Alyn's looks at all, because he looks like his father. It's about what this woman MUST have been like for Corlys to stray in the way that he did. And the idea that this woman must have been so beautiful and so wonderful is both a testament to the love Rhaenys and Corlys share (because it's not broken by something trifling or common or ordinary or mundane and it's not in Corlys's character to have done this) but also a testament to Rhaenys's pain. Because there MUST be this beautiful woman who was somehow greater than her and special and special enough to have taken a little piece of Corlys's heart (as she assumes).

And, I do just want to point out, that Corlys's affair isn't a reveal in this scene. This scene is not a discovery of his infidelity. Rhaenys has known for years. The hurt that she's feeling is not from the shock or the first reaction to finding out her husband has had an affair that has produced a son (two of them). It is the pain of an old wound, and the feelings dredged up by confronting the reality before her and the events before her.

This shot ^^^^. This. Look at it. Look at how that's set up. That's so interesting to me. I don't know what it is. Corlys being up there on the high ground, being like some sort of looming presence (because, of course, he is what connects these two characters) - but positioning him so that it looks like Rhaenys is the transgressor. Which, in a way, she possibly is, by confronting this issue and stepping over a line which is what this secret sort of has been for both of them. It's destabilising, for Rhaenys to suddenly be a part of that dynamic of Corlys and Alyn, or for Alyn to be a part of that dynamic of Corlys and Rhaenys as well. It's the worlds meeting and it's through her actions.

But also, the flip side of Corlys being some sort of "judgement", there's also the powerlessness. He cannot stop what is happening, only watch. Only interrupt, at most. Genie out of the bottle. Worst fears realised. You're absolutely scuppered, mate.

And then the sort of thud putting the arm down. The brief look of displeasure on her face. What might she have said or done, had Corlys not interrupted? We'll never know. But she sees something else - how Alyn reacts to the sound of his father's voice. The sheer lack of a relationship there, as he's dismissed. Her attention is on Alyn, throughout. Not on Corlys.

So Alyn goes and Corlys stands there like a man about to be judged. When she begins, and he gets, what I think he sees as confirmation that they are going to actually discuss Alyn, he moves her away from the ship and his men. He's prepping to defend himself, prematurely. And she's studying him even as she consents to being moved. Her eyes don't go from his face.

Hand on waist. Hand on waist. Hand on waist.

"You did not think to mention it?" Corlys, buddy, that is a prod (anger/pain) but that is also an opening (compassion/love). It's an invitation. One he rejects. But she's not a fool. So, she tells him plainly, she WHISPERS it: "I know who he is, Corlys."

The next bit is ripping Rhaenys's guts out. Know how I know? I know because Rhaenys, for the first time, isn't meeting Corlys's eyes. Not that she can, he's ducked away out of shame. But she's lowered her own gaze because she's retreated. Burying the personal for the pragmatic. Sacrificing the emotional for the formal and for the "right thing". Rhaenys is not okay with this. Rhaenys is forcing herself to do this. And there's the gorgeous fragility to her voice as she's saying about raising him up and saving his lord's (aka HIS FATHER'S) life.

Corlys strikes out like prey: attack first, then you have the advantage because he expects her to lash out, to be angry, to be using this against him in some way. It's very typical of Corlys (he does it the same when discussing the boys in 1x07). And she just looks so disappointed in him and hurt by him and, also, I think, a little hurt for him. Because she loves him. And he's not right.

I'm also always thinking about how Rhaenys manages to keep her own power in a moment or a scene and she absolutely manages to keep the power in this conversation, despite being "caught out", despite Corlys's accusations, despite also being hit with this symbol of past hurt and being the injured party in all of this. She keeps her own power by keeping her cool and denying Corlys the reaction that he expects. She's denying him the fight that he wants and the surrender he wants it to end with. He has no power in this conversation. She does, even if there's no winning to it.

But, ultimately, heartbreakingly, she knows she's not having the discussion. They're not going to talk about it or air it out. She's not going to get what she needs in that moment. So, she takes control again. And she physically moves and angles her body away from him. Rhaenys doesn't look at him again, all while she tells him of Baela and Dragonstone. Not until she says: "I suspect to try and draw us all back from the abyss" which is just sooo revealing of her headspace and all that she's holding and it takes Corlys by surprise.

Eve has said that Rhaenys's vulnerability surrounding Corlys feels very much like an earthquake for her. Literally not having the safety of the earth to rely on. I think that's highlighted here at the end because she doesn't have the support of her husband. He becomes "other" to her, no more than the men at the council. He questions her actions, questions Rhaenyra and doesn't understand what she's dealing with or what she's fearing and she doesn't have the time to explain it, admonish him or ask him for his help (luckily he does rectify this by showing up for her later in the episode, but it's a sad note to end the scene on).

[simpingland]

The Guide and the Companion.// Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!oc Part 2

Part 1. Part 3. Part 4.

Summary: Gaella runs from the greens, hoping to be welcomed by the Blacks and more specifically the Prince Jacaerys. The feelings are strong but even in the same side, both of them find themselves way to separated by the past.

A/N: very angst. Hope you like it, the struggle is real.

A pyre could be seen burning in the distance, and the nervousness in Gaella grew even more. Someone was being burned and Erryk changed his path to where the people were gathering. The greyish cloak that covered Gaella momentarily maintained her identity, but swords were raised before the newcomers. And as the knight knelt, relinquishing the crown to Daemon and uttering an oath to Rhaenyra, Gaella's knees took a while to settle to the ground. As she let her white hair fly, her green skirt became stained with dirt and she ducked her head. She dared not turn around, but she would have seen all those people landing on their knees, and Jace looking up to watch the Princess, who looked as repentant as Jace had imagined, though it pained him to see her in that humiliating position.

"Gaella," Rhaenyra called as she approached the girl. "Have you come to swear fealty to me? Or to betray me?"

"No, your Majesty..." her voice trembled, and fear showed even in her eyes. "I fled before I even saw Aegon crowned. I kneel before you alone."

"You understand that you cannot be trusted..." Daemon spoke dryly, his hands resting on his sword.

"Please, I come empty-handed, weary and eager to serve Rhaenyra. No one who knows Aegon can see him as a king." Gaella was quick to justify herself, losing her composure. She was startled when Daemon tugged at her cloak, revealing that bejewelled green gown.

"You have always been more than willing to support him, Princess. You are like your brothers, a product of your grandfather." Though Daemon spoke, Rhaenyra seemed to be watching and thinking something apart. As Gaella's tears welled up, Jace hurried to the spot.

"She hasn't always been willing!" Jace corrected him. "In fact, I doubt if she ever was."

His voice was serious and powerful, but Gaella felt it as if it were the most beautiful voice in the world, that of an angel to her rescue.

"You'll have a room, food and water. But we will not let you roam the castle at will. This is a war for everyone," Rhaenyra said. She walked off, leaving everyone walking behind her. Only Gaella remained on the ground, and Jace at her side. In the eerie silence, the Princess would not raise her head, nor would she say a word. But she did let Jace put the cloak back on her shoulders. She rose on her own and followed some distance behind the Prince.

"Watch out for the stones," the boy said to her.

"Jacaerys..." Gaella stopped, so did Jace. "Whose pyre was it?"

"My little sister's, Visenya."

His eyes avoided Gaella's, looking out at the sea and the mountains. In front of her was her once friend, heartbroken for her sister.

"Oh...I am heartily sorry, my Prince."

Then she touched his arm, stroking his sleeve and searching his eyes.

"I know, Gaella. I'm sorry about you, too."

"Me?"

"I suppose you feel frightened. But you've done well."

"And how do you know that?"

"It's a gut feeling."

Gaella wanted to roll her eyes at that, Jace always so whimsical. And Jace could read her thinking because he smiled a little as he watched her endure a sarcastic comment, Gaella always so logical. He wiped away her tears without thinking it too much and walked back towards the castle. But he kept that skin on his memory for way too long, and Gaella did as well kept repeating that touch, so simple and intimate.

"Come on, I'll sattle you a good chamber," Jace told her with a little more cheerfulness. "The new Prince of Dragonstone welcomes you, Princess Gaella."

And behind him, with calm sorrow and diffused fear, Gaella smiled after a long time.

She may not have been locked in the cell, but no one encouraged her to leave her chambers, and the three guards behind her door signalled that they would know when Gaella could come out. Such passive aggressiveness was something Jace was ashamed of. The Princess had been brought to her knees, having travelled in a tiny boat for a whole day and night, leaving behind a lifetime, and all of a sudden. And during the queen's first meeting, he couldn't concentrate. He could imagine Gaella pacing her room, breathing nervously and fearing for everything. And by the time they could finally spare him, night had fallen.

"Mother, will Gaella come down to dinner?" asked Luke, who had seen his older brother's lack of concentration.

"If she wishes, yes."

"I will escort her to the dinning room, my Queen." Jace left before he even had his mother's approval. All those who had known Jace or Gaella since childhood exchanged glances, knowing the fixation they felt for each other.

Gaella was startled by the pounding on her door, and hesitated, unwilling to open the door to just anyone.

"Who is it?" she asked, glued to the door.

"It's me, Princess Gaella... Jacaerys." His voice sounded courteous, perhaps too much so. "You are invited to dine with us."

Then Gaella opened, not quite, just enough to see his face.

"Rhaenyra..."

"Your Majesty, The Queen," the boy corrected her.

"The Queen...wants me to dine with you?"

"She insist." He stood removed, his posture straight and rigid, but his eyes held a soft gaze.

"Be honest. Are you going to kill me?" Gaella let herself lean against the edge of the door, wanting to rest her hands on Jace, but settling for the wood.

"The meat here isn't very good...but you couldn't say it is capable of killing."

Then he smiled tenderly and Gaella wanted to hug him. Instead she pushed him away holding back a laugh. She managed to take a step out of her room and Jace pointed the way they should go. Again he was her guide, only this time he offered her an arm.

"Wow...I didn't remember you being such a gentleman."

"I wasn't. I have learned." And despite his offer, Gaella restrained herself from accepting it, tangling her hands in the belt of her own dress.

"Of course, a highborn wife deserves nothing less than a gentleman." She remembered that dinner, with those complicit smiles and flirting. And Jace's smile disappeared.

"And even knights can be disappointing."

"And kings too..." Gaella joked back. "Men in general are a headache."

"Some women claim that men have no heads."

"And that's true. And that's why women have to think for them, and it's too much work, Jace."

The prince stopped in his tracks, halting the ride. The Princess knew at once why, but she wanted to pretend she didn't understand, while Jace smirked.

"Jace? Did my ears hear right?"

Gaella rolled her eyes.

"If it bothers you I'll go back to calling you Jacaerys."

"And what about 'my prince'?" Jace continued on his way, trying to catch Gaella's gaze as she ignored him again.

"Now I don't want to call you that. You make it sound weird."

"I'll call you by whatever name you want as long as you call me by whatever name I want. That's a good deal, isn't it?"

"I guess...I'd like to be called 'great princess Gaella the wise and beautiful', if it's not too much trouble."

"Alright..." she could smell the food, the road was going to end. "I will think of my name during dinner, Princess Gaella the wise and beautiful."

" 'Great' Princess Gaella, the wise and beautiful."

"I'm sorry, Great Princess Gaella, the wise and beautiful. Though it is costing me too much, could you choose another name?"

"I will decide over dinner."

The dinner in question was rather tense. With Daemon and Rhaenyra constantly looking at you. No one spoke of wars or alliances and the silence was so sepulchral that not even Gaella dared to eat to keep the noise down. She could also see Baela and Jace out of the corner of her eye, sitting together again, though this time not even they spoke.

"Why have you changed your mind, Gaella?" the Queen asked at last.

The girl's gaze rested on Jace for a moment, he was looking at her as well. Then she focused on Rhaenyra, trying to prove she wasn't lying.

"I've never had things so clear before. It was a sleepless night before the coronation. And I felt I was making a mistake by bowing to Aegon. Also...someone close to you made me see things a bit differently. Made me feel seen. Ser Erryk was more than willing to help me, he never agreed with Aegon's behaviour, unlike his brother."

That someone who made her see things differently would remain locked in her heart, and Jace would only suspect that he was the great reason in question.

"The knight has admitted to me that he trusts you. And I trust him. I would like you to come to the meeting tomorrow." Rhaenyra then focused on eating, though she was the only one. The others were left watching the Queen or the Princess.

The girl's smile sent an irritating glee through Jace's chest, and he had to restrain himself from smiling too. He was glad to have her around again. When dinner was over, everyone retired to their rooms, and Jace paused to say goodbye to his fiancée with an overly polite kiss on the hand, even Baela blushed. And Gaella watched, wanting to smack herself for having been such a fool.

On her way to her room, she didn't turn around when she heard Jace behind her.

"I've decided that I like 'Jace' better than 'Jacaerys', it brings back good memories." He watched as Gaella kept walking, and soon caught up with her. "But I'm starting to get the hang of that intonation you use when you call me 'my prince'...your voice is too pretty when you utter it, and knowing you mean me is even better."

It was now Gaella who stopped in mid-stride. Her eyes seemed darker than ever. And Jace understood nothing, really nothing.

"What are you playing at?"

"I beg your pardon?" Jace looked at her as if he could understand her better by doing it.

"I said I don't understand what you're playing at. You full my head with pretty words and make me forget that you have a wife-to-be who adores you. So much so that you make me abandon my family to feel that I'm wanted here."

"I really don't understand you, Gaella, you've abandoned your family all by yourself, that's what the dinner was about, isn't it?" Jace was going from confused to angry as he noticed the responsibility they were starting to put on his shoulders.

"I have been judged and locked up. And you come back with your words and gestures that make me believe that you really want me. You make me forget about Baela and how much you love her. And then I see that I'm just an excuse to boost your ego."

"Don't be unfair. Did you really expect me to ignore Baela...for you?" Those words came out in a way Jace didn't mean, and they struck Gaella like an arrow to the heart. "I can understand that you were made to choose sides, but you chose to ignore me completely for years."

"Poor thing, who didn't get his letters from me praising the nonsense you did every day, or how well you learn your lessons or how chivalrous you are...how can I ever repay you?" Gaella's sarcasm made Jace feel stupid and angry by the minute.

"If I had been fair I would have decided not to speak to you for another six years. But I've been good and understanding. Because I thought you were my friend. I didn't want your praise, just for you to be safe...happy." his voice was beginning to fail him and he could see Gaella's chin quiver.

"I had people I loved at King's Landing. Helaena, my nephews, my mother, I had a whole life. And you can't belittle it when you seek my praise because Baela's isn't enough. You make fun of me, but you'll always be a child."

"I'm sorry I got your hopes up. But I did not put you in a boat, nor did I make you kneel before the Queen. Don't throw it in my face that you regret what you've done. And mind you, if I was anyone else I would run and tell her Majesty that your loyalty to her is that weak."

The distance seemed to grow between you in the middle of the corridor. Just hours ago you had walked it with joy, but now it felt cold and echoing.

"I think you should be fair, Jacaerys," Gaella swallowed, holding back tears right there. "I don't want you to speak to me for another six years."

As Gaella slipped into her room, Jace walked slowly past her door, and he felt a sting on his chest to hear her cry on the other side.

The next morning, Gaella wandered the halls trying to find the room with the painted table, where the first meeting would take place. Jace saw her on his way, and without saying a word to her, made a noise that would attract her attention and pretended not to see her. Then he resumed his way without haste, knowing that the girl was following him at a distance, and in that way he managed to guide her without crossing words.

Glances were inevitable. Already dressed in red, Gaella had a simple appearance, the form that most fascinated Jace, and she smiled at Rhaenyra as she drew her close to the table. And when she connected her eyes to Jace's, he could see the redness of tears, and only wished she could have rested after all those stressful nights before.

When his mother gave them the task of travelling as messengers, Jace accepted his destination to the north. The desire to see Winterfell overcame the nervousness of doing a task in the midst of war and alone.

"Though I think, Jace," his mother continued, "your task is too difficult for your age. You should have company. "

"But Luke is going to Stormlands, the objective is to go fast and we must split up..."

"Take someone else with you. One willing to fly," interrupted the Queen. Jace looked at Baela, seeking a smile of approval, but the girl looked down at the ground. "The twins have other duties here, they can't accompany you."

He turned to his mother in confusion. The last thing Jace wanted was to be alone with Daemon, he would hinder his mission. But when Rhaenyra looked to the right of the table, when Jace realized who his mother's choice was, he changed his mind. Daemon would be the second to last person she wanted.

"Princess Gaella will be a good help. I'm more than sure."

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Taglist: @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

[unicorncornflakes]

Dark Desire - Modern AU! | Chapter 16

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (Coming soon)

Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

Summary: Aemond doesn't know how he feels every time he sees you. Neither do you when you look at him. Your father Aegon has always been absent from your upbringing ever since he divorced your mother. That role has been filled by Aemond until last summer, when everything changed.

Tags:  Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Emotional Hurt/ Comfort/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: This fic includes  manipulation, violence, death, and inc3st, at some points. Reader has purple eyes and her mother is from Dayne House, the rest is complete free :D

Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know):  @thedamewithabook @afro-hispwriter @chainsawsangel @thetrueblackheart @atherverybest @itsabby15 @boundlessfantasy @partypoison00 @glame @tempo-rary-fix @tssf-imagines @aaaaaamond @imaloserbby @youngcomputerpuppy @aemondsfavouritebastard @cloudroomblog @queenofshinigamis @bluevxnus @wooya1224 @serving-targaryen-realness @darkenchantress @padfooteyes @mariannnavao @moonlightfoxx @jennifer0305 @ammo23 @iloveallmyboys @tempt-ress @bellameshipper @okfashionista @shelbyteller @dahlias-and-marigolds @the-knights-of-ne @bellaisasleep @watercolorskyy

Author´s note:  Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 5K

Acknowledgment: To @ammo23 for the brilliant corrections and the wonderull work as beta reader, for all the amazing rewiews, comments and refletions, for all the patience and the love that always shows for my writing. Thank you so much for all the time that you spend with this. Thank you so much for everything. :D

Someone made a joke again in High Valyrian, and everyone at that table laughed. Everyone except you.

The truth is that what was so characteristic of the Targaryen’s, to speal in their mother tongue, was something that you had not even dreamed of. Your mother had tried to take you to school when you were just a little girl to please your father's family, but she had stopped when she got mad at your father again over some stupid custody term. You had only heard High Valyrian occasionally from your uncle's lips during the summers. But, you had yet to learn. It was just another of the many things that separated you from that part of your family. Yet at that moment, at that table, where you were having dinner with some of your uncle's college friends, all silver and blond heads and sunset eyes, you couldn't feel more out of place.

You had arrived at Sunspear that same afternoon, and after simply leaving your suitcase in what was to be your supposed room and taking a shower, Aemond had asked you to go down to dinner with some of his friends that he only saw at that conference. You had put on a short, tight dress, heels that made you look much taller, and you had painted your lips with Aemond's lipstick. Almost like a trophy that your uncle had claimed and obtained, you walked out of the room. Aemond smiled an approving, arrogant, proud smile and placed his hand on the small of your back as he led you into the hotel's dining room.

Clement Celtigar commented in High Valyrian, and your uncle and Alyn Velaryon laughed, the latter slamming the table hard and causing his wife, sitting right next to him, to narrow her eyes. You sipped shyly from your glass. The Targaryen necklace dangling from your neck, and yet everyone sitting at that table had more Valyrian blood running through their veins than you ever would. You weren't a Targaryen, even though Aemond insisted on calling you his ‘little dragon’.

Celtigar's wife, a stunning woman with long hair, full lips, and rosy cheeks, asked you something in High Valyrian. She had a sincere smile, but in her eyes, you saw something akin to sly, suggestive amusement. Alyn Velarion's wife smiled as well. Both were waiting for your answer. They were both, like their husbands, of a similar age to your uncle. You couldn't be more out of place at that dinner. Your uncle leaned back in his chair, putting his arm around the back of yours, almost expecting you to answer what they had asked you. You bit your lip and looked nervously at your uncle to quickly lower your gaze back to the plate that had your food.

"Sorry, I don't speak High Valyrian," you whispered, Aemond remained impassive. You could see the disappointment in him, almost as if he had expected you to speak it because of the simple fact of your last name. You saw how Celtigar's wife looked at Alyn's with a smirk, and Clement raised the glass to his lips, amused.

"Well, don't worry, our children have a hard time learning too. They are about your age," BeatrithCeltigar commented as she looked at her husband, almost amused and with a smile that hid almost an underlying contempt.

"You could have at least told us that you didn't speak it. We would have spoken in the common tongue." Loren Velaryon smiled at you with a wide, sincere smile while her husband looked at Celtigar, who smiled back in almost the same way. "Bea was asking you where you met."

You looked at your uncle, who was about to speak when you responded almost automatically. "In a bar," was all you said. You had noticed that no one at that table knew you were Aemond's niece. He had simply introduced you by name, and then the others had started talking about what you thought was business and anecdotes from his college years. Aemond left his other hand on the table. Arm outstretched as he timidly tapped his glass. You knew he only did it when he was nervous, but his face was unfazed. A Valyrian statue. That's what he was. You thought that everyone there knew of your existence, that everyone thought you were his niece, and you couldn't be more wrong. Aemond had introduced you as his partner, even though you hadn't understood. He wanted to give you your place, although, at that moment, he realized his mistake. Perhaps all of them had seen the images of the charity gala, but it was too late. It had been a stupid mistake.

"I can't imagine Aemond having a drink in a bar." Clement laughed, and Alyn did exactly the same. Both friends started laughing while Aemond continued undaunted. You had never met a single friend of your uncle's, but it was clear that all of them were not what you had expected.

"At least tell us that you found out she was already 18", laughed Alyn while his wife hit him on the arm for the profanity of his comment.

"Of course I did, asshole", Aemond roared, quite annoyed at the laughter of his friends. You blushed at that spectacle and tried to take another sip from your drink under the watchful eye of Celtigar's wife. "The Celtigar live in Yi Ti and the Velaryon in the summer islands", your uncle whispered in your ear, almost as if that was an explanation of why none of them had seen on television what had been repeated for weeks until your uncle bought absolutely everything. Money bought silence, and from what you understood at the time, those people were rich enough to live in an ivory tower where the rest of the news that concerned other mortals did not reach. You didn't like those people. They just looked down on you because they could. Their money and their status allowed it.

"She's very pretty, mind you," Loren commented, almost as if you weren't there. "And you'll probably learn High Valyrian soon. The best way to learn it is between the sheets. Aemond always said that to his girlfriends in college." Everyone laughed, and you saw your uncle smirk, but the truth is that he had never spoken to you in High Valyrian in bed, that he would have done it with other women. It just got on your nerves. Jealous. Really jealous. That was the word.

"Yara learned it super well", Bea commented while her husband nodded in silence. "And you were only there a couple of months, but she was an intelligent woman." Yara must have been one of your uncle's ex-girlfriends. She was smart, not like you. That comment let you know what that table was thinking about you at that moment. Clement agreed.

"I always thought you would marry her. All that bullshit about PhD and ancient Valyria. It was your stuff," Celtigar commented as he cut into his steak. "At least it was what I bet with Alyn", he said, pointing at him with the knife, while the man Velaryon felt uncomfortable before that conversation. Almost as uncomfortable as you felt. Aemond looked at you for a moment. You just looked sad, and he said something in High Valyrian that made Clement almost stop chewing. Both Celtigar’s were the ones now looking uncomfortable.

"The nice thing is that I've never seen Aemond so happy", Loren commented while her husband smiled sincerely. Aemond held your chin and kissed you in front of all of them. It was almost like a statement of what he felt. Your first kiss in public. He didn't plan to hide anymore. He was tired. You made him happy. That was all he needed. You were having dinner in that VIP room. The six of them alone, but it was certainly a statement that he wasn't going to hide anymore.

"Where are you from, (Y/N)?" Alyn asked almost innocently, and you went almost pale after that brief contact of your lips with your uncle's. You thought of something quick to say before Aemond spoke up and answered for you.

"From Starfall", you tried to smile "(Y/N) Dayne." You smiled, and Alyn was pleased with your answer. You continued eating in silence while they all returned to their conversation about money and luxuries. They toasted you and Aemond, and though you did not see it, your uncle's gaze darkened.

As he toasted, he looked at his glass, full of meaningless bubbles. You would never see yourself as a Targaryen. He would never make you feel like this. As much as he tried, you’re identifying yourself as a Dayne was proof of that. Not a Dayne. Not a Targaryen. You would always feel out of place. Always.

The room that Alys had booked for you in that hotel was right next to Aemond’s suite. It was intended for the small children of those who were staying at that hotel. The journey there had been silent until you got to the door of your room. Aemond had opened it with his hand leaning on it, and you had slipped into the shadows, closing it behind you. You heard your uncle's hesitant footsteps as he entered through the huge door of his suite. It was bullshit. What you just did. You took off your heels and dropped into Aemond's suite through the connecting door. Your uncle hadn't bolted the bolt that joined them, and that only served to prevent small children from sneaking into the intimate moments of the older ones. That situation was stupid, and you just sat on Aemond's bed in silence.

With his back to you, he undressed without much desire. That dinner had been tense. His best friends from college had always been a bunch of assholes, but after the comments they'd made to him about you while saying goodbye,they weren't people he liked very much.

He knew what they thought. They saw the difference in age, they saw your innocence, and they almost despised it. Luckily, no one had seen the bond that united you, and that greatly relieved him. He had been an asshole that night. He had tried to play house with you and had almost ruined everything. However, he still seemed annoyed with you. He unbuttoned his shirt as he looked at you, and you smiled at him beautifully, although he could see some sadness in your eyes. It was there, more accentuated than usual.

"You should, you should have said you were a Targaryen," he spoke without looking at you, still undressing, and your smile faltered, almost as if you hadn't heard him correctly. But, you had. "We've had this conversation before..." he said as he approached the bed and sat beside you. You nearly stirred like an attacked cat, though you tried to hide it. You've always been good at faking it.

"When we had it, we didn't sleep together, Aemond," you said without looking at him, remembering that night two years ago when he had encouraged you to wear your father's heraldry. It seemed almost like a lifetime had passed since that moment. "I don't want anyone to suspect. Fine if your friends live in their bubble, but the rest of the world doesn't, and…and…also, I'm not a Targaryen. I don't have the hair. I don't speak High Valyrian or…" there it was. The truth behind all those years. You were confessing it to the same man who seemed to be crazy about you for that simple fact.

Aemond looked ahead. He remembered all the times he had messed with the Strong boys for that very reason. but you were different. You were. You weren't a bastard. You were born to a Starfall woman, yes, but so had he been to a Hightower. You two were true Valyrian blood. He was more into that archetype of beauty, but your eyes... your eyes marked you as one of his. Yes. "You are a Targaryen in your own right, even if you don't speak High Valyrian or have the hair." He held your face in his hands. "And even if you weren't, I would still love you just the same." He swallowed hard while his one eye was fixed on you, who looked at him with bright eyes. "You are my everything."

"But your college girlfriends…and Alys…" you whispered. You had never been worried about jealousy until that moment when they all seemed like a better choice than you. At that moment, a tear ran down your face, and Aemond wiped it with one of his thumbs while continuing to hold your face, forcing eye contact,never to be lost.

"They are not you, (Y/N), and they never will be. You are above everything. You are everything to me, don't you see?" He whispered to you, almost desperate for you to understand that you were everything. "I would be willing to do anything for you. Absolutely everything"

"But we are always going to live in the shadow..." you whispered, coming back to the real world after those weeks of pure fantasy. This was the first time you talked about something truly momentous to your relationship, where you didn't just end up tangled between the sheets of a very expensive hotel room.

"No. Not always. I wanted tonight to be proof of that," he confessed to you. "There will be places we don't have to hide because no one will know who we are." Aemond almost said it as if it were a fantasy, but he was convinced it was a fantasy his money could buy. He had worked hard for it, for this moment, where he was really happy.

For the first time in a long time, he was happy, and no one was going to take that away from him. Although he had no idea how wrong he was, "I want you to trust me. I want you to tell me what worries you, what makes you sad, what makes you happy... I just want us to be together because you are what I need, what I've always needed," he whispered to you, closing his eye and leaning his forehead against yours. His closeness made all your hair stand on end, and you simply kissed him because, finally, that Aemond you had always known had returned to you.

"It's not what I asked for. It doesn't look like what I asked for at all." Alys looked up from her phone screen at the sound of a familiar voice. As she had showered, she had gone with the rest of her coworkers to have a drink at the hotel bar, but as always, she had stayed up late, almost waiting for someone to spend the night with. The prospect of sleeping with Meg wasn't something that excited her, and she needed company right now. She knew there would be others like her. Therefore, she had remained in that bar until well into midnight. Although she had realized something, she no longer aroused the same interest as before, and she had ended up playing with her mobile phone bored. However, at that moment, upon hearing that familiar voice, all her alarms went off. Perhaps she would sleep with someone that night.

"But it's art, Mr. Dayne", a boy who must have been your age, was talking to Gerold Dayne. Both were sitting at one of the tables near the bar. The boy, who had long white hair, almost looked like a copy of the Aemond, Alys had known of that young boy. The oil tycoon's son was talking to him while showing him some pictures on a laptop. Gerold must have been there for the simple fact that this congress moved millions, and, without a doubt, his father must have sent him there as an ambassador for the oil company. Gerold Dayne was not in business of his own accord. He had always been rather uninterested in all that, but despite his lack of interest in business, he was a man Alys had found likeable…and quite attractive.

"I am not arguing that it is art. I'm just telling you; it doesn't look like what I asked for. I am an entrepreneur. Not an artist," Gerold snapped at that boy, and that made Alys smile. Something must have changed in that wayward man from Starfall. "Try again. If you want that position in my advertising section, you are going to have to do better."

"Okay," the boy just sighed and looked up from the laptop at the same time that he closed it. Then, the boy's one-eyed gaze met Alys'. And she looked at him amazed. He was so similar to Aemond, even missing an eye, although this boy hid it not under an eyepatch but under a lock of hair. Albino with a red mark that covered a small part of his face. Alys couldn't take her eyes off him. That boy must be some Targaryen bastard. She was sure, but her thoughts were interrupted when Gerold saw her too and waved. The Dornishman shook the young man's hand and walked over to Alys.

Gerold's cute, teasing smile had always made Alys smile back, and he simply leaned against the bar. She stretched and sucked on the straw of her glass. "Alys Rivers alone. It must be my lucky night." Gerold smiled charmingly, and Alys laughed in a flirtatious way.

"I guess I'm not what I was any more." She laughed, without losing that sensual grin that had always turned so many men upside down, and Gerold sat next to her at the bar. He opened his purse and paid for the drink Alys was having. "Thank you", she replied, almost purring, and caressed her hand. Gerold just smiled, almost tired, as if all his seductive and scoundrel facets had disappeared at that moment.

"I know it was you who picked up the phone. I'm the one who should thank you," he answered without looking at her. He only asked to be served and took a drink in silence. Alys looked at him strangely, not knowing what to answer because she really didn't know what he was talking about. "The images of Aemond and (Y/N). I know that it was you who made the arrangements for them to disappear from the television and almost from the web. Even if it was with Aemond's money, I know it was you who arranged it all. Thank you," he repeated again. He looked at her with a sincere smile, and Alys simply put on her serious face.

"I was just following orders", she lied and took another sip from her drink, this time draining it to the end. "But if you want to buy me another one, I'm not going to complain." She finally smiled, and Gerold Dayne gave a half smile as he indicated to the waiter to get another drink for the secretary.

"I know it was to protect her, although I don't understand why" the Dornishman replied. Seeing Alys's bright eyes, he knew he hadn't been wrong. If anythingit attracted him to Alys. It was her almost feline cunning. "I have always liked your ability to handle everything in the shadows. Just before I picked up the phone, you already did it," he laughed.

"Were you going to buy the silence of the media?" Alys laughed as if it seemed impossible. The Daynes had money, but she didn't think it was as much as the Targaryen’s. That was impossible.

"I want her to be happy and my sister not die of disgust when she finds out what makes her happy." Gerold shrugged and took another sip of his drink, looking honestly at Alys. "Everything I do is for them. They are my family. It was hard for me to see it, but that's how it is." Gerold smiled when he saw how Alys's eyes shone. She was a good woman, even though the world had forced her to become the monster they thought she was, but she wasn't. Gerold was sure of it.

"It reminded me of when I was younger. That's all, and how I would have liked someone to help me," Alys swallowed, confessing what she did not want to confess. Because that confession unravelled more than she would have wanted to say, she had tried to change. She was getting it, and it made her feel better, even though it was pretty clear she was going to lose with it, or so she thought.

"You're a good person, Alys, even if you think you're not", he whispered in her ear and Alys, that Alys who thought she was cold and distant, blushed. "The first time I saw you so innocent on Daemond Targaryen's arm, I knew it." ended up smiling, completely disarming the woman who believed herself to be indestructible.

"So now you're getting serious about business, huh?" Alys smiled, trying to regain control of the situation. And Gerold laughed at that change of conversation. He knew women like Alys well; it was very difficult for them to ever let their guard down, but that was something he liked. It didn't bother him at all.

"Yeah, I told myself that if I wanted to leave anything for (Y/N) it was time to get to work. It's not that I like it, but I've discovered that I don't dislike it either," he commented again. Alys chewed on her inner cheek, trying to find a new topic of conversation. Truly, she didn't want to let Gerold go that night. For the first time in a long time, she was really at ease.

"The boy that was with you." Alys started to speak, and Gerold laughed. He had never taken her for someone so curious, but the Dornish only smiled in defeat and moved even closer to her.

"Yeah. He looks too much like Aemond. I even investigated to see if Aemond had had an affair that we didn't know about," he laughed. And Alys went pale, almost not believing what she had just heard. "No, he's a Targaryen bastard, but he's not Aemond's son," he laughed again, almost trying to reassure Alys. The truth is that she didn't care if Aemond had had a child. She cared that something like this could have escaped her information network. "(Y/N) was dating him. His name is Bryen Rivers, and I like him," he replied in a playful and amused tone, simply seeing how Alys's face went from worry to relief in a single instant. "If you like it and it brings back memories of better times, I can introduce you to him," Gerold joked, alluding to that time when Alys had been everything to Aemond.

"No, leave it. I'm tired of dragons," she replied, following her game, and Gerold laughed, fixing his violet eyes on her.

"Great, because I thought you were going to say you still had a thing for guys with silver hair. That would mean I'm out of the game," he replied in a suggestive tone, and Alys laughed. It was obvious that she wouldn't be sleeping in the same room with Meg tonight, but she was a spymaster, and she really needed that information.

"So, does he work for you?" Alys shrugged, wanting to know more about that boy. The more she knew, the better she could protect you, even if it was a task, she had ordered herself.

"He wants to work for me. Soon, he will study in the same school as (Y/N), and I guess he thinks that if he works for me, she will be interested in him again. I liked him for her, but I know she wasn't with him because she was in love." Gerold stretched again. "So, since I like him, I let him try to get into my publicity department. He's quite talented," he commented as if it were yet another corporate action, and that made Alys laugh. Gerold had changed. Very much. And that made her come to him like a moth to a flame.

"Tomorrow, I have a date to have lunch with (Y/N). We are both in the same conference, and I would find it ugly not to see her," he commented without looking at Alys. "I suppose she will be brought by Aemond. Which won't be a pleasant experience." He winked at Alys but then leaned closer to her, almost as if he were whispering in her ear. "I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me then. Tomorrow. The two alone."

"I thought we were going to have breakfast together," Alys replied in a suggestive purr that made Gerold laugh.

"I would love to, but for once, I would like to do things right. I think it would be quite an experience for both of us if, for the first time, we didn't sleep with that person that we are so attracted to, and we did things step by step." He smiled sincerely, honestly, as if Alys were not a toy but a person, and that made her heart race. She felt butterflies in her stomach, and she wanted the next day to come. It was the first time that she felt that they were not going to use her. There were two feelings in Gerold's words that Alys had rarely experienced: gratitude and honesty. She remembered that girl who had entered Daemon Targaryen's office for the first time, and her heart raced. She wanted to be that girl again.

She just nodded, and Gerold escorted her to her room like a real gentleman. Just reaching the door, Alys turned to say goodbye after opening her card, but the Dornishman didn't let her speak. He just kissed her silently. A touch of their lips that indicated something more than passion and desire. An underlying affinity began between them that Alys had never experienced.

She had been Daemon's lover, Aemond's confidant, but she had never felt what she felt in that moment. She had no words to explain it. "See you tomorrow, Alys," Gerold whispered to her again, and Alys slipped into her room. Not caring if it woke Meg up, she could only try to stifle a nervous, happy laugh against her bedroom door just after she closed it.

Aemond had fallen asleep. Almost after making love, he had snorted tiredly, and after telling you that he loved you, he had fallen asleep while looking at the ceiling with a satisfied smile. Normally, he would have hugged you, but you could feel that he was tired after the flight. But you didn't care. You just snuggled up against his bare chest. You were just as tired, but you sure couldn't sleep. After so many confessions, so many fears and insecurities, you had finally confessed a part of them to Aemond, but now that things seemed to be better, you were going to walk away from him to start college. He would visit you. He had promised you. But, something inside of you told you that that fantasy that Aemond had in his head of being together was not going to work. Now you wanted to be with him. You wanted to shout it out to the world, but how was the world going to react? Nobody would accept it. You knew that your mother would think you weren't well, that your grandmother Alicent would die of disgust, and your father you didn't know very well, how your father would react, if at all? You slipped onto the bed and grabbed your phone; leaned against the headboard and did something you'd never done before.

You searched for information on Daemon and Rhaenyra. They, like you, had suffered that passionate and secret love like the one you two also experienced. They were you. Exactly the same, or, if not, similar. You saw a couple of gossip magazine covers where they talked about the close relationship between the two. You saw the news starring both of them, together or separately, and you read about the scandal. Your skin stood on end when you saw how the press had branded them as monsters. They were monsters for the fact they loved each other.

You thought about putting the phone down while you kept reading and reading about them. However, you couldn't. Something inside you wanted to know more and more about it, but you froze when you read the news about Rhaenyra's death. That made you shed a tear. They were all talking about Daemon's manipulation of her. Nobody came out in defense of what only two monsters could feel. Another shudder, another strangled sob. Why should it be better for you and Aemond? There was no evidence for it. Heavy tears rolled down your cheeks. None of this was going to end well.

Daemon had had as much money as Aemond, and yet he had failed to protect the one he loved most. How was Aemond going to defend you? The press had been merciless with them, but you also knew that they would be relentless with you. Your heart was breaking at times. It was almost like seeing the consequences of the relationship you had. It was too hard a blow with reality. Maybe too much.

Your sobs woke Aemond, who just looked at you in confusion. Just when he saw what was on the screen of your phone, he hugged you and threw the device away. He just hugged you while rocking you in silence. He only broke it to say that you would not suffer the same fate. He was going to take care of everything. He would. You wanted to believe him, even though you knew that he himself had warned you a long time ago.

And as he held you silently and stroked and kissed your hair, a message came on your phone from Bryen. You would only see him the next morning, but he was informing you that he was at Sunspear and that he needed to see you before the course. That boy was still in love with you, although you had already forgotten him. Your entire world was Aemond.

[bananadrinkxxx]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐲𝐞 (1)

[Aemond Targaryen x female Lucerys Velaryon • fem! oc!reader]

[warnings: sex content, fights, harassment, angst, smut, domination, violence, targcest (uncle/niece)]

Only for 18+

[description: Boarding School - Modern Setting. Lucerya avoided her uncle for years but Aemond remembers and he is on his mission to make her life a living hell.]

Masterlist for all available parts (click here)

Aemond Targaryen was a fucking psychopath.

An absolute, without any restrictions, full-time psychopath. A psychopath without a good fibre in him. 

She couldn't believe her mother was doing this to her.

Didn't she feel any love for her only daughter? Not a little bit.

Hadn't it occurred to her for a second, just a second, that it might be dangerous to let her sixteen-year-old daughter with her eighteen-year-old uncle to boarding school in the middle of nowhere?

Normally maybe not a big problem, but if you consider that she had removed an eyelet from her uncle's eye socket in her youthful carelessness, the whole thing might not be so safe anymore.

"You are dramatic," her brother Jace had replied, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure he'll have forgotten it long time ago."

Sure, because you forget the loss of an eye just like that.

Did he think she was an idiot or was he the idiot?

She was dead. She was as good as dead.

Her body would be found in some container, in a sack, in a dustbin, or in a grave that Aemond Targaryen would dig especially for her and a headstone which said, "Here lies Lucerya Targaryen, that girl who once had two eyes", because she was quite sure that her uncle would remove her eyes before he would murder her.

"Maybe I should post an Instagram Story," Lucy mused aloud. "According to the motto, she warned us all and nobody believed her. Then my story of pain will be aired on Netflix and Mum could buy her own island with Uncle Daemon."  

"Or you could buy some tranquilizers," Jace suggested. 

"Aegon is the much bigger problem," Jace started. "Balea informed me that he is stupid and has to repeat the year and now I have the fabulous honor of being in the same class as not only with Aemond but him as well. Sister, that's a problem."  

Yeah of course, a murderous uncle who was after your life wasn't a real problem.

Lucy didn't really feel sorry. Jace was a boy and, if she was to believe his unqualified statements, he was popular. He had a lot of friends and Aegon wasn't known for being very brave.  

She, on the other hand, was new at this school, weak as fast because life made her an girl and she didn't know a living soul in this goddamn dump.

And like she said, Aemond Targaryen was a psychopath.

King's Landing. What idiot gave a school such a name?

“Do you really think he is still angry about it? It happened a long time ago,” Rhaena asked.

“Wouldn’t you still be angry about it?” Balea asked back and Rhaena made a face. Of course she would be angry. Every normal thinking person would be angry, and Lucy couldn't even blame him. It was an eye, after all.

She regretted what she had done it, but it happened and there was nothing she could have done to undo it.

Aemond Targaryen had lost an eye and it was her fault.

After their headmaster, Corlys Velaryon, who was also her paternal grandfather, made some boring speech to the whole school, dinner was served in the great hall.

The school was housed in an old castle and while Lucerya found the name of the school more than silly, she had to admit that she liked the accommodation.

She had been looking for Aemond, but it was only her uncle Aegon who had let his gaze wander over her body and winked at her.

Disgusted, she had turned around and after dinner she had been taken to her room with her cousins (and recently stepsisters too, she didn't want to talk about how that had happened).

The girls lived separately from the boys and at some point this boarding school reminded her of Hogwarts. There were common rooms, shared showers, shared rooms and she had to share her room with three other girls. This school probably didn't think much of privacy.

"I'm going to take a shower," Lucy informed her cousins and Helaena. Helaena was her aunt, a pure but weird soul.

Probably the only reason why she was happy to have to go to this school.

Baela and Rhaena played with their phones while Helaena looked up from her book and smiled at her.

"Beware the beasts beneath the boards."

OK, thank you.  

Lucy grabbed some new clothes, towels, shampoo and wearily made her way to the shared showers.

It was already a little after nine and bedtime was at half past nine, so she had to hurry.

She felt like she had to run half a marathon before she got to the showers.

The warm water was a real blessing on her skin and for a brief moment she forgot where she was.

She closed her eyes, relaxed and enjoyed the warm patter of the water on her body.

She turned off the water to soap up and sniffed her shower gel, which smelled of lemon cake.

"Oh my god, right there, oh fuck."

Lucy stopped in shock.

That was a joke.  

That had to be a fucking joke.

"Harder," the girl's voice said while making sounds Lucy only knew from some porn videos.

Not that she's ever seen any. She was a good girl.  

There were only two options for Lucy now.

Either she continued to shower and pretend nothing happened, or she would walk out of her shower and tell these two depraved souls that this was no place for their sins.  

Or she would stick to the third option, pretending not to exist and waiting for the two strangers to piss off after having the enlightenment that this place was hardly a suitable place for their physical needs.

"You're so tight," a male voice moaned and Lucy's brow furrowed. She knew that voice from somewhere.

While the girl was screaming so loud that Lucy was pretty sure half the school had found out about therr sexual act in the WOMEN'S SHOWER, Lucy stood in her shower cubicle with shampoo in her hair and freezing, wishing that she could disappear from this world.

After what felt like an hour of waiting for the two to finally finish, her wish finally came true and the girl climaxed with loud moans.

She heard a few more skin slaps until the boy finally came too. At least he had stamina, she had to give him that.

"No one has ever satisfied me like that," the girl informed him, giggling. Oh my god.

She heard it rustling and after the noise of few kisses, the door was opened and silence fell in the room.

Lucy let out a relieved breath.

The whole time she had tried to breathe as quietly as possible, which wasn't easy at all.

No one would believe her, not even she herself believed what had just happened to her.

Dissolved, she turned around and was about to turn the water back on when suddenly her shower stall was ripped open.

Screaming, she turned around and stared stunned into the face of Aemond Targaryen, who let his eye travel over her naked body.

His silvery blonde hair was loose and he was wearing a black shirt and black sweatpants.

It wasn't fair that he was wearing so much and she was wearing so little. Which meant literally nothing.

"Lucerya," Aemond breathed softly.

Lucy tried to cover her body with her hands as best she could.

"Hello Aemond, what's up?," what the fuck, "I was just showering right, so could you-"

"Were you listening?" He wasn't serious, right?  

"No? I took a shower and-"

wtf, was that him?  

She had just listened to her uncle having sex?

"I got here first. You came and-"

"Hmm, I really came," Aemond interrupted, and she wanted to kill herself. Just kill herself. Well, maybe her uncle would do that for her.  

"Long time no see," Aemond said, letting his gaze travel over her body again.

"The last time I saw you you were six years old playing with kitchen knives."

"Ah, right, good of you to bring up the subject," Lucy interjected.

Change the topic, change it. She wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

He raised a eyebrow.

 "I wanted to apologize for this unfortunate accident."

Aemond frowned and raised both eyebrows. An eye patch covered his shattered eye and a scar ran across the left side of his face.

Kind of sexy. If he wouldn't be her uncle and if it wouldn't have been her who caused his injury.

A smile developed on his lips before he walked towards her. Needless to say, it was not a very trustworthy smile. It was that serial killer smile before they took their victims apart.

She totally felt safe here.

Startled, Lucy took a few steps back and was pinned against the cold shower wall by Aemond.

He pressed his body against hers and grabbed her chin with his hand. He gently pressed her cheeks together, making her mouth part slightly.  

"Unfortunate accident?" he repeated her words.

When he said it like that, it sounded totally stupid.  

"You broke Jace's nose and you didn't stop," Lucy justified herself. Her wet brown hair hung in curls over her face. "I had to do something. You said you will kill him."

"You mean you took my eye for giving your brother some good deserving slaps?"

He was ironic. That never boded well for psychopaths. 

"Look, I guess we see things a little differently but I'm sorry, okay?"

Aemond stared at her for a moment before starting to laugh.

"You're sorry? You took my eye and after more than ten years the only thing you say to me is that you're fucking sorry?"  

"Okay, wait, yes, it-" Aemond squeezed her cheeks tighter.

"You're not sorry, niece. You liked the feeling of superiority, and do you want me to confess something?"

D rather not.  

The fingers of his other hand slid over her face, down her neck, down her arm, the base of her breasts.

His hand was just everywhere and nowhere. 

"I like it too. I could do anything to you now, sweet little niece and you wouldn't be able to fight back. I could do whatever I want and there's nothing you could do about it. You would be completely at my mercy."  

Lucy's heart was pounding violently against her chest.

A tingling developed between her legs. What the hell?

She was sick. She couldn't believe his words aroused her. Not Aemond was the psychopath (ok, he still was) but her.

"How lucky for you that all I want is your pretty eye, niece," he whispered and his hot breath hit her lips.

With these words he released her and turned around.  

He left her naked, wet and aroused.  

Lucy was lost.

Lucy had no idea how to process last night's experience with Aemond.

He had left her in the shower in complete disarray and hadn't even looked at her this morning.

He had played with her and she had let herself be played with.

And as expected, he wanted her eye.

She would call her mother and make it clear to her that if she didn't rescue her from this hell, she would soon have no daughter.

"Next Monday we have our first school trip. As we want to welcome the new students to our school, the students who have been to this school for years will show the new students around," Mrs. Velaryon, the headmaster's wife and Lucy's grandmother looked down the rows.

She had brought several generations together.

"The new students, after I call their names, please step forward and pull a name from this bowl," she pointed to a glass bowl with white slips of paper, "and read their partner's name loud and clear. Each student has then been assigned a student who'll take care of them for the next few weeks."

What a cute idea.  

Lucy wanted to throw up. She turned to Jacaerys, who winked at her. He knew his grandmother would do that shit.

If she was lucky, she would get her brother or cousins.

When her name was called, Lucy walked forward and gave her grandmother a wry smile.

She reached into the bowl and prayed to the gods that she would pull anyone but the one whose touch could still be felt on her skin.

Lucy opened the note and wanted to kill herself.

Surprising how many times she wanted to kill herself that week.

That had to be a joke. It could only be a joke.  

She stared at the note in disbelief.  

"Who did you get, Lucerya?" her grandmother asked.

Lucy looked up in shock at Aemond Targaryen, who gave her a satisfied smile. Apparently he was already imagining a hundred types of torture in which he could torment her undisturbed. 

Killing seemed the only option now.

Self-harm was no solution but sometimes when it was about Aemond Targaryen and his lost eye, maybe it was.

[bohemian-nights]

Do you think they'll make Nettles an estranged sister of Addam and Alyn? Since she was also supposedly a Velaryon bastard and the show runners took away Addam and Alyn's Velaryon hair?

I’ve heard they’ll make her a bastard of Corlys(which I don’t agree with*), but I doubt they’ll make her a full-blooded sister of the hull boys.

It’s more than just hair color, her being Valyrian/non-Valyrian, and then all sharing the same race now. It’s the fact that Nettles literally comes from the gutter. She’s homeless. She has no family. She has no one and nothing to her name but her own wit.

Addam and Alyn may be bastards, and Addam may not look Valyrian in the show, but even before the Dance they did have each other, their mother, and their grandfather (before he died).

They had a home. They had blood ties. Corlys claimed them because he knew they were his blood. They had people who loved them and cared for them. Nettles never had that.

It’s why she’s able to be isolated so easily and accused of being a witch who had to use witchcraft to claim Sheepstealer. She had no one in her corner save Daemon who chooses to protect her and serves as a threat to those who would do her wrong.

If the writers want to take that away from her characterization on-top of everything else to make her some estranged sister of those boys then they have no real understanding of her character whatsoever.

It’s incredibly insulting to take away everything that she is, everything that she stands for, and strip down her character to this just because they are all Black now.

*If she has to be a bastard of anyone it should be Vaemond’s bastard that he never acknowledged as his own. While it’s not ideal that her heritage isn’t left at least ambiguous, it’s extremely poetic that Daemon ends up falling in love with and saving the daughter of the man who he beheaded, but the showrunners of HOTD wouldn’t know a good thing if it hit them in the face.

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

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

how did you perceive that as?

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

So did aegon keep the other dolls?

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

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

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

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

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

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

[theforgottenmcrmy]

live reactions to house of the dragon season 2, episode 7

as always, this is just for fun🖤

spoilers below the cut

Has EVERY episode’s intro been slightly different this season, or am I losing it?👀

Getting right into it.

I’m going with others on this one in saying Rhaenyra initially might have believed Laenor had returned🥲

Syrax and Seasmoke reunion is probably not what they would have imagined either…

Addam: “you gotta believe me, this dragon chose ME😅😅😅”

Alicent talking about women being cast aside or hated as though she did not facilitate BOTH of those things being done to Rhaenyra many times over🫥

So it was Seasmoke Rhaena tried to claim previously, and it “nearly devoured her”…. And yet they expected better results with someone who had even less Targaryen (AND Velaryon) blood than Rhaena?😅

“What if the rider? Do we know who he is?” YOU should know him, Corlys😂

I love you Rhaenyra but Syrax isn’t give Aemond and Vhaegar any second thoughts😅😅😅

“A common shipwright vows to serve you, while your brother seeks to destroy you.” Nothing but facts here 🫡

“Let us raise an army of bastards.” POETIC JUSTICE, IM HERE FOR IT 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

“Well done” is all Corlys has to say. Not sure why part of me expected more.

I love how Oscar Tully isn’t scared of Daemon. Tell him like it is, my lord.

The fish scale looking armor is so cool.

Ser Simon’s looking nervous as hell😅😂

“The King in the Riverlands!” “The King in the-“ oh wait, wrong show😅

Wait, what’s going on👀👀👀

Wowwwww, Daemon’s really just gonna stand by while this goes down?!?

Oh wait, it’s even WORSE, WTF——-

See, I’ve let most of the changes slide without comment, but now this is a change that I HAVE to comment on. How are we supposed to believe that House Blackwood won’t be bitter with Daemon now after what happened to Willem?! And they were one of Rhaenyra’s most steadfast supporters in Fire and Blood, no?!?!

Aegon’s looking 20+ older😅

I wish I could feel more sympathetic for Aegon. But I remember what he did in season 1, and I’m not willing to overlook it.

Alicent gave up on parenting her Aegon, so Larys is stepping up😇

“I am of salt and sea.” Isn’t that almost verbatim what Baela told Corlys the heir to Driftmark needed to be?👀

Noooooo, please don’t send the children to Pentos😭

Rhaena “time to shoot my shot” Targaryen. Just like her mother with Vhaegar.

“Mongrels.” *”really?!* look from Rhaenyra😂

“Did you think I would have dark hair?” WE CANNOT HAVE THIS CONVO RIGHT NOW, please. My heart cannot take this….

I stg if this is there last serious convo before the Gullet…

Jace begging Rhaenyra not to pursue the lowborn dragonriders in order to protect his own claim in the future… echoes to young Rhaenyra arguing with Viserys about being replaced with Alicent’s children💔

Also, Jace foreshadowing almost verbatim as to what will happen with the two Betrayers…

I’ve decided Ulf isn’t a Targaryen bastard at all, just a drunk who crafted a clever lie to keep him drinking for free.

Now Hugh, on the other hand- I’m more inclined to believe his story. Regardless of what happens.

Really? The dragon keepers abandoning Rhaenyra in her hour of need? It’s a good thing they didn’t exist in the book, because something tells me if they did, they wouldn’t have done that🤷🏼‍♀️

Rhaenyra’s outfit though👌🏻

As happy as I am to see Baela present and offering her support, Jace’s absence is even more apparent🥲

Also, and this is extremely random, I love how whenever we have Dragonstone scenes, we can always hear dragons in the background. Makes the emptiness in GOT scenes in Dragonstone heavier.

Loveeee that some of these “Targaryen bastards” have dark hair. Lends weight to Targaryen white/silver hair need not always be dominant as proof of parentage.

I wanna know how they summoned Vermithir TO the cave… or are there like different caves/“nests” for each dragon?👀 because if that’s true, that’s cool as hell and also extremely practical

RHAENYRA, THE DRAGON WHISPERER/QUEEN🖤

They really all dipped as soon as possible😅

Did Ulf just get swept away, or-

The amount of foreshadowing with Rhaenyra this season is actually insane

Oooo, calling it now, Ulf is gonna go wandering out, and find Silverwing along the way.

Damn, Vermithor really out here just having a snack until he finds who he’s looking for👀

Hugh being claimed by trying to save someone else’s life says something… still wandering what on earth goes wrong

Aw, Vermithor looks kinda happy. Do you think he’s been lonely all these years without the Old King?🥲

Silverwing really just casually nudging Ulf away from her eggs like😂😂😅

Then immediately going, “we gonna go for a flight now, or?!”

Imagine being a peasant in King’s Landing, being on the brink/in the middle of war, knowing almost all Targaryens (that you’re aware of) have dragons of their own, and all the sudden seeing the dragon of Good Queen Alysanne with a new rider, just flying about King’s Landing…

That ending shot though!!!!!🖤🖤🖤🔥🔥🔥

King’s Landing, a certain queen is coming for you🤭🖤

DREAMFYRE?!?! FINALLY?!

I will not survive next week if the Gullet is now moved to season 3. Please💔💔💔

[horizon-verizon]

Fire and Blood: Aegon II

[revised, from the older 2022 version]

This is a Headcanon and are subject to change (except the part about him being a rapist). You are welcome to disagree with them.

Before the Dance

Aegon was born to Viserys I (29-30) and Alicent Hightower (18-19) a year after they married. Despite being a boy and Alicent's/Otto’s pressing, he did not replace Rhaenyra as Viserys’ official heir and Viserys even dismissed Otto for "hectoring" him [definition: talk to (someone) in a bullying way.; browbeat; intimidate]:

And unlike Rhaenyra (ten years his senior), aka “The Realm’s Delight”, he never had the blatant or apparent admiration of the courtiers, peasants, etc. Rhaenyra also was definitely Viserys' favorite child (Aegon may or may not have known this, but I think it's primarily bc she came from was the first and only child he ever had during a slew of lost children with Aemma, so Rhaenyra could have been a sort of "miracle" child) and all their lives, they heard and saw Viserys protect Rhaenyra's rights over what they saw as theirs, esp Aegon's.

Early on, he and his brothers developed resentment, then hatred, for Rhaenyra and her first three sons: Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey Velaryon.

The enmity between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra was passed on to their sons, and the queen’s three boys, the Princes Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron, grew to be bitter rivals of their Velaryon nephews, resentful of them for having stolen what they regarded as their birthright: the Iron Throne itself. Though all six boys attended the same feasts, balls, and revels, and sometimes trained together in the yard under the same master-at-arms and studied under the same maesters, this enforced closeness only served to feed their mutual mislike, rather than binding them together as brothers. (F & B; “A Question of Succession”)

Image Credit: doug wheatley from Fire and Blood

Imagining how Aegon’s Childhood/Development (God, why....)

In a feudal society, individualism (or the way we conceptualize it) as a priority is not a substantial concept shared amongst the different populaces like it is for some societies today. You may come from a noble house with a distinctive history, image and notable deeds that shaped the customs of the land ruled. Or you are the ruled--the peasant that are told to work for the nobles. Of course, it’s way more complicated when put into action and in real life, with rich merchants, illegitimate children, etc. having sometimes influence enough to present an economic and political opposer and negotiations done. But generally, a feudal society is shaped by what role you play in maintaining the hereditary cultural order above most else, with the militant lords owning multiple tracts of k[land the serfs and peasants worked on their entire lives.

Here this kid is learning from a young age that men customarily inherit the final and nearly absolute authority and power over the House and the household, much less an entire country and its inhabitants. He knows about male-preference primogeniture. Sees that aristocratic and royal children learned about their own house’s history--that it is tradition or a precedent for sons to inherit power, and traditions usually define the identity of a house and its members as well as the relations to each other (Brackens vs Blackwoods; “Winter is Coming”).

But aside from a girl being chosen over him, he also learns that his father, Viserys, was able to ascend despite being the son of a second son because the lords were allowed to vote for him based on the principle that a man and those of the male line are the “best” and preferred leaders. Troubling the precedents of both undemocratic succession and male primogeniture. If he even thought about this deeply at all, we don't know.

If we’re going by firstborn male only-primogeniture, Viserys would be undisputed as heir. If by equal primogeniture, it should have been Rhaenys Targaryen who ruled, and then Laena Velayron after her. Viserys’s whole line, in another world, would have been mere secondary princes/princesses, then lords/ladies.

Yet, he was not chosen by the former king, but chosen by his own future subjects. Yeah there were EU elective monarchies, but that this is not a society where you did that to have a new monarch and it reduces the power of a monarch. Neither Jaehaerys nor any Westerosi monarch--Targ or not--wanted that.

So: But isn’t a king supposed to be made by the last king? Even with Jaehaerys' choosing and allowing the lords to choose, they still were those he decided to be the "final" deciders of who would lead them. There is this contradiction or paradox of monarchial leadership and succession: what the king desires then rules and what his subjects want from him and in a king. Even with Jaehaerys' choosing and allowing the lords to choose, they still were those he decided to be the "final" deciders of who would lead them. As if this were some sort of Spartan oligarchy. there is this contradiction or paradox of monarchial leadership and succession: what the king desires then rules and what his subjects want from him and in a king. 

Once again, the bit abt the GC of 101 is all more IF he actually spends time thinking this deep abt Viserys' ascension outside of how it should have made him also Viserys' heir and how it instead made Rhaenyra Viserys's seemingly biggest pride & joy. If he does or has at all thought about this, he's repressed its implications for him if he were to ever rule: that his own claim is vulnerable to circumstance of others’ various and changing desires, that he is vulnerable to others.

He also would have heard the courtiers, Alicent, her ladies-in-waiting, his wet nurse and other nurses, her brother Gwayne and father Otto, and even other servants talk about Rhaenyra, Viserys, the TArgs' state, etc. in whispers or aloud as he went his way around the Red Keep, constantly talking about the succession. Some would say how Rhaenyra is so cool, so beautiful, so precocious (not Alicent or Otto). Others that she doesn’t deserve the crown for her gender or her character, being so hostile to Alicent (his mother).  

Whatever the truth of these allegations, there was never any doubt that King Viserys still meant for his daughter to follow him upon the Iron Throne, and her sons to follow her in turn. By royal decree, each of the Velaryon boys was presented with a dragon’s egg whilst in the cradle. Those who doubted the paternity of Rhaenyra’s sons whispered that the eggs would never hatch, but the birth in turn of three young dragons gave the lie to their words. The hatchlings were named Vermax, Arrax, and Tyraxes. And Septon Eustace tells us that His Grace sat Jace upon his knee atop the Iron Throne as he was holding court, and was heard to say, “One day this will be your seat, lad.” (Fire and Blood; “A Question of Succession”)

Alicent and Otto could have felt that to convince Viserys to change his mind, Aegon will have to be presented as the better option or the "perfect" prince while play at Viserys’ heartstrings or desire for family and harmony. And they'd likely be doing this from babyhood until his more resistant teen years. So they may dress him from the moment he can be in group gatherings to create images suited to the persons they anticipate will see him at particular setting. Parties? Dress him up in intricate colors reminiscent of a king. Alone with the king at breakfast? Dress him up in subdued colors and simple stitching, maybe even have him just wear white to connote innocence and make him that much more attractive to engage with. Let everyone else also see how “bright” and “comely” Aegon seems. (Of course, he never manages to get a moniker like Rhaenyra celebrating his personality, so that would have quickly failed.) Not only with dress him, but instruct his behavior from as early as when he only begins to understand to obey so he may receive positive attention.

You can go into abuse territory like what was hinted at the episode 7 when Otto dragged him & Alicent slapped his face because Aegon, seeing how nothing he does or they do convinces Viserys will get him to change his mind, will just give up and "enjoy" the things that being a prince does entitle on: brothels, drink, food, and in his case, a beautiful dragon that he could rationalize also exudes, in its beauty, what he feels could be or otherwise already in him. It all also speaks to his sense of masculinity, and the SA and rapes he commits could be how he takes back control from his father and Rhaenyra though he may not always consciously think of them. Again, different directions. The more he doesn't allow Alicent or Otto to prince him up, the more profligate and uncaring he will be, and the more abuse they can both try to enforce onto him. He could have felt he was playing a game he never asked for, become a sort of trapped puppet, which in turn will feed into his feeling of victimhood and rage when Rhaenyra doesn't submit to his ascension (as us bk readers know).

Effect

So in all, Aegon, being a child and not being around his father 24/7 (partially also since kings aren’t like other noblemen and peasants, having separate apartments and doing several duties apart form their children), Aegon likely didn’t feel that Viserys truly saw him as worthy to inherit the crown as Rhaenyra, . So Aegon may have felt that his father thought him “worse” than a girl (which is sexist thinking). In spite of the importance that a lot of people around him place on custom, tradition, and precedent. Being a king--or being seen as deserving of it and conflating that with a father's love--speaks to his gender identity as a a trueborn firstborn man in this society because Alicent and Otto both would have impressed on him that it was so both indirectly and verbally. And everything in this world is valued through its given gendered properties: male (active; hard; fast; strong) vs female (passive; soft; slow; weak). Which brings us right back to how he self affirms/distracts himself: his dragon Sunfyre, alcohol, and sex/sexual assault.  

Sexual assaulters and rapists are losers. They rape and SA because it makes them feel more powerful than those they feel should not have power yet they see sometimes do or think they do. Often, when they can’t confront the real contender, they go after those that they can hurt with less consequences to themselves.

So, it’s easy to see that Aegon develops an "interesting" (not a positive connotation) inferiority complex. Everything that he is, it would be compared to Rhaenyra as well as all the other kings that have existed. Even by his mother and Otto. He is not the center of his world, Rhaenyra is.

In other words, he also still enables his own loser-dom.

Ironically, his dependency on only what pleasures his body can give him would not have likely endeared him to others around him (even his own siblings), because he is so emotionally stunted, resentful, and impatient--even with the statues he had commissioned later after his brothers’ deaths.  But I don’t think he was especially close to Aemond, Helaena, or Daeron because of the dissociation and because he himself is a way for Alicent to protect the others, creating another heavy obligation--which is one feature of ASoIaF. His family would have been together more for duty than love.

Duty vs Love

The statues were meant to "pay back" his dead brothers, reduce some of that guilt, and show his subjects how generous to those loyal to him will be treated & paint himself as a good king. It's a claim on the land, that he and his family can do what they want with it, because he is king.

Being made to feel like a device of duty and ambition perhaps wouldn’t encourage his already compromised ego into intimacy, creating an emotional void. Alcoholics are not commonly free with their affection either, especially when they are men. His siblings also might have looked at him as their future, or as an assignment. A duty. Someone to support for the kingship more than a friend. And the emotional voids each of them have would accentuate and affirm this.

The Dance

And what about his coronation? Runicter, Septon Eustace and Mushroom all refer to Aegon being away from the keep when Viserys died and Alicent brought the council members together in the green council. Two of these sources say that he was having sex--Mushroom with a more scandalous claim than Eustace, but actually correct as Eustace. confirms the garlic the girl (12-13) and tries to make it sound better by saying she was a merchant's daughter. (Class rather than the fact that he, a grown man, is fucking a preteen without it "even" being a forced arranged marriage, which just makes it so much the worse!)

Aegon even protested being crowned at first, one of them being that he shouldn’t “steal” from his older sibling--if we were to believe Eustace when he says that he eventually gives in when Criston Cole mentioned how Rhaenyra would not spare him or his family if she wanted her own illegitimate sons to sit safely on the throne.

However, Aegon did a quick switch up after he got his crown, and I think this just shows that he always wanted it (or the validation, really, from it) and didn't actually need much persuading bc it was his time to shine and show how great he could be to his dead father and all those who witnessed his profligacy. Prove how how great he is by showing how well he could protect his family by defeating his enemies.

One could say he accepted becoming king out of fear of Rhaenyra, esp after Alicent & Criston both told him what they did AND they never got along or spent time together. He likely has no idea or real knowledge of this older sister who lives apart from the rest of them for almost his entire life and only comes by for parties or the odd viist to their father, sitting on the table and rarely speaking ot each other. Like a distant aunt rather than a missed sibling. To this argument, Aegon might have felt he had to become king so as to be the King/the military commander before she can become Queen notably so she can't take him off guard and seek to kill or punish him and when Alicent has already the council and imprisoned the courtiers. But what drives me to think Aegon actually welcomed the crown even when he refused at first is because he still had the chance to keep refusing and lock his mother, Otto, & Criston in a protracted stalemate. They'd have to knock him out to really get him to appear before an entire crowd to be crowned, you can't crown a kicking-and-screaming or unconscious person, like they probably did for Daemon to marry Rhea Royce. So, I think he likely bent bc, again, hit was the final temptation, the opportunity to make himself worthy.

Thus Aegon II would have likely felt a strange euphoria after being crowned and “officially” becoming King. The final thing that stands in his way from completely consolidating power, validating himself, fully realizing his role, and affirming his manhood...is his more popular sister. again, they never got along or spent time together, so in this state of him feeling himself he’d be eager to get rid of her and his nephews through violence and dragons. 

Yes, it’s kinslaying, but:

he likely doesn’t feel her to be real kin and he is a character who depends on his sensual experiences as well as those things that symbolize power for self worth--Rhaenyra’s emotional and physical distance is too constant for him to see her as a true sibling

Rhaenyra is openly against Alicent, his mother

Rhaenyra is both a woman and the person keeping him from getting what he’s been owed for all his life

he marries his other sister, Helaena, and wives are not really the type of equal that we modern folks and non Targs would consider our spouse to be--royal siblings are not just siblings -> they are his subjects and if they are women they are also his sexual partner -> he has learned to see more as devices to show power or that which is mostly under his authority---Targaryens do not usually regard their siblings as just siblings. Quite literally, a sibling could be or become everything and anything: lover, enemy, peer/friend, child/dependent, superior, subject, etc. Depends on circumstances. How adaptable 👀.

So with every pushback like how Rhaenyra’s supporters coming out the woodwork, her supporter’s military wins...it’s no wonder he was ecstatic at Lucerys’ death at the hands of Aemond and the claws of Vhagar. Targaryen might seems on his side.

Aemond Targaryen...who would henceforth be known as Aemond the Kinslayer to his foes...returned to King’s Landing, having won the support of Storm’s End for his brother Aegon, and the undying enmity of Queen Rhaenyra. If he thought to receive a hero’s welcome, he was disappointed. Queen Alicent went pale when she heard what he had done, crying, “Mother have mercy on us all.” Nor was Ser Otto pleased. “You only lost one eye,” he is reported to have said. “How could you be so blind?” The king himself did not share their concerns, however. Aegon II welcomed Prince Aemond home with a great feast, hailed him as “the true blood of the dragon,” and announced that he had made “a good beginning.” (F&B; “A Son for a Son”)

Perhaps this is one of the only moments that he actually felt close or obtained intimacy with Aemond. Or feels like he has. Aemond helped him out, so he's praising Aemond for being what Daemon is to Rhaenyra. An enforcer of his own will. Aemond proved himself to be an agent that will “prove” him and his strength and kingly authority. Aegon sees Aemond apart from being this guy who’s better than him in the physical stuff, like a warrior. And with Aemond and seemingly the entire kingdom at his side, Aegon felt he could take on anything.

It's when Dameon takes Harrenhal with barely a scratch and when more people declare for Rhaenyra against him, with the green's total surprise, that this arrogant euphoria starts to diminish and morph into something like the doubt and helplessness he's felt before being crowned. So when he’s butting heads against Otto for what he thinks is inaction, he is showing frustration at Rhaenyra display a seeming competency or luck over him that he can't handle or help to compare to before Viserys died:

AND

"The Red Dragon and the Gold"

With Criston’s encouragement to show his strength and his son Jaehaerys’ murder, it gets to a point where he flagrantly dismisses Otto’s bids at less violent attempts to cow Rhaenyra, and it definitely leads into his decision to put himself in danger and fight with Aemond against Rhaenys and Meleys.

That was the first time he ever used Sunfyre for battle and it came with grevious self harm and harm to his dragon: he got many burns, broke bones and Sunfyre’s wing was incapacitated enough that he had to be left behind for a time in the field to be fed and recover, while Aegon also stayed in bed for the rest of that year. He had to be carried around in a litter when he wasn’t sleeping.

And later, when he finally escapes King’s Landing and reunites with Sunfyre at Dragonstone to recover, he must have generated enough sick anticipation and rage to kill Rhaenyra through his dragon in front of his legitimate nephew’s face. Before then, he had flown Sunfyre again only to be attacked by Baela and her dragon Moondancer. In that altercation, he got even more injuries, shattering both of his legs. 

Both were mistakes that began as him, again, trying to prove himself AS WELL AS revenge after years of being pushed into a more “feminine” passive position. The Rook's Rest fight was also him trying to make Jaehaerys' death mean something, a new motivator of that long, deep desire for affirmation, even though he probably loved his kids...in his way.

Broken and burned both those times, but specifically talking about the first for now--now he’s in an even worse passive position than he had ever been in, where he has to stay put and still be carried in a chair. Now that his body is actually broken, he feels a "crippledom" & uselessness worse than before. Worse and similar to how he’s been told to depend on those he felt in his way and worse/similar to when he was just a prince. When his life meant being a comparison to Rhaenyra.

In his second time getting burnt and broken by Baela & Moondancer, he attempts to mimic his coronation flight on Sunfyre but that affirmation is also denied to him. He is not allowed to land on Dragonstone as its master, or as a dragon (since he'd been hiding and recuperating in the caves on the island...dragons "live" in caves naturally) but a sort of mangled alien.

In all this time, he has, maybe in his eyes, been “disproven” and flouted as the rightful Targaryen heir. But like Rhaenyra with her position as heir for many years and others denying her, he is not going to just give up after having been king and been crowned for some time. Not after gotten the injuries that would have stayed with him for all his life if he had been allowed to continue. He probably felt that he had to hold onto his claim more and give meaning to his losses, despite also feeling like a cripple. Maybe he felt that his father’s dismissal of him came from a real place and he wanted to banish that feeling through cruelty. 

After Rhaenyra’s Death

Image Credit: doug wheatley from Fire and Blood

I believe that by this time, Aegon was so desperate to hold onto the power he had finally “assured” through Rhaenyra’s death. But as proven later, people still fought against him.

He refused to grant clemency to those who had supported Rhaenyra (as Jaehaerys I did w/Maegor's followers) and to even cut off pieces of his nephews to intimidate those still fighting. He wanted all these people, those who will not accept him, dead and when some actually appeared to be close enough to threaten him, he took Alicent’s suggestion to mutilate Aegon III/the Tounger. That, his open distrust of Corlys, AND the plan to later kill Corlys when he's no longer of use to them--divulged by Larys Strong-prompt Corlys and Larys to put their plan to assassinate him in action (“The Short, Sad Reign of Aegon II”):

“Your Grace,” the Sea Snake said, when the rump of the once proud green council had assembled, “you must surrender. The city cannot endure another sack. Save your people and save yourself. If you abdicate in favor of Prince Aegon, he will allow you to take the black and live out your life with honor on the Wall.”

“Will he?” King Aegon said. Munkun tells us he sounded hopeful. His mother entertained no such hope.

“You fed his mother to your dragon,” she reminded her son. “The boy saw it all.”

The king turned to her desperately. “What would you have me do?” 

“You have hostages,” the Queen Dowager replied. “Cut off one of the boy’s ears and send it to Lord Tully. Warn them he will lose another part for every mile they advance.”

“Yes,” Aegon II said. “Good. It shall be done.” He summoned Ser Alfred Broome, who had served him so well on Dragonstone. “Go and see to it, ser.” As the knight took his leave, the king turned to Corlys Velaryon. “Tell your bastard to fight bravely, my lord. If he fails me, if any of these Braavosi pass the Gullet, your precious Lady Baela shall lose some parts as well.”

Yeah, he’s a charmer, this one.

Lastly.

None of this is to say that he deserves the throne and it should be given to him or Rhaenyra should just give it to him (fuck that!), that he is a good person, or that he deserves to be allowed to do what he wants--it is to say that he is a perfect example of feudal patriarchal purity and thus a terrible human being who chose to use women’s bodies as if they are toys. 

Going by the trailer alone AND by his given character behavior/traits in F&B, I think Aegon is one of the better adapted and acted characters of the show. Let's hope they will at least continue that with him.

[velcryons]

Connections to House Velaryon: The Shipwrights of Hull

Jonah of Hull A shrewd, intelligent man with the sea in his veins, Jonah was born to fisherman in the village of Hull, just below the castle of Driftmark. In his youth, he fancied himself a sailor and served as second mate aboard none other than the Sea Snake. After losing his leg on one of her Nine Voyages, Jonah retired from sailing ships to building them. While he remained friends with Corlys Velaryon, a rift was driven between them for some unknown reason, and for the last decade of his life, Jonah refused to speak with his liege lord. Alayne of Hull The wife of Jonah and mother of Jordyn and Marilda. A seamstress of small renown, Alayne filled her days with making dresses for the nobility and wealthy of Driftmark for years until her husband Jonah returned from one of his travels with a missing leg. Turning her attention from designing dresses to designing ships, Alayne is said to be mostly responsible for the family's shipyard doing as well as it did. The pair lived comfortably and happily with their children until Alayne's unfortunate death of consumption shortly after the birth of her first grandson, Addam. Her second grandson, Alyn, was named in her honor. Jordyn of Hull Son of Jonah and Alayne and brother to Marilda of Hull. A quick witted and ambitious sailor, it is said that Jordyn was the real reason Laenor Velaryon had frequented the shipyards of Hull. Determined to leave a legacy for himself and his family as something other than ship mongers, Jordyn made many journeys to Essos to try and earn a name for himself among the traders and merchants there. Despite this he never found much glory for himself, always finding some excuse to return to Hull for some reason or another. On his final voyage he contracted Night Fever, perishing just 2 hours out of port. Marilda of Hull Daughter of Jonah and Alayne, sister to Jordyn , and mother of Addam and Alyn Velaryon. Born with the same adventurous spirit as her father and brother, Marilda was always underfoot of her father's builders in the shipyards, learning to sail before she could walk. After the death of her last remaining family member, her father, she sold the shipyard and did what her brother could not. With her sons and her trading cog, Mouse, Marilda eventually gained enough money to have seven ships under her ownership as well as a thriving shipping company.

[red-shepherds]

okay everyone else has cleared out of the HOTD fandom so I can just start making my own headcanons and sticking to them. some of these are jokes. no I won't tell you which ones.

Rhaenyra and Alicent both have PMDD. to me. neither of them knows this isn't normal. Alicent is suffering through it calmly even when young but it takes Rhaenyra a LOT of time to get used to it. This is lowkey part of the reason she assents to be pregnant--nine months of no hell. This explains why she of all people had six kids.

Daemon has the vibes of someone who has so many food allergies and no willingness to make his life better. But he does have the will to complain. He is lactose and gluten intolerant but that's not his responsibility. You should know what not to feed him.

Viserys would have loved gunpla. RIP Viserys.

Jaecerys Velaryon is 100% homo/ace. He has never had a thought about a woman. He thinks he's just waiting for the right woman. He doesn't know, bless him.

Otto Hightower is serving erectile dysfunction realness.

Back to Alicent actually, if given ANY opportunity she would have made a fantastic horse girl. Unfortunately the path for her was child bride. I think if she had been sent to ward with Rhea Royce as like, a favor to Otto, she might have had far better of a life.

[backjustforberena]

Haha rephrase then, do you think had she met Addam and Alyn when they were young, when her own children were alive and children, Rhaenys would have been more or less accepting of them?

In TV Canon that is, in book canon I think it's implied she would have burned most of Driftmark for the betrayal of it.

Rhaenys is an interesting personality to try and figure out.

Okay, anon, you got me at a good moment because I'm a couple of gins down, settled in for the night and I really like getting inside Rhaenys's head, so let's give it a bash. With the caveat that this is all, obviously, speculation on my part and very, very, very changeable by each and every factor in this scenario.

Because the question is, what do you mean by "accepting them"? Do you mean accepting their existence, just in general, with the idea that she's not going to do something absolutely crazy or vengeful? Is this a scenario where she just has Corlys tell her, to her face, that these are his kids?

Rhaenys isn't a cruel character. She's not rash, she's not particularly vengeful. She's pragmatic to the point, sometimes, where it's like she's cut out her own heart in order to serve some greater good or greater peace or purpose or security. She's also incredibly merciful and logical. She won't see the transgression as something committed by those boys. She wouldn't see, I don't think, any fault or blame with the mother, either.

So, it's all on Corlys. He's the wildcard because it depends on what he's asking of her. What he wants her to do and what position he's putting her in. And when, as well. And how.

My gut is that if Corlys just confesses all, then she'll work through it. She won't force Corlys to punish the children or the mother - nothing like driving them out of their home or forbidding him to see the boys (though he can bloomin' well end the affair, I'll tell you that for nothing).

However, things drastically change if Corlys wants to give them anything more. If he wants to put them in the succession. If he wants to have them in High Tide, with their kids, then that becomes just a massive deal. Just, in society, that's shameful to her. I mean, goodness, he'd have to go to one of her family to get those kids naturalised. Proclaim it, to the world, that not only did he cheat on her, but the hers that she gave him are not worthy.

If they become a threat to her children and to their rights, then she's going to keep them at arm's length. I think that's sort of, a little bit, what we see in her treatment of the Velaryon boys in Episode 1x07: she's so aware of the danger that those boys represent, as much as she loves them, it's something that cannot be ignored and she will not allow her personal feelings to ever get in the way of a politically good move, especially surrounding the idea of succession. She has to protect herself and her children even if that ends up doing harm (not real, bloody harm, just things getting a bit ugly and little kids having feelings hurt - which is never nice).

Obviously, the idea of naturalising Alyn is different in Season 2 because Corlys desperately needs an heir, especially one suited for wartime.

I do want to clarify, I don't think any of this would happen. Corlys just isn't that guy, we know that. I don't see any world in which he'd do this, want this, or even suggest it (this being presenting his bastards to Rhaenys, or proposing to have them in High Tide). One thing that seems to be repeated and very present is the idea that he's ashamed by this. He won't talk about it. He doesn't like it, and he particularly doesn't like it in the context of it threatening the relationship with his wife. He's not waltzing around saying: look what I did!

What the state of the marriage was when the boys were conceived/born or whatever, we don't know, but with the characterisation we have... Corlys doesn't want any of this scenario, oddly enough (because, seriously, dude, two??). He seems to be deeply shamed by it and in deep denial. Corlys is also a big stickler for "the rules" and tradition and all of that, so his treatment of his illegitimate sons would be in line with whatever the order of the day was. Plus, Laenor and Laena are great and his in-laws have dragons... that man's not stupid (much).

It's funny, looking at the quote from Mushroom: "Princess Rhaenys, his wife, had the fiery temperament of many Targaryens, Mushroom says, and would not have taken kindly to her lord husband fathering bastards [...] Only after the death of Princess Rhaenys did Lord Corlys at last feel able to bring his bastards safely forward" - because it's all speculation. Whilst it's clear that F&B is different from HOTD, looking at this, we could say it STILL holds up.

Rhaenys does have a fiery personality. It may not be burning High Tide to the ground but she has a lot of emotion within her and the capacity for great displeasure and anger. She doesn't take kindly to Corlys's actions (low bar, Mushroom, no one would) - but she's not wrothful. She's heartbroken. And the idea of Corlys fearing her reaction is really intriguing in this version because he expects her to be exactly as Mushroom describes, almost. He expects her temper. So much that he strikes out with his own first, like something wounded, lashing out.

We turn from a Corlys scared his wife is going to burn his backside, to a Corlys concerned about just what it will do to her. What it will do to their marriage. And isn't it just so interesting that Mushroom focuses on the potential for a woman's anger than he does for a man's shame? The stereotype of a scorned woman. It's definitely an intriguing interpretation that we have, now.

I think, actually, looking at your question, we sort of have our answer. Rhaenys has known about Alyn and Addam. She probably has for years, including a time when her children were alive. This is not new information to her - only putting some of the information together is new to her (I can't really work out the specifics, as whether it's Alyn's name or his face or his role in Corlys's near-death or what - I think we can only gather that she's never interacted with Alyn before, in this context and at the age he is now, and she's never met his mother).

So is she accepting of them? Yes. Insofar as she acknowledges Corlys's actions and the fruit of them, and hasn't done anything cruel about it. Insofar as she's aware of everything but chooses to still love her husband, build a life with him, have faith and trust in him and she lets that pain and that wound simply scab over.

She accepts insofar as she's able to recognise it and face it when she has to, even as it does break her heart. If she had lived, would she be best mates with her husband's sons by another woman? No. That's ridiculous. But, I believe, from the small scene we have with Alyn, that a relationship could be formed that would be, at least attempted, forgiving. She could mitigate the pain, to serve that end goal.

As Rhaenys says: Alyn's past is no fault of his.

And as Eve says: "And that’s a classic example of her yet again putting aside her personal grief and her feelings. I think inside, she’s broken and devastated. But always doing the right thing."

Hope that covers it ;)

[a-secret-bolton-vampire]

CW: Misogyny

(This is not an essay. This is a manic-induced rant about the fandom.)

HotD time soon, which means the dudebros will be out and about shaking their firsts cursing Sara Hess (who apparently is to blame for everything bad and must be removed from the show at all costs cuz she rightfully did not understand why people defend Daemon's actions) for hating men or whatever manufactured outrage they'll cook up next...

So, let's talk about what the show is not about first. It is not a misandrist piece of media that says men evil women good. That's so blatantly false it's genuinely baffling to me how anyone can reach that conclusion. It is also not about how the Blacks are better than the Greens or that the writers have a bias (what writer doesn't have a bias? I know I do). Remember, the Blacks and Greens are not real. This is fiction.

Yes, we get emotionally attached to characters (as I have) but there is no slander or character assassination going on. Hell, these characters literally have zero characterization (and sometimes contradictory characterization) in Fire & Blood. The writers haven't gone on twitter to cancel Aegon because he said something controversial. Because they are characters and they serve a purpose in the story, whether good people or not.

Now, let's talk about the way the fandom doesn't get certain themes. There is this recurring motif that the men want war and the women want peace. Think about it for maybe two seconds. In this very patriarchal gendered world, men are expected to be tough, hold in their emotions, be warriors and fighters. While war is considered maybe not ideal, knights are revered and men still have a particular expectation in this society.

Naturally, the toxic masculinity of Westeros is going to make quite an impression on some of the male characters in the show; Aegon, Aemond, Criston, Daemon. Mix that with their numerous neuroses and you don't get the most peaceful, calm, and rational people in the world.

Even disregarding that, there is a more thematic reason why the show went this direction. It explores the way patriarchy is an inherently violent, self-destructive system. Rhaenyra and Alicent, despite being in positions of power, are restricted by what the men around them allow them to do. This in turn adds to the tragedy of them trying to desperately avoid war even though it is unavoidable. It's sad, it's frustrating, and it's showing the flaws of the system.

This leads into a discussion for Alicent and Rhaenyra. The fandom is completely normal and not insane about these two. There is a lot of criticism about the characters being too "perfect", and that they lack agency and thus are less compelling than their book counterparts. There is so much to unpack here so lets take them one at a time.

No, Alicent and Rhaenyra are not perfect. Both make a ton of mistakes, do awful things, all the while they try to be decent and honourable. Rhaenyra has lied and killed for her own gain. She spared Laenor, but still killed an innocent servant and caused a massive deal of grief for the Velaryons by making them believe their son was dead. Not saying she is the worst person ever, but that was a pretty big political mistake even if she needed Daemon to be her sword to wield.

Alicent too is imperfect. I have so much sympathy for her and Rhaenyra, which is good since they are the two people at the core of the story, and being sympathetic is a very good trait to have in a protagonist! For me the biggest highlight of all is the way she treats her children. She is abusive. They do not feel that unconditional love from her. Aegon especially had a raw deal, with the way she not only verbally and emotionally abuse him and put immense pressure on him to becoming king, but also the way she physically abuses him. He's probably got PTSD from a lifetime of parental abuse (a lot of what Alicent and Viserys do to their children is something I have personally experienced with my own parents). This isn't even mentioning Helaena or Aemond. All of her and Viserys's children are like this. It's a huge, huge flaw of hers.

Now, what about agency? Alicent and Rhaenyra lack agency and they can't be the bad bitches like Cersei before them. I'm just gonna say it: I am glad they aren't like Cersei.

This is a story that, at its core, is about patriarchy and misogyny. Anyone who says that is not present in the book is honestly delusional or stupid. Is it the only theme of this story? No! But is it a major theme? Yes! It can still be about this and something else too! But anyways, the complaining about "lack of agency" is so weird considering this. Did we not watch the same episode 9? I feel like I took crazy pills with everyone talking about the "inconsistency" of Alicent's character.

Genuinely, this is such a pervasive idea in the fandom and it drives me insane trying to figure out how they missed the fucking point of episode 9! Or to explain more calmly, that was an episode of Alicent trying to regain agency. When she is upset by the Green Council, it is not because she doesn't want to crown Aegon. The opposite actually. She is upset they plotted behind her back without her input, and so the race to find Aegon is the race to find who will ultimately influence the king. Alicent finds him first and Otto accepts defeat.

And yet in the end her actual influence is in question. Because Alicent is trying to work within the confines of a patriarchal system, which further restricts her actual agency. This is a Shakespearean tragedy, and Alicent's own decisions ultimately spell her doom (based on what we have been told of season 2, which I will get to later).

Here is the thing: in exploring a show about misogyny, you do not need the characters to be triumphant. The story of the Dance is not a story of triumph. It is a story of trauma, bad decision making, bloodlust, and loss. To think this is gonna be a story about how Alicent and Rhaenyra stick a middle finger to the patriarchy is a fundamental misunderstanding. Instead, this is a show about how patriarchy is not a stable or rational system of power structure. Having Alicent and Rhaenyra have to claw their way to have agency is the fucking point.

Also I might add that in the book neither character actually displays much agency. Rhaenyra sits around and cries while her son makes the big decisions, and Alicent just disappears from the story after Aegon is crowned. What "agency" is there to be had? I have a sneaking suspicion that chuds don't like Alicent or Rhaenyra not being misogynistic caricatures...

People say that women should be rich, complex characters all on their own and then want them being literal caricatures of what misogynists view women in power as. That is not complexity. Saying "mayhaps the whore will die in childbirth" is not complexity. That's just Alicent being an asshole. Rhaenyra's entire character going "this is my birthright and I will have my brother's head!" is not complexity. "Rhaenyra not leading is the point" is not complexity.

As much as I really don't like Fire & Blood, even I am aware that the book is bias due to the perspective of the maesters that wrote it in-universe (and yes the book is the book and the show is the show but I'm making a point). Women are often smeared in the histories, and even today men pay much closer attention to any real or perceived faults women have and hone in on that with intense scrutiny men don't usually have to worry about (especially women who go outside gender norms).

This bizarre call to make Alicent and Rhaenyra more unlikable because "muh complexity" is nonsensical because it's asking to fall into the same stereotypes about women the book does (uncaring power-seeking bitches who are incapable of friendship and have uncontrollable emotions).

On that note, Rhaenyra and Alicent's old friendship is the best change made book to show. There is an extra layer of tragedy to it all and makes the characters a lot more complex. But wait, isn't the war between Aegon and Rhaenyra? Why is this Hightower whore stealing the spotlight on my war crime king?

No no no. This is another misunderstanding. The war is between Rhaenyra and Aegon, yes. That is how everyone remembers it. Aegon is a character I actually quite adore for just how messy and utterly vile he is. I can't wait to see him in action. But there is no relationship between Aegon and Rhaenyra. Not in the show, and definitely not in the book either. The main rivalry has always been Rhaenyra and Alicent.

This is in Fire & Blood. Who created the Blacks and who created the Greens? Rhaenyra and Alicent. Who has an established relationship and history (as badly written as it is)? Rhaenyra and Alicent? What was the novella in which the Dance is first described called? The Princess and the Queen. The war may be between Queen Rhaenyra and King Aegon II, but the rivalry has always been focused on Rhaenyra and Alicent. This insistence to remove Alicent off the promotional posters and place Aegon is... kind of misogynistic? Like, Alicent is narratively more important to the story and people want to replace her with her son who, while important, is not as important?

And also, you can like Aegon and want to see him have a larger role. I know I do, even if he is a fucking bastard. You can dislike the show or what I said for any number of reasons. Some people who aren't raging misogynists have perfectly valid reasons to dislike it. I'm just explaining about the most vile part of the fandom that grinds my gears so badly it hurts.

Also, I'm not even going to go into the whole Team Black/Team Green thing. All I'll say about it is: I hope they all look sexy while doing war crimes <3