#with what westeros and the greens have done to him and his family:( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

queenvhagar · 6 months ago

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I believe Rhys Ifans’ statement “Both sides are genocidal war criminals… I think we should all enjoy seeing how they die[,]” would be wrong because the entire time the story HOTD is fundamentally about how one group, the greens, IE Alicent, Otto, and Aegon Hightower, seek to maintain the status quo of an oppressive power structure versus Rhaenyra, the blacks, whose very existence seeks to jeopardize that power structure (the patriarchal society of Westeros).

It is made explicitly clear that the chief architect of team green in the usurpation of Rhaenyra’s throne that the only reason that they cannot have Rhaenyra on the throne is explicitly because she is a woman. It’s a theme that is present throughout the entirety of HOTD’s season one as this conflict builds up.

For instance, the conversation between Alicent and Rhaenys at the end of season one where Alicent justifies why she is participating in the usurpation of Rhaenyra’s throne to Rhaenys by saying that it is not a woman’s place to rule the Seven kingdoms and instead it is a woman’s place to gently guide the hand of the men who do rule.

The story of HOTD, the civil war for the succession of the Iron Throne following the death of Viserys, the Dance of the Dragons, is fundamentally a conflict that is built on the foundation of misogyny and the writers are making that explicitly clear.

The weird false equivalency when ppl imply that both sides are equally genocidally crazy, that treads to reduce the nature of this conflict down to just simple good old fashioned greed which it really isn’t.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think Rhaenyra is perfect and of course I understand that over the course of the war, she’s going to do some pretty terrible things but it’s been made pretty clear that Rhaenyra’s done everything in her power to avoid this turning out into a war in the fist place.

I just don’t think by any stretch of the imagination regardless of what Rhaenyra does throughout this war, that you’re supposed to enjoy watching her die. I don’t think that’s how her character is written and I don’t think that’s what the narrative goal of her end is supposed to be. Her character is a character by all accounts some victim of the patriarchal society that she lives in. Even if she does go down the “mad queen route,” it will only be to explore how the patriarchal society has completely twisted her. How this war that was started because she dared to be queen of the seven kingdoms completely ruined her and ruined her family.

I would very much appreciate your thoughts on this and would like to learn more if this take of mine is confusing and blinded.

I think this take might be correct if you're solely going off of the show and its interpretation of Team Black as modern feminists attempting revolutionary societal change led by divinely ordained and pure Rhaenyra vs Team Green as conservative misogynists led by incompetent and unorganized abuser Aegon...

Fire and Blood is not this, though. Sexism and misogyny is one element of power and power imbalance in Westeros but it's not the only one, nor is it the only factor into why Rhaenyra's claim was disputed, despite what the showrunners are trying to portray on screen.

The reality is two ideologically different sides with fairly equal claims to the throne are trying to seize power, leading to a war that ruins the land and the family that started it. Team Green has Aegon, firstborn son of the last king, following Andal tradition going back thousands of years and most recently reinforced in the Council of 101 AC that made his own father king. Team Black has Rhaenyra, eldest daughter named by the previous king but not supported by precedent. Rhaenyra unfortunately also had some political scandals that went against her in having bastards, having Velaryons killed and mutilated, and marrying Daemon despite fear of him in power being the reason she was named heir in the first place. Any of these are valid reasons why some people might be against her coming into power. It's more than "she's a woman and I don't like women."

Rhaenyra did not press her claim to raise up the women of the realm, nor did she do it out of a desire to save the world. She wanted it because she wanted power that was promised to her. But the show can't let women simply want things for themselves. Rhaenyra has to be an advocate for peace and want the throne for some higher purpose instead of just wanting power for power's sake.

The Greens were motivated by power to push for Aegon's claim, and surely misogyny in the society helped to get Aegon on the throne, but they also put Aegon on the throne out of fear for the lives of all of Viserys' sons, who would have to be taken out of the picture to secure Rhaenyra's atypical claim lest war and rebellion potentially break out against her at any point in her reign, and Team Black had already shown willingness to resort to violence to help themselves (Rhea's death, Laenor's death, Vaemond's death, Velaryons' tongues getting cut out, Aemond's eye cut out without any punishment and instead Aemond threatened with torture over speaking the truth about Rhaenyra). It's not just "we hate the idea of a woman ruling, we hate women, and we're terrible, incompetent people."

Fire and Blood is a tale of two sides fighting for even more power than they already have who are willing to do horrible terrible war crimes against each other and innocents in order to obtain their end goal of the Iron Throne, and realistically you are interested in seeing all of them die and face the consequences of their actions. The story has weight, the characters are real and human and messy and tragic, the war is unjustified in its means and methods and purpose. It's the failure of Viserys' legacy and a reflection of the flaws of monarchy and specifically the ideals Targaryen supremacy. No side is right and the other wrong. Nobody's a hero.

This is where the show has failed in its adaptation. It has abandoned its themes, along with several characters, characterizations, and plot points, in order to create their own narrative that fits a story that they think will sell best to the casual modern viewer: essentially, redemption for Daenerys fans after the catastrophe of Game of Thrones' ending. By making up prophecy and dream stuff to give to Rhaenyra and also giving her some of that Dany "change the world" mentality that was absent in the source material, the writers can cut apart the character of Rhaenyra and make her into a new Daenerys, and this time they can give the fans want they wanted for Daenerys. Except Rhaenyra is not Daenerys at all, and their only similarity is dragon riding queen seeking to inherit their father's throne. Changing the narrative so Rhaenyra becomes the new Daenerys and a true hero of the story ruins the underlying themes of Fire and Blood and specifically the Dance.

Rhys Ifans likely read Fire and Blood and actually knows what he's talking about. The point of the Dance isn't "heroic woman attempting to overthrow the patriarchy is burned and destroyed by the patriarchy and agents of the patriarchy." The takeaway isn't just "misogyny and sexism are bad and hurt women" like the show hammers in so heavily every single episode. It's "the pursuit of power by the already powerful comes at the cost of innocents, war is never justified no matter what (and certainly not justified by manifest destiny, someone's dream of saving the world, or even 'misogynists stole my throne') and the violence of war destroys indiscriminately." There should be catharsis when gray characters who have done good but also horrific bad in the pursuit of power finally face the consequences and die early deaths. Like, for example, the end of Succession: none of the Roy siblings get what they want, and we understand why, and even though parts of their character are sympathetic and tragic to us, we can objectively view them as flawed and selfish people whose decisions led to this ultimate, inevitable conclusion where they don't get what they want, and it's deserved. This is what House of the Dragon should have been. Tragic, flawed characters on both sides acting selfishly but realistically to seize power from each other and ultimately failing. But the writers opted for an oversimplified morality tale of good vs evil to push their version of feminism into the story where it doesn't belong, at the detriment to the characters and the story to the point it goes against the themes and messages of the source material.

#asks #hotd critical #anti hotd

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lorhaghanima · 6 months ago

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so, it finally happened. writers of the hotd finally destroyed everything good about it, any potential it once had, all for some kind of... agenda?

they were destroying greens slowly during the whole season two. aemond, being hateful and vengeful, but not towards ones, who deserve it (the blacks), no - to aegon, his brother, his king. aemond not having any interaction with alys rivers, instead of it the whole season and a potentially large part of their relationship was given to daemon - prophecies, visions, support in war, romantic implications. helaena, whose scene of great loss was cut, happened because of incompetence of writers royal guards (absolutely impossible for a setting), somehow her mother's affair (which is also impossible, since there's know way criston could be the only and personal protectpr of helaena and kids), and she was robbed of her burden (choice between sons) and her grieve (she is already unhappy most of the time, not cheerful, not beloved, and her loss doesn't haunt the narrative the way it should - the way it traumatized the whole family daeron who). aegon crippled not in battle and with glory, but by betrayal of his own brother (supposed to be his supporter), also deprived of his rightful grieve and anger, and even his dragon - the most beautiful, the most loyal, sunfyre, so important for the original story and our understanding, how strong and unbreakable this bond can be - erased to one scene. alicent - oh, my sweet alicent, i will remember the one, who could've been - the one we lose completely. alicent, who always loves and protected the monstrosity and beauty and destiny of motherhood and queenhood, what have they done to you? alicent, who stands in front of dragon, to protect aegon (at least try to protect him), alicent, who cuts her husband's beloved daughter and heir to the throne because all of the injustice done to aemond, alicent, who loves, loves, loves, her sweet daughter helaena (even in first part of season two she says - but what have they done to my daughter?). alicent, the actual queen, alicent, beloved by the smallfolk, alicent, respected by the council, alicent, loyal to her family to the core. where did you go, my beloved?

And to the worst part - all of this was done for one purpose - to remind us once again about this targaryen supremacy. that they are chosen ones, that they are supposed to save everyone, that they are gods, not men, and they will not be punished by the story, instead - they will be victimised, they will be martyred, they will be rewarded for cruelty. The blacks have only two options in season two - they are either absurdly boring (cause they can't have any flaws, and supposed to be heroic - that's why it safer to make them blank and dull), or they are chosen, special, destined - to rule westeros, to ride dragons, to get whatever they want. this, of course, are qualities of the right kind of targaryens - the blacks, the connected with daenerys ones, not the whole family, obviously. This is the reason, why rhaenyra has nothing to do with the death of a child, somehow goes to the king's Landing and tries negotiations with alicent, breaks up with not-so-perfect daemon, tames bronze fury just because she can, and acting incredibly passive most of the season. This is the reason, why we don't have nettles - girl of color, of unknown birth, younger and more beautiful, who tames the dragon using only her wits, survives the story, surpasses the tragedy. of course we don't have you, dear nettles - you are a mirror, where targaryen, mostly daemon and rhaenyra, were supposed to see their flaws.

I remind you, that hotd is supposed to be an interpretation of a very specific story. One where dragons dance and house targaryen falls. One where smallfolk kills the dragons, where dragons are monsters, destroying cities, and targaryens are false gods and precarious rulers. The cursed war - kin against kin. The narrative, where everyone is dead long before the beginning, everyone is doomed. It's not supposed to praise house targaryen, on the contrary - it says 'look, what they've done, look, what they do', 'look, how treacherous, flawed, hypocritical, unnatural, brutal, unreliable they ALL are, even to each other', and what is most important - 'look, they can be killed, look, they can fall, look the dragons and their riders bleed, and we can destroy them'.

and all of this potential, all of this greekish kind of tragedy, lost... and i have no idea, what for.

#house of the dragon #anti hotd #hotd meta #hotd season 2 #alicent hightower #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #helaena targaryen #the greens #the blacks #nettles #hotd spoilers #anti ryan condal

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seancekitsch · 10 days ago

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PLEEEASEEEE WRITE AN EPILOGUE OF GWAYNE AND READER PLEASE

“I fear that we are worse off now that you are of the same mind,” Alicent remarks, looking over the plans for your hasty wedding. You had scribbled hasty notes of what you wanted a wedding gown to look like, deep blues and greens to match both houses. Her brother had you pulled into his lap as if he has no shame, actively teasing you with his touches and remarks as he writes in his own requests, a lot to do with the food and and festivities that occur after the ceremony itself.

“And what do you think?” he asks loudly, “Shall there be a public bedding for us?”

“I am leaving!” Alicent exclaims, sounding scandalized but there is a sly smile on her face. Alicent is happy for you, overwhelmingly so. Your union will end animosity between her two favorite people in Westeros, a blessing to the entire court and royal family that have been witness to all of your bickering. She more or less skips to the door, leaving the happy couple to planning for the afternoon. Later tonight, she will ask you over dinner to show her what you’ve decided so far and she’ll promptly make sure it all gets done.

“Well, now that you’ve scared your sister away…” you begin, leaning further into his chest until Gwayne’s nose touches yours, “A bedding? You wish to watch other men undress me, Ser Gwayne? Wish to let other women undress you? And here I thought you had eyes for only me.”

Gwayne purses his lips, as if he has to think about the actual process of the bedding ceremony. He squints as he pretends to ponder the implications of the act.

“On second thought, no,” his lips form into a wide grin, hungry, “I wish for no man to see what I possess with my mouthy little bride.”

“What you possess? Is that all I am to you: a possession?” you are quick to fire back; anger has bubbled into love, but habits die hard. He kisses the skeptical look from your face, dropping his quill to wrap his arms around you. His hands are warm, incredibly so, something that you’ve noticed now and you almost hate yourself for denying for so long. You sigh into the kiss, immediately reciprocating as the two of you fall into a familiar dance. Your affection is push and pull and give and take, where one starts the other ends. But there are matters to attend to, you remember, and you pull yourself away from him despite all of the temptation not to.

“Well must finish this,” you tell him, “But maybe I’ll let you chase me around the castle later.”

You wink at him, and Gwayne has the nerve to growl back, teeth gritted in frustration as he throws his head back. He leans forward to grab his quill again, his eyes trailed solely onto the parchment now.

“We shall have this done by the end of the hour,” he promises you, his voice slightly strained as he gets back to his planning. All you can do is giggle.

#gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne x reader

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asumofwords · 1 year ago

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The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Angst.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Oh lordy, we all need a friend like Helaena don't we? She is just such a sweet angel. Here is the next chapter, hehe. Enjoy <3

Chapter 12: The Red Keep

The flight to the Red Keep was quick, and you had been almost horrified when the driver had driven you onto the tarmac at the airport and up to a small jet. Your eyes had widened, and the driver had to insist on you getting out of the car and into the private plane.

You had sent Helaena some nervous texts, promising to pay her back, feeling guilty about how much it would have cost, to which she had replied that it was Viserys’ money and he had plenty of it.

It did little to quell the guilt that built within you, but you thanked her profusely in the air anyway, wifi available on the flight.

It felt weird to be surrounded by sudden wealth, Helaena never usually opting to use it and making her own way in life. If this was what she had at her fingertips, you wondered why she didn’t use the convenience of it more often.

But then again, you grew up with no money, and she didn’t. This could be as mundane as a bus trip to her.

The flight would have been barely over an hour long, and when you had landed, you were met by a sleek black Mercedes on the small and private landing strip amongst rolling green hills.

Criston Cole sat in the driver seat, a tanned man with dark curly hair and darker brown eyes, dressed head to toe in a black uniform, greeting you politely by your last name as he took your bag for you, putting it in the boot swiftly before opening the door for you to get in.

The Keep was situated outside of the city, a large estate on many acres of land, surrounded by sea, rolling green hills and forests. It was a historical site that had been passed down through the Targaryen family for hundreds of years, with almost a hundred rooms within to match. They even had their own private botanical garden with the rarest of plants within, that housed one of the oldest trees in Westeros.

It was extravagant, and you felt a sudden sense of anxiety as you drove up a long and winding path, large gates opening automatically as you jiggled your leg in your seat. The Keep towered atop a hill, red brick work looking like they had been soaked in blood in the dark of the night as the car rolled up, headlights shining at two large wooden doors to the entrance.

Helaena was standing in the spotlight, large slippers on her feet and oversized lavender sleep shirt sliding off of one shoulder. When you jumped out of the car she let you walk to her quickly, throwing yourself into her arms as she held you, soothing your back as tears threatened to fall once more, apologising meekly into her neck.

“Shhh,” She cooed, gentle fingers running along your spine, “You’ve done nothing wrong. I could never be mad at you.”

“But I-“

“-I’m mad at my brother. Not you. Let’s get some sleep, hm?”

You let Helaena drag you up through the Keep, Criston following closely behind with your bag. You had tried to turn and take it from him, but he had given you a stern glare with his handsome face, insisting he carry it for you.

The walls of the Targaryen’s Keep were tall and made of stone, various portraits of Targaryen ancestors strung on the walls, and tapestries of art from across the years and realms hanging delicately for decor. You couldn’t help but notice some newer editions to the Keep, heavy green works and sigils of the Seven Pointed Star that almost outnumbered the Valyrian traditions.

When you reached Helaena’s room, it was larger than your entire apartment. It had four poster bed with draped lavender and cream curtains in the centre, and its own sitting room. A writing desk was pushed into the corner on a far wall near a large stone fireplace. She guided you to sit on the bed, taking your bag from Criston before she thanked him and dismissed him for the night.

“I’m sorry-“

“Shh.” Helaena’s voice came out sharper, “Go to sleep, bug. I don’t want to hear another apology from you, okay?”

The way she spoke reminded you so much of Aemond.

You nodded sadly, and pulled back the sheets, crawling beneath before Helaena joined you, turning the lights off as she settled against her pillow. She let you cry beside her, and stroked a soothing hand up and down your arm.

Eventually the both of you fell to sleep, too exhausted to stay awake or cry any longer.

When you woke the next morning, it was to light streaming into the room from Helaena’s sheer curtains, the bright suns rays warming the room already. You stirred, looking beside you to find Helaena already awake and on her phone.

She turned her head to look at you, scrunching her nose, “You snore.”

Your mouth gaped, “I do not.” You blushed, feeling embarrassed.

Helaena hummed cheekily, before her face turned more serious, “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” You grumbled, tummy aching as you remembered your forgotten noodles uneaten and left behind in your room.

An uneasy quiet settled around you as she watched your face, phone set flat against her chest as she took you in. Her lilac eyes bored into your own, and you fought the urge to not wriggle in the spot.

“Do you love him?” Helaena asked abruptly and you felt your mouth turn dry.

Love him?

Did you?

It was too soon to tell.

But there was no denying there was something powerful that you felt for her brother.

“I don’t know.” You said quietly, and Helaena looked at you as if she knew the answer herself.

The silver haired woman shifted in the bed, sitting up before she ripped the sheets away from you, “Right. No more moping. You had one night and one night only for the sad girl special.”

You looked at her incredulously.

“Hel, what the Hell?”

“You hungry?” She ignored your comment, crawling out of bed, stretching high on her toes to stretch her spine, long arms in the air.

Helaena was giving you an out.

A distraction.

And so you took it.

“Starved.” You chirped back, though the tone fell flatter than you intended.

Helaena turned around and lifted a brow at you, “Come on, let’s go eat before the boys demolish everything in sight.”

You nodded in agreement, going to stand before you followed her down to a large open kitchen at the bottom, back doors opening up to a grassy garden which led to a tiled area with chairs and tables littered here and there. A creamy white gazebo was seen a few ways away, and the sitting area bled into a large swimming pool, spa nestled beside it.

“Woah.”

Helaena, noticing your eye line scoffed, “I know right? Talk about gaudy. Mum had the pool upgraded. Not that she needed too. It’s only her, and she doesn’t even use it.”

Two chefs moved about the kitchen quickly, large island in the centre being gradually filled with food of all kinds. Pastries, meats, breads, fruits, eggs. It was almost a buffet style.

You felt strangely out of place.

“Morning.” Helaena greeted the two chefs, to which they turned and nodded 'morning' back to her. Her face met yours and she grimaced.

You were glad she felt just as uneasy as you.

At least you had each other.

You grabbed a plate, following Helaena and piled it full of food that you wanted to eat, asking your friend where you could make some tea. Hel pointed you to a kettle, and you felt grateful that you would be able to make your own tea for breakfast. Though there was a sting in knowing that a certain silver haired man hadn’t done it for you.

“Good morning, girls.” A voice chirped from behind you, and you turned to face the auburn haired woman you had come to know well.

“Morning mum.” Helaena returned, eyes not lifting from where she piled another pancake upon her already high stack.

Alicent Hightower stood in a green dress shirt, darker green blazer thrown over the top, matched with a pair of black slacks and heels. She wore a dark red lipstick and gold jewellery, nails matching her lips.

You couldn’t help but notice a similarity between her and Alys, but shrugged it away.

“Y/n,” Her hands were held in front of her, “I’m so glad you could make it.”

Alicent stepped forward to kiss at the air beside both of your cheeks, a blush rising along your neck as you awkwardly and stiffly returned it. Her long curly hair was pulled back away from her face with a butterfly clip at the back of her head, and against her chest was a Seven Pointed Star.

You shook your head, “Thank you for having me. I’m sorry I-“

“-None of that.” She chastised in a motherly way, “You are always welcome here at any time.”

You wet your lips and nodded, “Thank you.”

“It has been a while since I saw you last. I trust you know your way around?”

“Kind of.”

“Not to worry, Helaena can make sure you don’t get lost.”

Helaena groaned, and Alicent shifted on her feet.

“I’m leaving for the day, have some work I need wrapped up.”

Your lips parted, about to apologise for leaving your job on such short notice.

A job at her firm no less.

She eyed your sudden shift and dismissed you, “No need to worry about this week, I have already informed Larys you are on carers leave for family business here.”

Carers leave?

But that was paid leave.

“Alicent I-“

Her look stopped you in your tracks.

There was no arguing.

“Thank you.” You said again, feeling sheepish and all too overwhelmed with both her and Helaena’s generosity.

She nodded as though she approved of the way you had responded, as if it was the way that you should have responded, as though it was a response that had been written down in a book to be studied, ‘Duty to guests and hosts.’

Alicent Hightower stepped over to Helaena to kiss her cheek. You watched as her daughter shied away from it slightly, but allowed it nonetheless with a stiff spine.

“Behave.” She warned her, before casting you one last smile, “If you need anything, let Criston know." And then she set off with a click of her heels.

Helaena rolled her eyes, grabbing her stack of pancakes as you finished making your tea.

You both made your way outside to sit at a large table, eating your breakfast with hungry speed. It was a beautiful day. The sun shone warmly down on you, the sounds of birds was loud in the distant trees, and the softest of breezes rolled over your bare arms and legs.

“So, did you bring your swimmers?” Helaena asked, mouth full of pancakes.

You nodded in affirmation, “Uh huh.”

“Good,” She smiled, “We can claim the pool first if we hurry.”

“Claim? Hel, It's huge.”

She swallowed the chunk of pancake she had been chewing on, syrup on the corner of her lip that she licked off with a quick swipe of her tongue, “Yeah, and the boys have been having a pissing war with each other, calling dibs on the pool. It’s been driving me insane.”

You laughed softly, imaging Aegon and Daeron bickering amongst themselves, “Is Jace and Luc here yet?”

Helaena smiled, “Yeah, and they’re the worst of all.” She snickered, “Can’t know a moment of peace with those two. They’re so chatty. Not that Aegon helps. Daeron is more observing than usual which is nice.”

You were excited at the prospect of seeing Luc and Jace again, but you worried that the news of your arrival, the reasoning behind it would only cause more family rifts than there already were.

“Don’t worry," Helaena began, her sixth sense picking up on your sudden quiet, “I won’t tell anyone what’s happened, okay?”

You nodded, “Okay.”

Helaena swiped a finger through the syrup on her plate. How she managed to inhale all seven pancakes in one sitting amazed you. She brought the sticky digit to her lips which she sucked clean.

“Let’s get changed and have a pool day!” She beamed, and her excitement rubbed onto you.

You laid in the sun for hours side by side, intermittently jumping into the pool to cool off.

Helaena told you about how her dad was doing, and from the sound of it, they expected him to pass any day now, which made you feel selfish in having intruded on their pre-mourning. But Helaena had shrugged, and told you that he had been sick for a very long time, most had already mourned his loss despite him still being there. It was a waiting game. And each morning they waited with bated breath to see if he would rise from his sleep.

It was brutal, but honest.

Warmth spread over your body as you laid on your back in a pool chair, the heat of the sun almost pulling you into a nap from how comforting it was. It was nice to not be at work, and to be away from your apartment. To have a moment of respite and relaxation.

A shadow crossed over your body, and you frowned.

Damn cloud.

“Boo.”

You shrieked, jumping up from where you lay, eyes wide and darting up to a short silver head of hair, wild smile on his lips.

Aegon.

“Egg, you prick.” Helaena groused, turning onto her side to look up at her brother, book long forgotten and large floppy hat tilted sideways on her head.

You sat up higher in the chair, looking up at Aegon as he smiled down at you, “Miss me?” He teased, waggling his brows at you.

You pulled a face.

He was in his swim shorts and nothing else.

Aegon was wider, stockier, and shorter than Aemond or the other siblings, who seemed to be made of long, graceful limbs. And Aegon was anything but graceful. His face was softer too, looking much more Alicent than any of them did.

Aemond was the outlier with his sharp jaw and nose.

“Like a hole in the head.” You teased back, standing to hug him tightly.

His embrace was warm, snug, and not at all as flirtatious as it once had been.

“Enjoying the Palace goodies?”

“Go away.” Helaena whined, falling back onto her back, long groan pushed out of her chest.

“Am I not allowed to say hello to our guest?”

“You’ve said hello. Now say goodbye. It’s our pool today.”

Aegon mock gasped, and you had to chew your cheek to not laugh, “What would mother dearest say? ‘Sharing is caring, Helaena.’”

The silver haired woman huffed, “You share a bit too much…” She grumbled quietly.

“What was that?”

A slender hand lifted and presented a solitary finger in Aegon’s direction.

His laugh was contagious.

Aegon sat himself down in the chair beside you, catching up on the both of your lives, bar your recent escapades with his brother, and you learnt that Aegon was considering studying at Kings Landing University but was undecided on what he wanted to do.

You watched as he eventually pulled himself to stand, looking down at you, “You coming in?” He asked, hand held out to you in invitation.

“Nah, not yet. In a minute though.”

“Lame.”

Aegon ran and jumped, diving, ungracefully, into the water with a large splash near the edge, though it was more like a belly flop with arms that bent downwards to enter the water first. Water splashed out of the pool and small droplets landed on you, where as a large splash crashed onto Helaena.

“Ah!” She cried, “You fucking asshole!”

Aegon came up, tossing his wet hair away from his face with a laugh, smirk pulling on his lips as he came up to the edge slowly. There was no denying that he was handsome, white teeth peeking through soft pink lips.

Helaena sat upright, “No.”

Aegon’s smirk only widened.

“Aegon, don’t you fucking dare.”

His violet gaze flicked to you and then back to his sister.

His mind was made up.

His arm crashed against the surface of the water, sending it flying at Helaena.

It soaked her in her seat, frustrated growl falling from her lips as she stood, throwing her soggy hat to the side.

Aegon’s smirk dropped.

You couldn’t control your laughter, stomach clenching as you watched Helaena jump nearly on top of Aegon’s head as he tried to swim away from her, her hands slapping at him and pulling his hair childishly.

“Okay, okay, okay!! Mercy!” He cried, finally throwing Helaena from his back and into the water again.

She emerged with a scowl, wet hair slicked backwards, “Douchebag. You ruined my book.”

“Buy another.”

“Ugh.”

“Did you see mother this morning?” Aegon looked at you finally, swimming over to you as he watched you sit on the waters edge, legs dangling into the pool.

You nodded.

“Oh good.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “She was worried she wouldn’t catch you. The twins will be here soon.”

“Thank the Gods.” Helaena praised, “I need a break from you and the boys stench.”

Aegon frowned, “Who says we stink?”

Helaena dipped her head into the water, sucking some into her cheeks as she spat it at her brothers face, his hand coming to shield it poorly, “Me.”

Aegon turned to face you again, “Do you see how mean she is to me? How do you even stand her?”

You smirked, biting at your bottom lip, “I don’t know what your talking about.”

His eyes narrowed, “The Stranger will get you for your lies and deceit.”

You spent the rest of the day in the sun, Aegon settling beside the two of you, his presence clearly annoying his sister, but you acted as a buffer and indulged him in minor conversation. Daeron had joined you a while later, and you had hugged him tightly to you.

When the day grew long and you had spent more than enough time in the suns rays, Helaena took you back to her room and the ensuite joined to it, insisting you shower and get yourself ready for some dinner.

You washed your hair, running shampoo through it to get the smell of chlorine out. Helaena jumped in straight after, talking to you as you began to put some light makeup on in the large mirror at the double sinked basin.

This was something you had missed in her absence. Getting ready together, talking and chatting mindlessly, playing music as loud as possible as the both of you sang as loudly as you could. You didn’t know just how much you had missed her until that moment, and a wave of sadness crashed over you.

She wasn’t the only person you missed.

Your mind strayed to Aemond. You wondered what he was doing. How he was feeling. You wondered if Alys was back in your apartment now that you were gone.

Did she stay the night?

Was she in his bed with him?

Did she-

“Oi. Cut it out.” Helaena’s voice broke you out of your revery.

She was wrapped in her towel, cheeks flushed pink from the sun and hair dripping down her back.

You smiled at her sheepishly, “Sorry.”

“If I hear you say sorry once more, I’ll drown you in the pool.”

You held your hands up in surrender as she came beside you at the mirror, pulling down her skin care to rub moisturiser into her face and body.

“What are you wearing tonight?” She asked you, long pale finger rubbing circles into her cheek as her lilac eyes locked onto your face in the mirror.

“Dunno. Something casual?”

Helaena screwed the lid of her moisturiser back on before putting it in its spot on the shelf, “Hmm. No. Wear something nice. A cute dress. Tonight we are letting loose.”

You chuckled at her, brushing mascara over your eyelashes, “I don’t need to dress up to let loose.”

“No, but I’m not having you mope about. Got enough of that as is from my mother and Eggy. Dress up for me,” She turned to you, putting on her best puppy dog eyes, bottom lip sticking out, “Please.”

Shaking your head you snickered, “Fine. So needy.”

“Yes!”

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ladythornofrivia · 1 year ago

Text

Kingdom of Fire & Blood || (Part Two)—Revised

🐉 MASTERLIST 🐉

Next Chapter

summary: modern!reader survived from the attack. But the new coming threat awaits her.

pair: aemond x reader

warnings & disclaimer: smut, violence, p in v sex, sexual content, aemond being arrogant, modern reader doesn’t know how the world of GOT works but is a Aemond stan, praise kink, breeding kink, spitting kink, voice kink, fluff, angst—family drama, oral sex, hate sex, stalking, jealousy, virginity loss, size kink, obsession, reader being sassy and aroused, sweet moments with reader and Aemond. Reader is a huge GOT & HOTD fan. Pro-Green, Reader is a green supporter. Aemond becomes king instead of Aegon. (P.S. Alys who? I only know Aemond x Reader)

a/n: I’m sorry; I have to redo the chapter due to my perfectionism and complications of getting my chapter point across. I hope it's better this time. By the way, I misspelled Criston’s name so I edited on the first chapter, and my mind STILL wouldn’t stop thinking about Aemond. I hope you enjoy.

Chapter Two: The Green Star

Within their reach towards the destination in King’s Landing, under a stretched mile, moving from town to town, and markets and orphanage—after entering through Gate of the Gods—someone held you tight with one arm as he gripped the reins with the other hand. Your head bobbed and flopped from the tremendous speed from a horse. Your eyes opened to a band of armored men couldn’t find words to question or dare to challenge at someone’s actions from carrying you—a mysterious young woman—in his arms.

With your one eye open, for the last few hours, the moonlight casting its soft radiant light over the lands. Finally, underneath a cloaked hood, you spotted Criston Cole. You knew him, of course, based on how he acts in the show. Men who have seen Criston—his excellence in combat in training grounds and battlefield—never gave or reveal a soft spot for a woman. For a Knight in Westeros, the knights held the upkeep of never to lay a hand on a woman, let alone consummating a woman. Just like kings and queens, knights’ reputation must purify through oath and the civility of duty, not by the heart.

Within these governed laws must require a sheer will to not break a vow from a source of desperate love and intimacy or camaraderie of long-lasting companionship, one woman to the next. Being sent into the Wall and join the Night’s Watch is inescapable when choosing to lay or develop affections for a woman, whether the woman is married or lonesome whether being a bachelorette or widow. Or perhaps through dissent, other than committing a heinous crime. Once being sent at the Wall, the stories on what they have done in Westeros will be nothing but a fruitless conversation.

Meanwhile in Criston’s thoughts, although Criston thought you’re beautiful—even in your sleep—he does not love any woman; his unshared notions and expression to come into terms on how he adore the Targaryen princess, Rhaenyra, but all that’s forgotten when she gave birth to not one but three children and is betrothed and married to Prince Laenor Velaryon. Soon it erases the traced reminiscences of their shared times between the princess and the knight in armor, Rhaenyra, as a mother, placed her adoration for the children—and the claims to the Iron Throne—above all else.

But now he still loathes the dragon princess, buries hatred it in secrecy for Rhaenyra leaving him, and swear loyalty to Queen Alicent—as you read and watched the show.

Once the army infiltrated through the colossal gates, halfway to the Red Keep, you spotted Criston and his men trudged their way on the crowd—men, women and children were all staring at Criston Cole, but for one main reason: you—your hood came off due to the rush of wind. Although Criston carried you with ease and attentiveness, lifting you in his arms without so much of a trouble despite traveling, how his arm grew tired, not wanting to carry you anymore, but does it to maintain his clean image.

At first they made no effort to complain to Criston’s questionable nature regarding to his deeds. Bringing a young woman is unexpected.

“If you so much on planning to bring a whore into the Targaryens’s court, I do not wish but to think of the worst consequences for you and for the good of the realm. Your decision will cause a catastrophic downfall,” the man beside Criston spoke with urgency.

Criston spun his head and pierced his deadly and relaxed glare. “I’m in no position to take anyone as my bitch, ser. In fact, why don’t you do as you’re told by our queen.”

“You mean your queen,” the man seethed.

Criston ignored him, rolling his eyes.

“In fact, you can put this useless girl in the Street of Silk. She’ll be a great asset to men who needs tight cunt for a good breeding and it can swallow every seed and it can give birth to multiple bastards until she accepts her failure in death.”

Criston halted his tracks. “Then why don’t throw yourself to a woman’s cunt in the Street of Silk, Ser Marrow. I’m sure the fine ladies in King’s Landing will appreciate your service on fucking someone for having delicate desire of yours.”

This did not sit well with Ser Marrow. In fact, Ser Marrow could not register Criston’s reasoning on bringing the girl.

Knowing this won’t end well, but the girl has to be robust.

Hasten into the street of Rose Road, but then encountered traffic, to which he lead the horse to Street of Sisters, then turned right at Flea Bottom. Flea Bottom, filled with watchful eyes as Criston Cole and his men passed through.

All was quiet until you heard the words all at once:

“A whore!”

“The knight is carrying a whore!”

“Kill him!”

“To the death of the knights!”

“Fuck the Targaryens!”

People in Flea Bottom cheered as they fell from the windows of their townhomes and landed on the knights, who are all powerless when their swords were still in their sheaths; the swords are long to draw out for retaliation.

Criston, as brutal as he is, stabbed and slashed with his jagged sword, as people roared with rage and clawed the stallions skin. By their mistake, the horses punted and jabbed and ran, stomping over people’s bodies, and reached to the Street of Looms by the west side of the road.

Criston errored. When he glanced behind him, the people who are left alive still hunted them down, but his comrades slashed their way through for a clear promenade.

Night is throng with potential threats and sacrifice.

“For fuck's sake," he hissed. "We must reach to the Red Keep! Warn the others!” Criston shouted. “We must protect the Targaryen line!”

Suddenly the man’s speed had caught up with Criston and yanked you by the cloak and dragged you below, but Criston pierced his bloody sword on a man’s throat and retrieved you back in one swoop as his steed and his company ushered in the entrance gates of Red Keep.

By the time the gates are shut tight, you have woken up, but immobile and drowsy.

“Where…” your voice croaked. “Where am I?”

“You’re safe, my lady,” a voice said, looking up, you spotted none other than Criston Cole, a character you recognized in the House of the Dragon.

Screaming, you nearly throw yourself off the horse, but Criston held you. Though the men behind you gave an impression of unused to seeing your antics.

“At ease, my lady. You’re safe,” he said with a tight smile.

You cringed at his pretentious charm.

Did I potentially became an actress without giving an audition and be on a set of House of the Dragon?

But then recalling Ser Remon Blackwood’s words and call upon a realization. Westeros is real.

“Sorry, you just have me startled,” you said, deadpan. But you felt a tremendous wave of affliction after facing three men who tried to ambush you.

“It’s quite alright,” he said, still wearing a tight-lipped smile. Dismounted from his horse, he helped you down and ambled towards the stoned bridge. “Stay behind my men; they’ll protect you.”

Out of nowhere, Prince Daemon comes to into a scene.

“You’re late, Ser Criston,” he said with a sardonic grin.

Excited as you’re now, Prince Daemon wasn’t really your favorite member of House Targaryen.

“Apologies, my prince. I never knew you’re concerned of my punctuality, you’re merely acting as a dutiful handmaiden,” Criston remarked smoothly.

Asshat, as always.

Prince Daemon scowled. “Alicent needs you at this moment. I’m here to see my brother, not as a messenger. That damnable green star has caused ruckus to Caraxes and I.”

Criston’s jaw shifted from gritting his teeth. “I’m her guard not her hound.”

Prince Daemon rolled his eyes, and marched upon the gates leading to the Red Keep.

You’re certain that your wounds won’t fall into another failure as you watched Criston speaking to Daemon. One man leaned over against your ear. “One wrong move and you’re good as dead,” he warned.

Giving him a cold shoulder, you gazed upon the view of the dark ocean and crystal, ink sky. From gazing at far away town, it was magnificent, but upon a closer view, you knew how the underbelly of King’s Landing is.

Then looking upon the Red Keep, you were still in awe of the structure, vibrancy with crimson and ivory. But before you admire other parts of the Red Keep, two of the men blindfolded you—one wrapped the fabric on your eyes, the other on your wrists, then tackled you down while the others ignored your voice.

“One more sound and I’ll slit your throat,” he said.

Hiding behind them, even with a dark vision, you’re carefully planning out on your exit avoid of gaining infliction.

With a strike of punch, there’s not much you could do but felt trapped into a situation you can’t escape in.

The noise ensued.

The swords had drawn in.

Overhearing Prince Daemon is being ambushed by a band of thieves and killers who clambered out from under the bridge in the usage of strong rope and hooks secured and pierced the stone. Hoisting themselves in the air as they drew their blades out, attacking the rogue prince.

Grunt by grunt, Prince Daemon sliced and slashed through ragged clothe.

Though two of the men dead, except the bulky man with a great sword, twice as thick and honed. When he lifted the sword, you blocked the attack with a dagger in one hand while your eyes are blindfolded. With your rage, the green spark eroded, and snapped the sword in half, your blindfold tore in half, leading you doing a spin kick across the man’s cheek, sent him flying around seven feet away. Criston, Daemon and the army watched in awe. The dagger shattered; picking up the dead man’s sword, tying the sheath's belt around your waist, you clutched the blade and fought your way near the entrance. Although you retaliate, you earned wounds gashed on your exposed flesh.

When Jacaerys and Helaena appeared outside the palace due to curiosity, they spotted you fighting the band of killers with one slice and left them dead, blood sprayed everywhere, and tainted your peculiar clothe, fighting together with Prince Daemon.

Jacaerys—Jace—drew his blade out, but Helaena held him back, but Jace stubbornly charged in. Prince Daemon spotted them a mile away and towards the man who attempts to aim Jace’s head maimed through a roundish belly and fell down, the man’s body split into two. You managed to seize Jace and dodged the attack—blocking the blade from the killer before managed to have the upper hand; piercing through the heart, returning Jace back to Helaena’s side in one piece. “Get back inside! I’ll take it from here,” you said before charging back into the battlefield on the bridge.

The sentinels and men from the City Watch fought with their battle cry, attracting the attention from commoners at the streets behind them, flooding in, scattered at every corner.

Unbeknownst to you, Prince Daemon wondered who you were, or where you came from or why you came with Ser Criston. But you skills in battlefield, hasn’t seen anything extraordinary. He parried and lanced through the enemy’s chest. Behind Daemon, the killer held a brick and held above his head, but your split his head into two.

Prince Daemon’s peered at you as you smiled at him shortly before the men were charging towards the heirs. You skewered and slashed their legs in half; the earning of the intruders’ agony was worth it.

Until the man, thrown Helaena off the bridge, her shrilled screams filled the night’s air, but Helaena seized the rope, holding onto her dear life. When the man undo the hook, you knocked him out with a kick on his balls, resulting of him falling back with howling cry.

“Give me your hand,” you said to Helaena, your other hand outstretched to hers.

“Jace!” she bellowed, as the rope wobbled.

Behind you, Jace killed another man, who was trying to push you off the bridge.

“Help me pull the rope,” you said to Jace. Within an instant, you and Jace worked together and lifted Helaena off from the brink of death.

With the battle nearly over, you reached for Helaena’s hand and lead her back, safe and sound onto the bridge and fled with them into the gates.

Prince Daemon and Criston reached alongside.

“Close the gates!” Criston commanded. “Close the gates!”

“You’re safe,” you told them.

“I can’t thank you enough,” Jace said, putting a smile on his face.

Facing Helaena, you asked, “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” Helaena nearly sobbed. “Thank you.”

“See, everything’s alright.” You grinned widely.

Then a hot stab seared into your lower belly and collapsed; your body violently shaken, suffocating.

“Take the girl to the Maester,” Prince Daemon said, cut the traitor’s throat. “I’ll head back to the bridge with Caraxes.”

Screams echoed outside the gates, garnering everyone’s attention, but others fled into the Red Keep.

Your eyes gazed upon Jace and Helaena watched you in horror as Criston elevated in your arms, sprinting down in the castle, then through the secret passages, his mind motioning the idea of who could escort you faster to the Maester to dispose the poison; Criston rarely attends the healer’s room; Criston is an undefeated warrior with no battle scars.

With the last of your awake, you watched Criston entered the secret passage, and while crossing from a secluded hall, from there, he spotted the one-eyed prince, who returned from his training, softened at the sight of you, vulnerable in Criston’s arms, as you collapsed, eyes halfway lulled in oblivion. “She has been wounded,” you overheard Criston said.

Sheathing his sword, Aemond took an examine of you, as you examined him, listening in while dazed.

Tall and handsome, graced with fair hair and delicate yet strong features.

“What happened?” Aemond approached you.

Criston trudged passed Aemond and turned the corner into another hall. “The people from the Flea Bottom saw her, and wants me dead,” he said rather composedly.

“What you’re doing is treason,” Aemond reminded.

“Consequences be damned, my prince. But I found her alive in the forest.”

Aemond’s brow quirked. “How?”

“The men in armor are dead; all have been stabbed, and their cocks have been…cleaved,” Criston whispered at the last part.

Aemond’s eye widened.

“She saved Princess Helaena from falling of the high bridge, and protected Prince Daemon himself.”

Aemond’s hardened expression softened.

“Ask her once she’s awake,” Criston suggested.

Aemond suddenly swept you into his arms. “Go and ward off the people from Flea Bottom. Otherwise my mother will question your knighthood and send you to the Wall.”

Criston is relieved when you’re not in his arms anymore and fled back.

In these last awakened moments, your eyes saw but a glimpse of long, silver-gold hair glowing like halo, and a soft glow of his blue eye gaping into yours.

“Well done, my fair lady,” Aemond’s voice crooned. "You fought bravely."

Before you faded into your subconscious state.

~Aemond’s POV~

After positioned you onto the surgical table, he faced the Maester, who was bewildered at the dragon prince with a fallen maiden in his arms.

“You mustn’t tell no one of this,” Aemond said. “Heal her, and I’ll reward you well.”

Soon, he heard the footsteps, and sprinted outside the Maester’s room and hid among the shadows—after unlocking the secret wall and spied on Rhaenyra, and his mother, Alicent, who accompanied Rhaenyra the Maester’s room.

“Your Grace, Lady Rhaenyra,” the Maester bowed after prepping the medicine on his tiny desk beside the surgical table, where you lay.

“The men outside the Red Keep were severely injured,” Lady Rhaenyra said. “And the people from Flea Bottom arrived here without a warning, flooding through the gates; the guards were gravely injured from defense by the time we arrived.”

Queen Alicent, on the other hand, was surveying the maester with tensed posture.

“I cannot spare this room for the men,” the Maester said. “I shall send more healers for the guards. There’s another room for them to repose.”

Rhaenyra stood with neutral expression, still obtain a regal posture. “Good.”

Queen Alicent intruded with, “What of those from the Flea Bottom?”

“Syrax escorted them out,” Rhaenyra vexed. “I never would’ve expect that the plans to visit my father would come to terms of bloodshed.”

Queen Alicent chimed in with, “It is already been taken care of. However the penalties must continue; the people from Flea Bottom are beastly as they come, and should pay for its crimes from infiltrating the Red Keep.”

Rhaenyra darted her hues on Alicent. “The Commander of City Watch has been injured. That is why I came here on his behalf.”

“I’m sorry, my lady,” the Maester said. “I happen to be in a delicate procedure.”

Rhaenyra’s brows furrowed. “What might I ask what the cause of your refuse my request?”

The Maester turned around. Alicent and Rhaenyra pivoted their gaze to a lying figure on the table.

While laying still, you were mumbling incoherently, sighing.

“The poison has taken a great effect on her,” he said.

“Who brought her here?” Rhaenyra asked.

“Ser Criston, my lady,” the Maester said, but Queen Alicent knows that the tongue of a liar has shown nothing but hesitation; the grey eyes of an old maester averted. Alicent has known her subjects well for as long as she could remember; resided in King’s Landing for more than six years.

“What a strange attire she was wearing,” Rhaenyra commented, approaching your sleeping body, caressing the side of your face. “Beautiful girl, but, strange choice of appearance. Her gown is too short.” Then she took notice on your right thigh inked with a large and fiery outline of a red dragon stretched across the thigh, and on the arms until the knuckles of your delicate hands. “I’ve never seen anyone with strange markings,” she said, fascinated.

The maester gulped. “She fought valiantly outside the Red Keep, princess. She not only protected Prince Daemon, but rescued your son, Jacaerys, as well.” He then looked at Alicent with pride. “She also saved Princess Helaena from falling off to a drowning river beneath the bridge and consulted from this young girl before traitor stabbed her, contaminated with poison.”

Both Alicent and Rhaenyra are in deep bewilderment of the revelation regarding to your deeds.

“Impossible,” Rhaenyra said, paled.

“Are you certain?” Alicent chimed in.

“Yes, Your Grace,” he said. “Thank the gods your heirs has been graced by the valiant savior.”

Queen Alicent approached you, though rather carefully, studying your face.

“So young and vulnerable,” she whispered. “She shouldn’t die in vain. Not when she saved our children,” she said to Rhaenyra with watery eyes.

“She secured the successors to the Iron Throne and Driftmark,” Rhaenyra added.

Alicent could only stare at your visage. “We shall bless her with our gratitude.”

“We shall await for her recovery, and ask her questions, regarding to the green star,” Rhaenyra determined. “Until then, she must rest upon the hands between the Gods and you, Maester. Keep her alive and guarded from The Stranger.”

The Maester bowed. “As you wish, Lady Rhaenyra.”

As soon as Rhaenyra left, Alicent moved closer to the maester. “You have served as a Maester for many years of your excellent service. You may be truthful to your skills, but your eyes offered a lie. Tell me, who summoned her here?”

The Maester is unable to dart his eyes at her. “Your Grace,” is all he uttered.

“I can assure you that you won’t be punished; I shall spare you from the slice on your tongue,” she guaranteed, rather kindly. “Pray tell, who gave you the order? Who brought her here?”

After a minute of glancing at your sleeping form, he then veered at Alicent, and leaned against her ear. “Prince Aemond, Your Grace. He requested for me to treat her wounds and aid her through salvation, and handed her over to me—carried her from the entrance of the Red Keep.”

Alicent was awestruck once more with another revelation.

“I do not believe he sees her as Helaena’s rescuer to offer his gratitude,” she mumbled. “Rather more than what it lies beyond the prince’s decision.”

In the heart of a dragon prince’s mother, Aemond perceived the nature of your goodly heart. In the heart of a dragon prince still remains unknown. Rather what Queen Alicent seems to believe in.

Then the sincere smile fell onto her face.

~Your POV~

Your eyes have opened. Not in the apartment you lived in, but rather in the hands of a man who was drawing out the equipment to settle the resolute force on the poison that is bestowed on you.

In the maester’s room, there you were, your immovable body splayed at the rocked surface of the surgical table, weakened arms and hands clinging onto dear life. You wouldn’t hold still, not when the maester held the tools with honed end lancing on the poisoned area by your lower stomach.

“No, don’t touch me,” your groaned with plea, tears on the corner of your swell.

The old maester did his bidding, and gazed upon your agony with his melancholic eyes upon your fettle. For a short moment, you were sure that you’re going to die soon. With all that it’s left in your body is shattered and bleeding with venom, leak altogether against your raw and vulnerable flesh.

“It’s alright, my lady, you’re safe,” the maester said with a sad, polite smile.

“Don’t hurt me,” you pleaded, tears prickling.

“It’s alright,” the maester repeated, his gentle voice gradually turned to a firmed tone, petrified of severing you through medicine.

The heavy oak door opened, unveiling the dark silhouette. Though your vision remains unclear, it is obvious who entered the healing room.

A young woman with elongated copper-brown curls reached on her chest, with brown eyes and elegance of her dark green dress was flowing across the floor as she ambled, encountering the maester as you listened in.

“How is the girl?” she asked, rather in a motherly voice.

“I was eliminating the disinfection of the poison, Your Grace. The girl’s stature could not survive long in this dreaded indisposition. She won’t last. Her bones have been fractured and her flesh is newly bled.”

“Have you used the Milk of the Poppy,” the queen asked, hoping. Her hands folded together with anxiousness.

“She took the last of it, Your Grace,” he said with a scowl on his face. “The lack of substance is insufficient—only a quarter of the liquid left; her mind is as resilient as a bull’s head, still awake and eccentrically movable.” He wiped the bleeding knife, sighing. “Mumbling and groaning in her unconscious state. Gods be good.”

“What of her wounds? The markings? Will she ever move again?” Queen Alicent noted your deep scars forged on your smooth, delicate skin, her hand smoothed against your tousled, stiffed locks across your softened look on your face, sleeping.

“The girl requires the milk of the poppy. Should the girl move while under the stead of my delicate care on discarding the poison within her body, her death will be as slow and merciless,” he reminded the queen. “It cannot be undone—The Stranger won’t spare a second chance for anyone. In additional process of cleansing and stitching on her fresh wounds needed delicacy, requires of greater assistance.”

Queen Alicent comprehended. “Go see if there’s anymore milk of the poppy. Bring the other healers to aid the maester,” she eyed and told the servant.

“Yes, Your Grace.” The girl bowed and quitted, skittered through the door.

Queen Alicent ambled and sat beside your restful sleep, whilst you’re unaware of her presence, watching you laboring your staggered breath in the humid air, smothered in heated sweat. Queen Alicent bestowed her concern on your poor health that’s closely endangered, to be sent to the God of Death—The Stranger, one of the many Gods in Westeros. Regardless, Queen Alicent’s main concern is your well-being.

“The effect won’t last long,” he reminded the queen. “There so little of the substance.”

Queen Alicent swept your hair longer. “Do what you must, Maester.”

For she and the others have something else in store for you once you gained consciousness and well accord.

As of now, you must battle your life between the air of life and death.

Piercing cries reached into the barricaded doors in the Red Keep. For those who walked pass by near the halls and down on the staircases leading to the lower grounds, would surely be terrorized by the sounds of your screams that is twice as loud. They were certain it was a dying sound of a dragon, but they were undeniably mistaken.

Luckily, the doors were sealed. No one was awake at the sound of your voice.

“Keep her still,” the maester instructed.

The godswives pinned you down from failing on the table each time you shifted. On a pair of limped legs, your one leg slithered downward across the table, and one of your fractured bones punctured with twinge of pain, searingly poking and a sensation of splinting.

You could no longer withstand the pain, not with the surgical instrument lancing through your bleeding skin. The wounds on your flesh stopped the blood from flowing. Albeit the process was painstakingly slow. The poison was heating up from your stomach and down on your hip.

And the conflict you upheld will unleash. One kick sent the godswife fell on the floor before she had seized your lower calf.

The door boomed, unveiling the healer delivering the milk of the poppy to the Maester. And Queen Alicent entered the room, which the Maester is unexpected with her reoccurring attendance.

The maester was undermined in the position of stress, hoping for other solution, but gained no new ideas to soothe you. Therefore, Queen Alicent went over to your side, ordering the godswife to loosen their grip.

“Listen to my voice,” Alicent murmured.

Little by little, you listened, but your breathing rasp with dejection.

“Don’t fight it, sweet girl,” she said gently, holding the cup filled with milk of the poppy. “This will do you good.”

Struggling to free from their grasp, you gazed at woman in green gown with trepidation.

“I don’t want to die,” you whispered with your ongoing struggle. “I have so much to live for.”

“You won’t be,” she reassured you, settling the cup into your parched lips, and you consumed the liquid and let your head fell down again. “Be brave,” she said. But this time, your struggle has dimmed, as did your eyes blurred harsher, unable to see the silhouettes of her, the maester and the knight. With your limbs sank, your breathing went from rush to steady flow. Your eyelids lulled into sleep.

~Aemond’s POV~

The repair of your wounds has gone successfully. Though rather took quite long, it has gone in favor. Rather, in Prince Aemond’s favor.

Aemond awaited in the dark of the great hall, eavesdropping his mother’s voice, and eyeing on you. As soon as she and Ser Criston left, Aemond met up with the Maester in silent haste.

“Have you told anyone of my whereabouts?”

“No, Your Highness.”

He knew that the Maester told Alicent; spying from one of the secret passage.

His eye flickered over the Maester’s shoulder. “How is she?”

“She’s in good health. She has defeated The Stranger.”

Aemond gave a small smirk. “You did well, Maester. At least I don’t have to kill those who harm the young woman.”

“It would be unwise to pose a threat for the Greens, my prince.”

Aemond had his hand behind his back. “I couldn’t care less of what the common people think of my duty.”

“That you do, my prince.”

Aemond gave the Maester small pouch with five coins for keeping his word, and make his way to your repose body, wearing the strange attire, which it struck an intriguing notion to him. Aside from your appearance, what caught his sight more is your visage and your long locks splayed across the table you laid on, Aemond pressed his fingers and traced the soft line of your face, the smoothness of your face.

Candle light flickered, it casted soft glow onto your features. Lifting your shirt, it revealed the greenish color of the poison faded as for the fresh wounds has been stitched.

Aemond’s hand ached to linger his touch on your flesh. Without so much doubting, his fingers traced over the lines of your waist. Hearing you moan, Aemond’s lips curled upward.

“I shall be taking my leave. Tell the servant to bring a spare attire for her,” he told the Maester, lifting you up in his arms and left the room, walking to a staircase and settled you down to one of the spare rooms. If his family rejected his idea of you staying, he’d rather annihilate King’s Landing than to put you into one of the servant quarters. He found a perfect spot for you to lay rest.

Resting you down on a bed with washed sheets, he dragged a spare chair and sat beside you. Aemond couldn’t restraint his smile at your sleeping figure. Despite it all, he was thankful.

He should have been sleeping in his own chambers, but curiosity lead him awake.

The servant entered with a nightgown and handed it over to the dragon prince. Shivering from the cold, Aemond discerned of your body devoid of blanket.

“She’s cold,” Aemond told the servant. “Fetch her warm blanket.”

As the servant dismissed herself, obliging.

Aemond, without a shred of single doubt, is intrigued with you. While the servant is gone, he resumed tracing his hands and fingertips onto your body.

Moaning, your body shifted on the side, which caused him to chuckle and reverted you back to the former position. A soft hum rumbled into his throat, studying you further, his hand hand splayed over the lines of your exposed thigh, slithered back up to your waistline, cupping your breast while the undergarment is intact. Seeing your chest heaving, it coaxed him to further his touch, smoothing again with your waistline, then up onto the back of your neck, smoothing your cheek with his thumb as he smiled adoringly.

He placed his hand afar when servant returned with a wooly sheet and placed it over onto the foot of the bed.

Aemond then stopped the servant; the girl’s eyes gleamed with fright. “Don’t let her wander out from her chambers; she needs few days of rest. It’d be unwise if she puts herself into harm’s way again. She can stroll through the gardens and the training yard as long as she watched afar.”

The servant could only nod then departed to rest in her own quarters.

Alone again, Aemond unfolded the sleeping wear and had you sat up, your long locks veiled most of your naked figure, though choked when he spotted red outlined marks on your arms. With precision, Aemond had your strange attire remove and exchange with new ones. Laying you down, he undo your tennis skirt and pulled downward, he spotted the red dragon on your whole leg and a pair of thin and pink material clad your womanhood.

Licking his lips, he smoothed the linen of your nightgown, shielding your legs and awaited for the maid to return.

When the maid has been summoned upon the demands of a prince, Aemond handed your attire over to a trembled servant, requesting for a good wash.

“I trust you tended to her needs whenever she desires and not utter a word to my family regarding to my requests or my doings,” he stated.

“No, my prince,” she said.

“Should you utter, I’ll feed your corpse to Vhagar,” he growled.

Aemond could only gaze upon her meek stance and parted away into the room anew and stayed, eyeing you. Shifting onto your bed, particularly your legs from sliding down with a soft stretch, Aemond couldn’t keep his hands apart. His mind plagued with other ideas. But held them off and left your chambers after looking at you one last time.

~your dream~

The sudden chill on your body has left with warmth and comforted with safety, not with the sheets of think blanket, but rather in the arms of a strong man. In the void of your dreams, you spotted long locks of silver-gold shining like golden halo as the blue eye behold with a sapphire stone on the other eye.

“My beloved star,” his voice echoed.

~Your POV~

Your drowsy body lurched, resulting your stomach and stitches twinged in exasperating pain, hissing.

“My lady, you should be careful with your wounds,” the servant girl said.

Hand over your head, your tousled hair tainted the pillows you slept on with black sand sticking onto your head.

“Oh, I stained the pillow,” you said. “I’m so sorry, I’ll wash it.”

Before you had a chance of disarding the pillow case, the servant girl halted you. “I shall take of it, my lady.”

Remembering where you’re at, you surrendered; the wounds you endured is another battle.

The servant carried the bowl with porridge, lifting the spoon and approached close to your mouth, you said, “I never like porridge.”

Shocked, the servant insisted with, “You must, it’s good for the wound.”

“As much I would like to, I’d rather eat something else, if you don’t mind,” you insisted.

She settled the bowl down. “What do you wish to have at this moment, my lady?”

“Ham, bread and cheese,” you requested. “A hot cup of tea. If it’s required for me to eat porridge, then I’ll do it.”

The servant rose onto her feet with a smile. “I’ll fetch your food right away, my lady.”

“Thank you,” you said.

“Anything else, my lady?” she anticipated.

“A bath,” you said, cheeks flushed as your head lowered, hidden in shame.

The servant bowed and calmly shut the door.

Your head plopped back down on the tainted pillows, not for long. The morning weather has simmered with sunlight. Abiding for your meal, you lounged, idling and contemplating.

From a modern world, jumping back to centuries past is one thing, but in a fictional world is another. In order to see another day, you must play the game.

You’re startled at the sound of a knock from the door in your contemplation. It was rather quick.

The servant returned, gladly served the meal on the round table and quitted the chambers, as you consumed every single piece of the breakfast portion. Once you’re finished, you propped the tray on the desk, and as you grabbed a cup of tea, the parchment fell down onto your lap.

Breaking the seal, the parchment wrote in few words.

Beauty is not when a soul finds when awake, rather in sleep.

Your heart raced, though slowed when it has no name—not knowing what the letter meant.

But for some reason, you feel as if you’re being watched.

In solace, your servant returned with new dress and shoes for you, and prepared a steaming bath on the room next door with smoke materializing.

“The bath is ready,” she notified.

Undo your nightgown and undergarments, you hopped into the bathtub, soaked with bubbles and rose scented bar soap with a new bottle contained in liquid substance like jelly—the Maester created hair cleanser for hair like yours—muddy and greasy. And so, while the servant assisted you, scrubbing your hair, you lathered yourself with bar soap, washing off the black sands from Blackwater Bay at the Dragonstone. By the time you’re done rinsing and drying yourself, she wore the dress over your head. While you’re combing your hair, she tied the corset around you and then gestured your feet to insert into the shoes. Last but certainly not least, she clasped the golden necklace on you at the vanity mirror.

For a moment, the self-conscious in you dwindled, for you have seen yourself in a mirror, filled with new life striving.

Another knock came in. You answered, revealing the Maester with medicinal items in hand and greeted you “Good morrow.” After a short exchange of words, you let him in, and allowed him to inspect your wounds and delivered you the milk of the poppy, then made a further inspection of your new wounds and the poison in your belly. In the end, the maester is relieved.

Another knock came in for the third time. Revealed Ser Criston Cole swung the chamber door open, following Queen Alicent. The servant already left once she gathered the soiled sheets before the arrival of the maester and the Greens.

“Your Grace,” the Maester bowed, though you didn’t have time to curtsy because the characters you’ve seen on the show are brought to life.

Overwhelmed, you curtsied though as if you’re suffocating with elation.

Queen Alicent gazed at you before the Maester.

“How is she fairing, Maester?”

“The wounds on her flesh are still new. But with her withstand to harm is astounding; and yet she’s able to move with agility and ease.”

Queen Alicent darted her eyes on you, from head to your shoes. “How are you fairing, sweet girl?”

Your mouth opened, stuttered. “I’m doing perfectly okay, Your Grace.”

Alicent grinned. “Wonderful. I hope King’s Landing doesn’t settle disagreement in your heart,” she said.

“No,” you replied, shaking your head. “I’m not offended. Not in the least.”

Queen Alicent examined you. With your cleansed appearance, she finds herself genuinely smiling again.

“What is your name, sweet girl?”

“Name’s (y/n), Your Grace,” you said in a somber smile, drowsy during the massive effect of Milk of the Poppy.

Alicent seems pleased with your introduction. “A pleasure. Rhaenyra’s right. You are beautiful.” Then her face turned grave. “As much as we idle our conversation, you must be prepared with your answers with the Blacks. You protected their heir, just as you rescued my daughter, what’s more is your capabilities, so brace yourself. I shall be heading to the council with the others. Ser Marrow will escort you to the council room once you’re done meeting with the Maester.”

You nodded. “Alright.”

“I shall see you there.” Queen Alicent left without a word as Ser Criston followed.

After done conversing with the Maester, you thanked him as he left your quarters.

Dabbing your lips with lipstick, you ushered yourself to meet Ser Marrow. But instead of a greeting, he struck a blow on your belly and the side of your cheekbone with his gauntlet not once but seven times, bruising your lips and nose, and blindfolded you with a golden fabric.

“You should’ve stayed dead, you whore,” he said, then dragged you down at the council.

~Aemond's POV~

It was a clear message when Alicent told Aemond that she had an important council meeting up the high floor. Meaning, no heir is allowed to enter unless the heir becomes King or Queen. Disregarding of his mother's words, Aemond found his way through the secret passage again, peering through the carved hole, as he flicked his gaze, spotting Alicent and Criston, chatting, while the rest were still on a most gossiped subject that lasted in recent days--the green star.

"Looking for someone," a voice said.

Aemond looked over to his brother, Aegon, who was drinking red wine in a heavy goblet.

"You shouldn't be here, brother," he said.

"Neither should you," Aegon said. "Besides, you didn't answer my question."

Aemond ignored him and listened to Alicent's conversation.

“Where could she have gone? Did the guard lead her onto the wrong room?” Alicent agitated.

“She’ll be here soon,” Ser Criston assured her, watching the Blacks interacting.

Their talk has cut through the air when the double doors boomed, startling the Blacks and Green; with you in his hand, keeping you standing, bleeding as your dress tattered, and your nostrils bloodied, eyes shielded with blindfold, and your hands tied on the back.

“Here’s the whore you wanted,” Ser Marrow seethed to the Greens, casted you down with splat.

Your head raised and studied the environment—the council room. But you took noticed of the Blacks and Greens’s faces, are all unexpectedly mortified of your bruised appearance and the guard’s sudden outburst.

In the land of Westeros, a girl from a modern century has entered into the House of the Dragons.

Taglist: @galactict3a @daonenonlysandman @toodlesxcuddles @hufflepuff1700 @colored-tr-panels @valeskafics

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miss-dollette · 8 months ago

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Wake up call for ballistic Team Black and Rhaenyra Stan’s.

TW: Opinions and bad language.

Rhaenyra “rules for thee, none for me” Targaryen. Rhaenyra “Aegon wants to usurp my throne” but when it comes to my obvious bastard sons… nah, they’ll get this land and titles because they’re trueee Valeryeon’s (meanwhile, there’s actual Valeryeon’s who’d step up to the mantle but can’t ’cause Rhaenyra’s daddy is a fucking moron who doomed his family).

Whether Rhaenyra Stan’s want to admit it or not, Rhaenyra is a hypocrite and makes some of the most dumbest mistakes because of how spoiled and shortsighted she is. She doesn’t seem to care about consequences and constantly reaps what she sows.

She had a choice in marriage to any lord in the kingdom, which would have been a massive political advantage, but she blew it and had to marry a guy who wasn’t even straight. Not only that, she had a choice in having three bastard kids. Westeros literally has forms of birth control that she could’ve had at any moment. But noooo. Rhaenyra didn’t think ”hmm having kids with someone I’m not married to will have massive consequences and would essentially arm my enemies with more ammo on why I shouldn’t have the throne. I live in a culture that’s horribly misogynistic and everyone already doubts me because I was born with a vagina. But I’ll have two more kids even though they’ll be targeted the rest of their lives.”

What a top mind you have, Rhaenyra!

Ooooh, and i hate when she was like “now they see as you are”, bitch, what? “Now they see you as you are” - you mean a woman trying to get justice for her bullied child, who was now maimed by one of his bullies? Omg, can you imagine what Rhaenyra would have done if Jace had been the one to have his eye removed? And Viserys would have 100% let her. Matter of fact, he would have encouraged it.

I think at that moment, Alicent knew her children’s lives were in danger. Even if she hadn’t done anything at that point, besides essentially being the perfect queen and somewhat bad mother (who’s a perfect mom when you’re forced to marry and have kids before you’re even 18), her rightfully royal children were in sooo much danger, and it was proven at that moment.

And Daemyra is so god damn mf stupid. Daemon. Is. Loyal. To. Himself. And. Ceraxes. Rhaenyra is essentially a tool to put his blood (and himself) on the throne, and that’s pretty much it. He’s a complete psychopath, pedophile, and power hungry. Just because he treats her well sometimes, doesn’t mean he’s not the same Daemon who killed his last wife.

Every Rhaenyra Stan is like “Rhaenyra would never let anything happen to Alicent and her kids :)” but let’s be so fucking fr right now - Daemon would definitely kill them. Why the fuck would he ever let Otto Hightower’s kid, grandkids and great grandkids live, and even have the slightest chance against him? And Rhaenyra would let him. He literally choked her, and she’s the heir to the throne and he faced ZERO real consequences for that.

Okay, so hypothetically, let’s say Rhaenyra wins the throne, and all the Greens are dead. No one is that much of a threat to Targaryen rule, and Rhaenyra is to become queen officially. Daemon is king. Daemon. Is. King. And they still live in Misogynistic ass Westeros, and Rhaenyra is still a woman. You know how easily Daemon could just pull a “Give me that crown, everyone wants a king anyway and they’ll obey me ‘cause I’ll fucking kill them with my giant ballistic Lizard like I’ve always done, but now I have a massive military who is also fucking misogynistic. You’ll have my heirs and that’s it. Thanks Rhaenyra!”?

Rhaenyra would never let Daemon go. She needs him. Even she said it. So what would she do if he wanted the throne? Nothing. He’d kill her if she fought against him. Mr. Daemon “I murdered my first wife to get what I want” Targaryen.

And before anyone calls me a misogynistic team green or whatever, no I’m not Team Green, I’m just tired of how Rhaenyra Stan’s pretend she’s some sort of saint and the perfect character. If this doesn’t apply to you, don’t bother with lecturing me.

Rhaenyra is not Daenerys, and never will be. Just because they’re both girls and aspire for the throne, doesn’t make it a #girlboss moment. Rhaenyra wants to continue Targaryen supremacy and rule over the small folk just like her ancestors before her. She’s a super spoiled brat who doesn’t care about anyone’s pain, and wants to use everyone else as her pawns. So, more like Cersei than Daeny.

Is Rhaenyra someone completely evil? No, but she’s a huge idiot.

Also, I do sympathize for both sides, but Rhaenyra and her fans just make me want to rip my hair off.

I wrote this in 20 fucking minutes so pls don’t get on my ass about spelling errors. Bye.

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justrainandcoffee · 2 months ago

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"You have a daughter," Lord Stark said to Lord Tyrell "I have a son..."

Masterlist

House: Tyrell.

Location: Highgarden, the Reach. Westeros.

Sigil and heraldry: A golden rose on a green field. “Growing strong”

Religion: Faith of the Seven.

Year of birth: 88 AC (After Aegon's conquest)

Inside Highgarden's walls, there's the most valuable flower the Tyrells have.

Firstborn from the union between the head of the House, Samuel Tyrell, and Mary Serry, from the Shield Islands also in the Reach. Eldest sister of Samuel Tyrell II and Louis Tyrell I.

Rose Tyrell was educated to be one day the wife of a powerful lord as her father is. And as such, she accepted her fate, because after all it was her duty and her destiny was sealed when Lord Stark and her father decided to join both houses when their respective children were old enough to get married.

But no one told the rose from Highgarden, that at the age of 12 was going to meet the heir of Storm's end: Alfred Baratheon. And let alone, no one told her that he was going to fell in love with him few years later.

House: Stark.

Location: Winterfell, the North. Westeros.

Sigil and heraldry: a gray wolf. “Winter is coming”

Religion: Faith of the Seven.

Year of birth: 88 AC.

James Stark is the second son of the tyrant Jared Stark I, reigning the North. His older brother, Jared II was sent to the Wall for dishonouring the family.

The duties that should be done by his brother now are in his shoulder. The arrange marriage that it should have been between Jared II and Lady Tyrell now it belong to him.

And without options, he's going to be the man that will join the North with the Reach.

If everything goes well...

House: Baratheon.

Location: Storm's end, Stormlands. Westeros.

Sigil and heraldry: A stag standing on two legs. “Ours the fury”

Religion: Faith of the seven

Year of birth: 88 AC.

Alfred Baratheon is the only child the Lord of Stormlands has and his heir.

At the age of 12, he was sent to Highgarden to be fostered by Lord Tyrell and trained there, in the lands famous to have fearless knights.

No one predicted that he could fall in love with lady Tyrell not many years after he went there. What started as a childhood friendship grew to be a romance between them. So strong that Alfred Baratheon was ready to fight the entire North for her.

Especially after the night, the rose of Highgarden offered her virginity to him.

This is the concept of the story that God knows if going to see the light some day. Yet, it helped with the hype.

@mischievouslittlecreature @call-sign-shark @peakyswritings @evita-shelby

#alfie x rose #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x ofc #alfie solomons x oc #game of thrones au #peaky blinders #alternate universe #my oc

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alicentflorent · 6 months ago

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I think Alicent knows no one would be able to control Aemond. Or as she said to Rhaenys guide him. I even heard someone saying Aemond would kick her out of the council in episode 6 or 7 and Cole would have to choose between her and Aemond. He will choose Alicent and they'll go to crownlands together. Later she'll go to Oldtown to reunite with Daeron. Do you tthink this is possible?

I agree. Ever since Aemond killed Lucerys I think she sees a darkness in him. For the longest time she saw him as the dutiful son, the son who she would rely on for emotional support that his darker nature probably went unnoticed by alicent because he was fulfilling his role in the family. What the show fails to include is that kinslaying is considered the worst possible crime you can commit in Westeros and when Aemond killed his nephew he became a kinslayer. it's actually kind of crazy that no one on the council took issue with Aemond being a kinslayer.

I read some leaks that said that is where her story is heading too. Although what I read said he kicks her out of the red keep - which would be more in character for alicent because no way would she just leave Helaena (unless she tries to get Helaena to leave but Helaena sides with Aemond?) and despite what some people think, she wouldn't just abandon Aegon in critical condition when she suspects Aemond of being the cause. I'm hoping this is true though because they clearly don't know what to do with her at court and if done right this could be an interesting storyline where we get to see alicent outside of her castle/prison, away from her children and eventually going to join Daeron and guiding him in a Robb and Catelyn kind of storyline. There were shots in the trailer of her standing by a lake and walking through a field so I'm inclined to believe it's true.

I think it'll be interesting if she isn't in KL when it is taken because she will assume Aegon is dead and she will know Helaena is a hostage who could be going through hell and be punished at any time for the greens crimes against Rhaenyra. I don't know if I trust Condal to not have Alicent as a hostage and instead getting a Catelyn style plot though. Oh and another thing I read was Larys will be Aegon's only visitor when Alicent leaves which could have Aegon believing Alicent, Criston etc were all plotting against him, which would make for an interesting plot.

#Helaena and alicent get attacked by a mob next episode too so it'll be interesting to see how it all fits together #house of the dragon #alicent hightower #team green #hotd #hotd spoilers

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goodqueenaly · 2 years ago

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I wanted to appreciate a few aspects of Aegon III’s life and personality that feel reflected or paralleled in the life and personality of his son Baelor.

For one, Gyldayn makes a very brief mention that “[a]s a man grown, [Aegon III] … was known to wear a hair shirt under the velvets and satins required of a king”. We know virtually nothing about Aegon III’s personal piety, but it is at least possible that during his adult years the king undertook this sign of self-mortification, usually (and certainly in Westeros) associated with religious repentance, because he sought to contextualize the terrible calamities of his life in the Faith of the Seven. Perhaps the king, who had witnessed and endured so much terrible loss during his childhood, wanted to personally repent for what he might have seen as the sins of his family and/or the realm (compare, say, my suggestions on Alysanne Osgrey potentially having done the same if she voluntarily chose to join the silent sisters). The selfish ambitions of both black and green factions, resulting in the chaos and destruction of the Dance for both House Targaryen and (perhaps even more importantly, in the king's mind) the people of Westeros, were, so Aegon III might have seen them, national tragedies for which he, as king of that nation, would offer himself as a sort of sacrificial victim. Maybe Aegon decided that he would suffer, regularly and personally, so that his people would never suffer; if their king undertook this penance, he would perhaps be that much less likely to forget the suffering his own family had caused them.

We do not know at this point whether Baelor himself specifically wore a hair shirt, although I certainly would not be surprised if GRRM reveals as much in the future: after all, Lancel Lannister, who himself has venerated the memory of Blessed Baelor (and whose marriage to Amerei Frey broadly mirrors Baelor’s marriage to Daena Targaryen) had as of AFFC taken to wearing a hair shirt. Even if he did not do so, however, Baelor used other means of self-mortification as demonstrations of his devotion and humility. Indeed, his journey to Dorne served as a sort of personal repentance for what Baelor seems to have seen as the sins of Daeron’s war in Dorne: by walking barefoot, clad only in sackcloth, Baelor subjected himself to physical pain and deprivation explicitly as (so Yandel quotes him) an “act of piety” in suing for peace. Likewise, during his reign, Baelor engaged in penitent fasts, depriving himself of all but the barest amount of bread and water in contrition for both his own sinful feelings and broader events he regretted: his apparent lusts, the short-lived twins born to his cousin Naerys, and the birth of Daemon Waters to his sister Daena. By physically harming himself almost to the point of death (and - ostensibly - actually, in the end), Baelor seems to have wished to repent for what he believed were the sinful natures of not just himself but also the wider world (including other Targaryens), much as his father may have wanted to use the wearing of a hair shirt to atone for the chaos and destruction of the Dance and the associated guilt of House Targaryen.

Gyldayn also notes that during the Winter Fever, the young King Aegon III “spent his days visiting the sick, and often sat with them for hours, sometimes holding their hands in his own, or soothing their fevered brows with cool, damp cloths”. While Aegon's Kingsguard were apparently horrified by the king’s willingness to visit the sick and physically interact with them, those who survived the infection reportedly praised the king’s “healing hands” as the explanation for their survival. Aegon III may have believed in the “magic in a king’s touch” which Gyldayn relates as a smallfolk superstition, or the supposed Targaryen disease resistance/immunity (which, for the record, I think is in practice bullshit, but that’s mostly beside the point), but his actions objectively demonstrated a true courage on Aegon’s part. That the Winter Fever had already proven devastating by the time Aegon III began his visits to the sick was clear: this was a disease which had wiped out half the population of Sisterton, struck down thousands in White Harbor, Gulltown, Maidenpool, and Duskendale, and reportedly killed three quarters of those infected. Yet Aegon III did not apparently hesitate to go personally to the bedsides of the infected and dying, and not merely as a passive observer either. By himself holding their hands, wiping their brows, and allowing the sick the opportunity to have someone to speak to during a time of mandated isolation and fear (no less a person than the king himself, in fact), Aegon underlined his resolve to serve his people, no matter their rank or status. No king was so great, Aegon III may have wanted to show, that he could not put himself at the service of the least of his people; he had been made king not to glory in the throne but to use his power for the benefit of those he ruled.

Aegon III’s personal devotion to the sick, crossing the divide of rank, reminds me of a very brief allusion to an action taken by Baelor the Blessed. In “Davos IV” ASOS, after Stannis astounds Axell Florent by stating his intent to hear Davos’ opinion on his, Axell’s, planned attack against Claw Isle, Davos compares Axell’s reaction to “the look that proud Lord Belgrave must have worn, the day King Baelor the Blessed had commanded him to wash the beggar's ulcerous feet”. Given Baelor’s dedication to characteristic expressions of charity for the benefit of his poorest subjects - Yandel describing how Baelor “emptied the treasury regularly to fund his charitable acts, including the year when he donated a loaf of bread daily to every man and woman in the city” - Baelor may have decided to take matters a step farther, literally serving his subjects by washing the feet of the poor. Likewise, given Davos’ description of that Lord Belgrave as “proud”, it may have been the case (and not mutually exclusively with the prior thought) that Baelor specifically ordered this lord to wash a beggar’s feet to teach him, Belgrave, the same humility and commitment to (what Baelor saw as) the service of the poor as he, Baelor, professed. Just as Stannis had summarily humbled Ser Axell by promoting the worth of a smallfolk (or, at least, about as close as the series ever gets in its POV characters), so Baelor, it appears, wanted to humble Lord Belgrave by reminding him that even the greatest in the land could and should recognize the worth of the least, as represented by that beggar. (It perhaps goes without saying that, as GRRM has already explicitly cited Jesus as inspiration for the appearance of Baelor, so the author may also have been thinking about the Gospel account of Jesus washing the feet of the Apostles at the Last Supper for inspiration for this moment, as well as the royal practice of this rite on Maundy Thursday in, for example, any number of European monarchies.)

Whatever the specific context of this moment, I see again certain parallels between Baelor and Aegon III. Just as Aegon III would define his reign as one of service to his subjects - disdaining elaborate crowns in favor of a simple gold band, and promising not feasts and progresses but “full bellies and dancing bears” - so Baelor may have had that same desire to place the needs of his people first and foremost. As Aegon III had proven that being king required the readiness, even eagerness to care for one’s subjects on a personal, indeed intimate level, so Baelor may have wanted to emphasize that neither he nor any of his aristocrats could rest on their feudal privileges when faced with the miseries of the poor. The beggar afflicted with those “ulcerous feet” deserved, so I think Baelor believed, as much aid and compassion as did those infected with the Winter Fever during Aegon III’s reign, whom his father had so selflessly tended. These were the crown’s people, and they were suffering; it was, consequently, the crown’s responsibility, father and son may have agreed, to ease their sufferings as much as possible, either by the king doing so himself or (and again, perhaps not mutually exclusively) ordering his vassals to do the same.

What I like about both of these examples is the way GRRM has the opportunity, as he continues to write about this period, to compare father and son and draw parallels between them. While on the surface Aegon III and Baelor may not appear particularly similar - and while their respective styles and philosophies of rule demonstrated pretty stark differences from one another - they are not entirely different personalities either. Baelor the septon-king did not emerge from a vacuum; he spent the first roughly 13 years of his life as the son of King Aegon III, who had himself been king for a decade by the time Baelor was born. As GRRM has so brilliantly discussed father-son relationships throughout his Westerosi works (see, for example, in “The Mystery Knight”), so I hope he uses Aegon III and Baelor as another chance to connect seemingly very disparate monarchs in paternal-filial influence.

#asoiaf meta #aegon iii targaryen #baelor i targaryen

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pessimisticpigeonsworld · 11 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/rise-my-angel/740720343328686080/the-new-hotd-trailer-has-reminded-me-how-badly?source=share.

1. Jaehaera was not raped...

2. Rhaenyra was having a breakdown on Dragonstone after learning about Luke's death when she received Daemon's letter stating that he would avenge Luke (the letter doesn't even explain how he would avenge Luke). How is that her fault?

3. Aegon is also a rapist in the books, it's not an invention by the writers.

"Who are you?" [Helaena] demanded of the two. "Debt collectors," said Cheese. "An eye for an eye, a son for a son. We only want the one, t' square things. Won't hurt the rest o' you fine folks, not one lil' hair. Which one to you want t' lose Your Grace?" Cheese warned the queen to make a choice soon, before Blood grew bored and raped her little girl. Strange to say, the ratcatcher and the butcher were true to their word. They did no further harm to Queen Helaena and her surviving children. (Fire and Blood: The Dying of the Dragons - A Son for a Son)

You're right anon, Jaehaera was never raped, it was only threatened to hurry Helaena along. I don't understand why TG stans want to add to this event so badly, it's already horrific. It's actions like that which show how GRRM is once again choosing to have morally gray protagonists. TB is in the right about the Dance and who they're supporting, but that doesn't mean their heroes or even morally good in their actions.

It's interesting how op decided to complain that Aegon might be portrayed as incompetent. Aegon was incompetent in the book, so incompetent he was murdered by his own supporters. He's remembered as being one of the most useless kings of Westeros. Saying they're going to dumb him down to make Rhaenyra look better shows how op has never read the book, or even Aegon's wiki lmao.

Further proving my point is the stupidly blind argument of how Aegon "isn't a rapist in the book". The delusion of the TG stans is neverending.

I think the most incredible take in this post is how apparently, in the eyes of op, Criston isn't an incel in season one?? Did we watch the same show? Criston makes the immediate turn to hating Rhaenyra and literally killing people associated with her family after she rejects him. He makes hating her his entire personality for the whole ass show once she refuses to run away with him. He thinks he's entitled to Rhaenyra's entire life and body just because she slept with him once. He's the definition of an incel, go cry about it greenies.

B&C was done without Rhaenyra's knowledge or approval, as you said. Daemon acted on his own (he is a true gray character). She was separated from Daemon when he made his choice, so she had even less control over what he did. Added to that is how Rhaenyra was busy with other fronts of the war and negotiating, how can she be expected to micromanage her husband?

Now, while the original post was written I think before Condal started teasing the whole "people will want to switch sides", the reblog definitely wasn't. Condal has revealed that he plans to make the audience sympathize with the greens more this season. Which is why it makes no sense why the poster who reblogged believes they will make the greens appear worse. They're already making excuses for Aegon raping serving girls, trying to make Alicent be completely innocent of her team's actions, and making Aemond "accidentally" kill Luke.

The show is already so obviously TG, they even aged up Rhaenyra and aged down Alicent to control who the audience sympathizes with. TG stans are just bitter that even the intense white washing can't cover up how in the wrong TG is.

Alicent is totally at least partially to blame for B&C. In the book, she was the head of the green faction and constantly plotted to usurp Rhaenyra, thus causing the war. In both the show and the book, Alicent raised her children to view their nephews as subhuman. She instilled the hatred of them into Aemond long before the Driftmark incident. She's the one who constantly affirmed to them that Aegon is the rightful heir and Rhaenyra is a murderous whore. Alicent bears the blame for what happened to her family just as much as Aegon, Otto, and Aemond.

#anti team green stans #anti team green #anti alicent hightower #anti aegon ii targaryen #team black #house of the dragon #anti ryan condal #rhaenyra targaryen #asoiaf #anti criston cole #daemon targeryan #blood and cheese

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thecountesstribe · 7 months ago

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HOTD SEASON 2X4 SPOILERS AND REACTIONS.

Babies we got our asses kicked today huh??!

I knew it was coming, I knew but that doesn't make it hurt less. As a matter of fact it hurts worse because I loved book Rhaenys and sure they changed and butchered her character somewhat in the show but that was Grandma and I loved her. I need Vhagar and Aemond dead bro. I'm not even playing I'm wishing for their downfall so hard right now. Rhaenys Targaryen was one of the greatest women in Westeros to ever live and stamp that. I'm not ready for the reactions of her family when they find out about her death. Baela, Rhaena, Jace, Corlys, Rhaenyra and the others just recently lost Luke and to lose her so soon after. I'll be sick. Her relationship with Meleys was so special to me. Meleys looking back at her for the first time during the episode and then taking her last look at her for the final time, I was in tears. I'll never get over this hurt. Her face when she realized that she wasn't going back home with Meleys and the fall 💔💔💔. I am not okay, I'm not okay. Rest in peace to them both.

Sunfyre I'm sorry you had that halfwit who barely knows his mother tongue for a rider even though that little nudge you gave him was actually super duper cute. Another one of my babies. Y'all don't think they rewrote the story to kill off Sunfyre because in the trailer for episode 5, Sunfyre wasn't shown.

Aemond I hate you! Living up to that kinslayer moniker. So we intentionally see him burn both his brother (honestly fuckin deserved and about time) and his dragon. Wonder how this is gonna play out, they better not give Aemond Baela's story arc. I'm so fuckin serious. That's it. I wanna fight.

Rhaenyra coming home to a tongue lashing was so satisfying. Jacaerys was fed up y'hear me. He was done. Her telling him about the song of fire and ice just like Vizzy T did for her warmed me a little.

Criston Cole shut the fuck up challenge. It happened years ago, it's time to let that hurt go. They let that old man read him for filth and spit on him just for me.

Alicent being potentially pregnant and having to take medieval plan b or is it medieval abortion medication is so funny to me. I wonder how crybaby Cole would take the news of her potentially getting rid of the child? It's gonna be a mess.

Jacaerys was angry this entire episode and I don't blame him. Why in a room full of adults with battle experience/tactics for the war to come does he and Baela have to act like the adults. On top of that his queen, the one who they're fighting for is just taking unnecessary stupid risks and not thinking like a leader. I'd be irritated asf too. The black council aside from a selected few are just a bunch of bickering childish idiots. Both him and Baela were tired. Baela and him stepping up and leading the council was so good. They literally fed us what could've been had they had a chance to rule. Westeros was robbed. Baela proving she's just as worthy as Jace is just *chefs kiss. One thing I could say about my boy is that he knows Baela could hold her own, she's proved it but he will never ever under any circumstances let anybody feel that they could dismiss her or disrespect her. Him letting that one goof know it's because of her they have actual information on some of the greens army and acknowledging her contributions, yeah they would've been both sat the throne. Ain't nothing like she's just a queen's consort with no power. They would've been co rulers fr. Him comforting her publicly when they brought up Daemon in front of the council no less, like he doesn't play about her. That's the kinda guy you want to be locked in for life with. Rhaenys looking on in the background was a parallel to the first time they held hands during the funeral and she came up to them and she peeped the same thing she peeped then. I know she knew that Baela was in great hands. 😭😭😭 Never beating the best couple in Westeros allegations.

They black council talking about Daemon probably having an orgy LMAOO, he's getting fucked alright. That man has not had one moment of peace since he stepped foot in spooky town and it's what he deserves. Laena being beautiful and haunting his ass, period boo and baby Rhaenyra wearing older Rhaenyra's clothes and the crown that was too big for her tiny head (symbolizing it was/is a burden) and tormenting him. Yeah I'm gonna have that on repeat.

Rhaenys already knowing Adam and Alyn are Corlys children before flying to her death and her informing him and that sweet scene with Alyn, I think she learned her lesson after the whole debacle with Laenor and his boys. That's growth. Wish we could've had more of that development on screen but what can we do.

It was honestly a solid episode. I'm exhausted this was probably a review too long and if you stuck around till the end thanks for reading my thoughts ❤️. Sunfyre, Meleys and Rhaenys didn't deserve that. Sending hugs.

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mesillusionssousecstasy · 7 months ago

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House of the Dragon 2x02: Review

The opening music was incredible! The violin's note untenable.

Poor Viserys' model of Valyria.

Aegon is gone literally crazy, or more like a child throwing a tantrum.

Poor Helaena! So innocente!

Everything was made for every details, going as far as the horses' armour.

The greens are fucking hypocrite, when they have inflicted the same to Jace.

Aille Aille Daemon what have you done? Sorry Daemon is the most hilarious character ever.

To my opinion, Daemon is best the character in the ASOIAF universe. Also, he truly loves his wife.

I didn't like Rhaenyra's opinion thrown at Daemon. She was acting like a hypocrite. She well knew what she said in this council room in front of Daemon. Also, how can she not believe her husband. She knows him since when she was a child.

But the scene between the two of them was incredible. So well done.

I don't understand Rhaenyra doesn't know that Daemon is one of her best sword so far.

I love the room in Dragonstone. Everything is in the detail. But I don't understand Rhaenyra change rooms? She a beautiful balcony last season.

The music is truly beautiful.

Again poor Helaena with her deranged family. Nevertheless, I was expecting another prophecy coming from her.

(Ser) Criston Cole is such a hypocrite, the biggest of Westeros.

Big foreshadowing : the two future Kings of Westeros.

Ser Criston Cole saying to Alicent : "What do you take me for?" Alicent should have replied : "My bitch!"

Biggest hypocrite of the series.

Ser Criston Cole is also a fucking bastard. There is nothing glorious about that.

I wasn't expecting Aemond in a brother, more likely in his sister's bed. Very strange scene (WTF?). Maybe to show us, that Aemond is still a boy compared to Daemon?

I liked that they show a bit of small folks, the normal people.

Why the score is important?

The landscape at the beach was beautiful.

Fortunately the dog is still alive and well (poor doggy).

When Otto entered the room, at first I thought it was because of Visery's model.

"My grandson is a fool" : Otto finally realising what he has done! The truth of the situation. Quelle bande d'incapable et de bras cassés.

Poor Otto. Him who thought he had done what was good for the country. He has finally realised what terrible mistake he has made.

When Otto said to Aegon, "You will regret this" : I believe those words to be true.

I like the terrible twin twist. Poor Erryk.

Big news, Daeron is alive.

Why Otto do not want to hear that Alicent has sinned?

Rhaenyra doesn't learn from her mistake.

Youth against mature people.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon 2x02 #hotd #hotd 2x02 #hotd season 2 #hotd thoughts #house of the dragon thoughts #dae #daemon #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #criston cole #ser erryk cargyll #ser arryk cargyll #erryk x arryk #thoughts

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theoldpersonliveshere · 9 months ago

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“Eternal happiness clapped in irons // Eternal happiness, mighty strikes”

It was done. It was over. He'd done it. The bastard boy who took his eye was dead. And he had no idea whether to laugh or cry.

He didn't want to return home yet, his mother would yell and his grandfather would thank him. It didn't feel right, it felt cheap, like he cheated at a game. He hadn't meant for it to happen. He just wanted to scare the boy. He couldn't control his dragon, he was a failure.

He turned Vhagar away from King's Landing and headed towards the Riverlands. He needed to see Enith. She was his only friend since childhood and the only one who could comfort him. He had missed her greatly since she left King's Landing to go back to her family home, though he didn't admit it to anyone.

It was night when he arrived at Owl's Hold. The fortress was large with high stone walls that circled around the castle and it's grounds. Aemond landed Vhagar and made his way in. He was immediately let in, it was obvious they saw him coming. It was hard to be discreet when you rode the largest dragon in Westeros.

When he was brought into the castle Enith was already waiting for him. She was in her nightdress and her long red hair was in a braid.

“Prince Aemond, what brings you to Owl's Hold?” Enith was standing tall and straight, trying to convey the image of a proper lady.

“I need to speak to you in private about an urgent matter. Now.” He said sharply. Enith looked nervous but quickly nodded.

“Of course, my prince, follow me.” She led him to her quarters and upon entering he was immediately met with the sound of a wailing child. Enith rushed to a cradle by the fireplace and picked up a small bundle.

“Shh… don’t worry darling, I’m here.” Enith cooed lovingly. Aemond watched confused.

“Enith, whose child is that?” he asked

“She’s mine,” Enith said as if it was obvious. Aemonds fist clenched in anger. Had she had a lover this whole time? Her imbecile husband had no interest in her and had refused to consummate the marriage so it could not have been him.

“And who is the father?” He growled out. Enith gave a laugh and walked forward. Did she find this funny?

“Answer the question.” He ordered. She just smiled and pulled back the blanket from the child’s head revealing tufts of white hair. Aemond looked at the child in awe. She reminded him of his niece and nephew when they were born.

“She's mine?” he whispered.

Enith nodded, almost near tears.

“Does she have a name?”

“Not yet, I was thinking of something Valyrian, but I don't know any.”

The little girl was staring up at Aemond with large green eyes. His heart melted at the sight of her. He needed to be more careful now that he had a child, not as reckless as he was mere hours ago. He needed to protect his love and their daughter. He needed a reminder to control his wrath and his temper.

“Lucerya, her name is Lucerya.”

@hotd-bigbang

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #my oc #pairing: aemond and enith #Enith Palker #aemond targaryen x oc #hotd lyric prompts 24

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kataraavatara · 1 year ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/thought--bubble/734425326135967744/why-are-some-people-so-insanely-aggressive-when-it?source=share

Aegon can get away with things, even with crimes like rape, just because he's a man. Also, the poor children in the fighting pits wouldn't agree that he's the best for the kingdom.

wow! the post you shared was…something!

“Aegon is the first born, true born son of the king. He should be king by birthright. Recognizing that is how westeros works doesn't mean I agree with it. Just that I understand that is how it works.”

How is supporting his usurpation not agreeing with it? “I just understand the way Westeros works” um, did you think George wrote the story with the intent of you seeing the injustice of male supremacy and saying “🤷‍♀️ whelp that’s how things are. people should not change it.”

“he has the council of Otto and Alicent, and regardless of how people feel about them, they successfully ran a peaceful, stable kingdom while viserys was rotting away.”

Otto and Alicent got kicked to the curb as soon as Aegon started feeling a little temperamental.

“his children are true born, and there is no question on that. His sons ascension would not be questioned and most likely would be a peaceful transition of power. (Again, this is better for the people at large)”

Like Rhaenyra says, the only thing strong enough to tear down the house of the dragon is itself. If the Greens don’t throw a bitch fit, no one else is saying shit about King Jacaerys I and Queen Baela Targaryen.

“as scared of his duties as his is, he comes through and performs them. (i.e., has children with heleana, takes a crown he did not want to protect his family)”

Is having children with Helaena supposed to be a different at Rhaenyra not having Laenor’s biological kids? Because Laenor is a gay man? Because arguably both scenarios require one spouse forcing themselves on the other depending on whether you believe Aegon abuses Helaena or not, which I personally do. So we’re applauding Aegon for…*checks notes* Having sex? And that’s great that he (allegedly) stood up when he was convinced his family was in imminent danger, but where was the family man attitude when he was SAing servants, drinking 24/7, and (allegedly) molesting children?

“he is way more likely to take advice and guidance instead of thinking he is right about things all of the time. He has not exhibited Rhaenyra's tendency to weaponize her power in order to get away with shirking tradition and common law. (I.e. Weaponizing the term treason in order to force people to ignore the objective reality of her sons legitimacy)”

Uh, no. While Alicent and Otto were horrified by Luke’s murder, that guy threw a party to celebrate the death of his nephew. Again, this is the man who fired Otto for not being violent enough. Oh, and he hasn’t weaponized his power to get away with shit? What about the serving girls in the Red Keep in the book and Dyana in the show? What about the children in fighting pits?

And “Shirking tradition”?

Well, traditionally, a king should be studious, well read, study arms, keep himself in good physical shape and generally conduct himself in an appropriate way and as the model of chivalry that the rest of the men in the kingdom should emulate. Think of Jaehaerys (for all his flaws), Aemon, Baelon, Baelor Breakspear…Aegon was a pudgy man child who spent his days drinking and assaulting women.

And, when following Common Law, rapists are gelded and sent to the wall.

Rhaenyra’s biggest crime as of this point in being complicit in the death of one man because she feared for her children’s safety and sought an alliance with Daemon. The only other things she’s done wrong is going against a patriarchal medieval society.

Meanwhile, Aegon has raped a woman, all the serving girls at the keep are wary around him, watches children in fighting pits, has bastards and abandons them. Erryk is literally so sickened by his behavior he defects!

It’s very telling that Rhaenyra’s “crimes” of going against Westerosi tradition are seen as worse than Aegon’s actual crimes against the common people.

You’re right, anon. The double standards in this fandom are insane.

#anti team green #rhaenyra targaryen #dance of the dragons #pro rhaenyra #team black #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf

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fl3shm4id3n · 2 years ago

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Can I request a platonic relationship with a Targaryen reader and her dragon somehow ending up in Avatar way of water? She doesn't know how she ended up their, only that she was running away from being married to another. She wants nothing to do with romantic relationships after what she ran from. Both she and the dragon can somehow breathe Pandora's air. How would the Sully family react towards her providing much needed support during a raid that wasn't going well?

Bₗₒₒd ᵢₛₙ'ₜ ₐₗwₐyₛ ₜₕᵢcₖₑᵣ ₜₕₑₙ Wₐₜₑᵣ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐖𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧, 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲.

ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜʟʟʏꜱ x ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ! ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ)

Tw: medieval themes, underage drinking, alcoholism, family drama, running away from home, reader is 19, mentions of child birth, targa!cest mentioned, mentions of dead infants, child neglect, raiding, fire, speaking in another language.

A/N: I hope you didn't mind me using the current time line of HOTD and making the reader be the y/n Targaryen I wrote in the past, I thought it would be a good idea.

Masterlist

All your life you were unhappy, due to your mother's neglect and your father's absence, you had no one. Well you had your siblings, but they were all busy with their duties, meanwhile you'd be drinking goblets of wine with your brother Aegon. He had showed you that drinking can wash away your sorrows and he was right, you'd forget about your problems and just drink until you'd finish a whole barrel of wine.

That was until you had become of age, you still kept drinking and didn't bother looking for a husband, you hated the idea of marriage, you had lost interest in having a romantic relationship. All you cared about was drinking. Then your mother had arranged a marriage between you and some lord from who knows where. You protested that you did not wish to marry some man and bare his children, you were livid, but your mother and grandsire did not listen, you were to be married and that was final.

You were not going to stand by and let those who had ignored you for years control your life. That night you snuck away into the dragon pit and left with Bloodfyre. You could of left to Dragon Stone with your sister but no, you didn't want to give her any more trouble. That whole night you flew your dragon, letting him take you where ever, just as far away as possible from Westeros.

That while night you couldn't sleep, you were still processing on what you had done. You ran away from home, leaving Helaena, Aegon, Dearon, Aemond and Rhaenyra, at the same time you didn't feel bad, they had duties they needed attending to, and you were just an obstacle in everyone's lives. The night was long and Bloodfyre needed to rest. You then spotted something in the air, what could it be? You thought, seen that it was covered by some clouds. Then you saw a giant floating rock, you quickly instructed Bloodfyre to move.

He moved to the side to avoid hitting the floating rock, then again and again, what was this place? You thought, seen how green it was due to its plants. Then you noticed other flying creatures, where they dragon? You thought, but when you saw them closer, you noticed how they were not dragons but creatures you've never seen in your life.

You needed land, you saw an empty cave like hole in a stone like wall. It looked big enough for Bloodfyre to fit. You instructed him to fly to the cave, he did and just like you imagined, he fit perfectly. You got off the saddle and checked on him. Seen his tired expression made you feel bad for flying all night. You petted his huge snout and cooed at him like a baby "I'm sorry I made you fly all night, now rest" you told him, giving is chin a good scratch seen how happy he got.

You then walked towards the cave to peak out into the strange place. You couldn't stay, you needed to learn more of this place. You looked over at Bloodfyre who was now in deep slumber. You didn't want to wake him so you left the cave just to explore the place. You climbed on some vines and lifted yourself onto a walk small opening of a cliff with a waterfall. Floating mountains? Strange flying creatures? Where were you? Was this Yi-Ti? you thought.

You began to walk around the jungle like place, to see if their was anyone that could help you or tell you were you were. You had some trouble since you were in a dress, the dress wasn't designed for that sort of thing. You didn't care that your dress kept getting caught on branches or being ripped in the process. At this point you just tore off the bottom of the dress and abandoned your shoes to walk better. You walked for a long time, until you came across a group of kids, running around a pond, splashing one another and playing around, you got closer. You noticed a human boy, but also three others, but they weren't human, they had blue skin and were much taller. They spoke in a language that was unfamiliar to you.

You continued to hide in the brushes, until you felt someone see you. You froze on the spot, it was one of the blue kids, but she was much younger at least she looked. She approached your hiding spot, then stoke her hand in, touching your arm, which made her flinch and pull away. "Come on out!" She said something you didn't undertand, but this caught the attention of the other kids. "Tuk what are you doing?" Kiri asked, seen that her sister was looking at a bush.

"Their is someone in the bush and they won't come out" She said, now Lo'ak and Spider got close, to try and get a peak. You new they'd find you sooner or later, so you stepped out of the bush. Making all the kids back away from you, surprised to see someone like you just like how you were surprised on seen them. "I apologize, I didn't mean to startle you" you said spoke in English. They looked at you features closely. Seen your short white hair, purple eyes, your red tattered dress and dirty feet.

"Who are you?" The blue boy asked you first, but you responded "I'm Y/n Targaryen, I was flying on my dragon and I ended up here" you explained, but they looked even more confused. "Dragon?" The human boy asked. "Yeah, my dragon, us Targaryen's are known for our dragons, as well as our white hair and purple eyes." You explained, but you only confused him more. "Can you please tell me what this place is? please?" you asked, it took a moment for them to think, but they finally came to an agreement. "Follow us" Lo'ak instrcted.

You did as you were told and followed them, they were pretty fast for your comfort but you kept up. While you followed them they asked you about what a dragon was and about the Targaryen's, you told them a bit of history about your family, as well as the dragons. They seemed to be very interested in the dragons, how they were beasts who breathed fire and could fly. Now they wanted to see Bloodfyre.

They had led you to a kind of camp, with huts allover and those same flying creatures that you saw. You got looks from the na'vi, it was obvious that they had never seen someone like you, then you went into the Hut with the kids, seeing two adults and an older kid. "Who's this?" Neytiri asked her kids, eyeing you up and down, weirded out your looks and attire. "Her name is Y/n Targaryen, she said. She said that she was flying on her dragon and ended up here."

Jake got close to you, seen your attire and looks, he knew their was something off about you. He just knew for a fact that you weren't from a current timeline. "How did you end here?" he asked in English. "I have no Idea My Lord, I was just simply flying on my dragon and I ended up here" even your vocabulary wasn't one of current person. Jake had no idea what to do, whether to let you stay or not, but he felt as if you needed help. "Where are you from?" he asked. "I'm from Westeros My Lord" you said, not wanting to mention your princess status, you began to hate your princess title.

Jake then turned to his wife, who was eyeing you still. "What are you going to do with her?" Neytiri asked her mate. "I don't know, I think it's best that we let her stay" he stated, making his wife's look turn sour. "We already have humans living among us, I don't want more here" she growled, but Jake wasn't giving up yet. "I know, but she is not of this current time line, she is from a different more ancient time line. Please Neytiri" he gave his wife a sympathetic look, Neytiri thought for a moment, but just agreed, not happy with the Idea of having you be here.

"Me and my wife will let you stay, but with the condition that you learn our ways" Jake stated, you bowed to him "Thank you for yours and your lady wife's hospitality" then Jake motioned his oldest son over. "My oldest son, Neteyam, he will teach you" he stated, you turned to Neteyam and bowed to him as well. "Thank you again" you told him. "We'll start tomorrow, you need some rest and a change of clothes" Neteyam told you, making you look down at your tattered dress. "Yeah, I believe you're right."

Kiri and Tuk helped you change into their kind of attire, if your mother or grandsire were to see you, they'd die on the spot. This was a very scandalous kind of attire, but it felt nice not having to wear heavy dresses and tight corsets. After you went with the family to have dinner, they were sitting on the floor in a circle, you didn't think much of it. You just sat down between Kiri and Tuk since Tuk insisted you sit with her.

You were then handed a leaf with bugs on them, this was new. You grabbed a bug and placed it on your mouth, it was very crunch but to your surprised, it tasted good, way better then whatever food back home. "Y/n, can you tell us about your yourself?" Lo'ak broke the silence. "Their isn't really anything interesting about me" you admitted, but Lo'ak insisted. "There must be, why else would be able to ride a dragon?" he asked, receiving a glare from his father.

"Okay fine, I'm actually a princess." You admitted, catching Tuk's attention by this. "You're a princess?" she asked with shiny eyes. "Yeah, or you could say I was. I ran away from home. My mother wanted to marry me to some lord and bare his children to keep my blood line running. But I wasn't interested in marrying." You stated. "So you ran away?" Kiri was the one to ask. "Yeah, I know it looks bad since I'm a princess and all, but my siblings had way more important roles then me."

Lo'ak again asked. "You have brothers and sister?" you nodded. "Yeah, Three brother and two older sister, not to mention the dead ones." You said, taking a bite from you food. "Dead ones?" Neteyam was the one to chime in. "Yeah, my father was desperate for a son, his previous wife was always pregnant, the only child that survived was my oldest sister Rhaenyra. Then his wife died in child birth because he requested for his son to be cut out from her stomach. He didn't survive either" you explained. "Then he married my now power hungry mother, who gave him three sons and two daughters. Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, Daeron, and me."

They listened to what you had to say, they seemed a bit disturbed but they listened anyway. "What of dragons?" Lo'ak asked. "Oh, you'll be here all night if I told you, but I'll just tell a bit. Dragons have been a part of my family for many years. Every time a babe is born, a dragon age is placed in their crib and if the egg hatches that means that they'll be able to ride that Dragon once it ages, but you'll have to tame it as years come." You explained. "So you're bonded to that dragon for life?" Tuk asked, very curious about what you were explaining to them. "Well, for as long as you live, dragon's live for along time. For as long as you're alive you and your dragon are bonded until you die, then your dragon can choose it's next rider. Vhagar is one of the oldest dragon's along with Vermithor. They're one of the biggest dragons in the world. But Vhagar had history, she was ridden by my ancestor Visenya who helped her brother-husband conquer the seven kingdoms."

Kiri got a confused look on her face. "Wait, brother husband? She was married to her brother?" she asked while looking disturbed. "Yeah, It's normal to marry brothers and sisters, as well as cousins. To keep our blood line pure and to keep the Targaryen blood line going. It's also why I look the way that I do, because of my ancestors. Plus my older brother and sister are married to one another." You said unfaced, making Kiri have a fake gag. "Ew, imagine having to marry one another" she mentioned, but Lo'ak thought of joke. "Who wouldn't want to marry me" he said while Neteyam lightly pushed him. "No one would want to marry you bro" he said, making his younger brother laugh.

The next morning, you went to check on Bloodfyre, you thought about going on your own, but Jake and Neteyam wanted to see your creature first. When you got to the location, you guided them to where Bloodfyre was located. When at the cave, you spotted that he was awake. He purred as soon as he saw you, but when he saw both Jake and Neteyam, he glowed and was about to open his mouth, but you went up to him. "It's okay Bloodfyre, they're my friends, they won't hurt you or me" you cooed at him, calming him down.

You then motioned for them to get closer, they did, but at a slow pace. "It's best that he knows you a bit so that he doesn't try and attack you" you mentioned, taking Jake and Neteyam's hands and allowed Bloodfyre to smell them. Once he got a good smell on the two of them, he seemed to have approved of them. "Does he only respond to that language of yours?" Neteyam asked, while Bloodfyre tried to get him to pet him. "Yeah, It's old Valyrian, I'll teach it to you" you responded while giving Bloodfyre a scratch on under his chin.

"Would you want to go for a ride?" you asked, both Jake and Neteyam loo at on another. "Maybe some other time, you need to get learning" Jake mentioned. You nodded and petted Bloodfyre one final time, then left with Jake and Neteyam out of the cave. "Where did you keep him back home?" Neteyam asked. "Well, we kept them in Dragon Pit where dragon keepers kept watch on the Dragon's, but now I'll have to take extra care of him." You talked while following Jake and Neteyam back into the woods.

You were being taught everything by Neteyam, you were learning the language. It was kind of hard picking up the language at first but you manage to learn enough to be able to communicate with others. You got excited when you began to learn how to wield a bow, you've seen your brother sparing with Ser Criston a couple time with a sword, but the bow was much better in your opinion. It wasn't fun since Neteyam kept on instructing you not to slouch and positioning you. After that lesson you felt like your arms were going to fall off.

You finished your lessons for the day, so you went on a flight with Bloodfyre. You then introduced him to Kiri, Lo'ak, Tuk and Spider. They were amazed by the flying beast and had wanted to see him spit fire. You took them all on a ride around Pandora since they have been asking if you could, also to get Bloodfyre to get used to Pandora. You also taught the how to speak Old Valyrian so that they could communicate with Bloodfyre if needed.

They also taught you how to some modern English since yours was outdated. They felt weird when you call them Lady or Ser, Jake didn't like it when you called him 'Lord Jake' because it made him feel old. As for Neytiri, she'd often tell you not to call her 'Lady Neytiri' she preferred to just be called Neytiri. But Tuk liked it when you called her 'Lady Tuktirey' she'd say it made her feel older and more mature.

Months had passed and you were still with the Sully's, you'd sometimes think about home, but never going back. That whole drama that had been building for year, was non of your business and you weren't going to get involved. You got used to their lifestyle, it felt better doing things for yourself then to ask for thing be done for you. You had grown a love for hunting. You'd also been very distracted by the new place that you had forgot about drinking, back home you'd be desperate for wine, but this time you felt like you didn't need it.

You were also a part of their War and Raiding parties. At first Jake wasn't sure about letting you go, but you manage to convince him that if anything happens, then you could be be their back up. Jake had allowed you to join. You were a spotter with Lo'ak and Neteyam, but if anything were to happen, then you'd come in to help. The first time the Na'vi tried to strike you down, but Jake had told them that you were a part of the Party.

That day was another raid, while you were in the sky the other attacked the train. But when helicopters would appear, you and Bloodfyre take care of them by either setting them on fire or Bloodfyre would get a hold of them, and fling them into a mountain. You still remained in the sky while Neteyam went after Lo'ak who went down the train to get the loot. You manage to inform them about an up coming plain and got Bloodfyre to attack, but it was late when it had shoot some missals to where they were. You were worried seen the smoke and some na'vi laying on the floor, dead for sure, but when you saw that they had made it out you thanked the Gods that they were okay.

When you got back to the camp, you let Bloofyre go for a fight on his, while you went to see them. When you got their, you saw how Jake was scolding both Neteyam and Lo'ak, when he yelled at Neteyam about his responsibility on being the Older brother and that he should act like it. It almost reminded you of your mother, who constantly would scold Aegon that he needed to start acting like the rightful king that he is.

You went up to Jake once he was done talking to Lo'ak. "Jake, it's fine, I was up their I got it handled." You spoke, seen Jake look down at you. "That's not it Y/n, they were suppose to follow orders and they didn't" he mentioned. "I know, but they're just kids. You're to hard on them" you talked. Jake sat down on the floor and instructed you to sit, you sat in front of him on your knees. "I'm their father, it's my job to be hard on them." He pointed out. "I understand, but.. I know that you're their father, but you're also forgetting that they're still children."

You stated, then Jake looked at you in the eyes, seen that he had a look of fear in his eyes. "I thought I lost them." He mentioned. "So did I, I was afraid that something might of happened to them... I know you guys aren't my family, but I've grown to care for you guys as such." You admitted, feeling Jake take your hand into his bigger one. " Believe it or not, I also see you as family." He also admitted. This warmed your heart more, seen how your past family didn't seen to care for one another unless it was for personal gain. The Sully's had told showed you that blood isn't always thicker then water.

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