#he and aegon have that special eldest/father bond

[dirtytransmasc]

Modern (platonic) Alicole/Stepdad Criston hc's

Alicent and Criston became close friends as a means to cope with past traumas at the hands of Viserys and his family. they were the only ones who understood what happened to them and how they were trapped.

Criston being absolutely enamoured by her first two kids, who were still so little and helpless. forming a tight bond with the two, stepping up as their father when Viserys couldn't have cared less about them.

Criston claimed those kids as his own in his heart the day he met them.

Criston helping take care of the two through Alicent's last two pregnancies. being found more often than not with a kid on his hip, snuggles up against his chest, and another leading him through her favorite spot in the garden.

Criston being by her side, helping her with everything, from buying groceries, cooking dinner, cleaning, volunteering to watch the kids during the day, helping with bath time and putting them down for naps/the night. he becomes a second parent just cause he wants to.

Alicent demands that he be allowed in the room with her when she's delivering her last two kids. She wants to hold the hand of the only person she trusts when she's going through actual agony. Criston almost causes a scene when they take her away for a c section due to Aemond's labor being too difficult, and not being allowed to follow. being right back by her side the very second he's allowed.

Alicent letting him hold Aemond first, as she was too weak and tired to do it herself, and Criston swearing himself to the boy before he can even fully take him from the nurse.

Cristons support rising tenfold with the newest addition.

Criston starts sleeping on her couch so he can help with the nightshift. more often than not he's got at least one of the two elder children tucked in his side or sleeping on his chest.

Alicent suggesting he just moves in at that point and clearing out an old room for him to stay in. she secretly feels safer and saner when he's around, though she'll say its for his and the kids' sake.

Alicent making sure its in her birth plan that Criston stays with her no matter what happens with her delivery of Daeron so she won't be alone again.

the pair fleeing with the kids the second Viserys dies, moving at least a few counties over, away from the memories. Criston tries to live on his own, to give her and the kids space, but Alicent is not having that and almost demands that they stay together, they're family now and the kids need him, she needs him. it doesn't take much convincing, and they end up in a spacious suburban home with a yard and good school district.

Criston being called dad by the youngest 3 kids, but not by Aegon, who has a negative association with the titles, as he's never met a good father figure in his life. Criston making sure the boy doesn't feel bad about it and that he feels equally loved.

Criston staying up all night with sick kids, rubbing their backs and kiss their foreheads to check their temperatures. running out in the middle of the night for cough syrup and gatorade.

Criston sitting at the dinner table doing math homework, glasses, scrunchy face, and all.

Criston taking Helaena to her schools daddy daughter dances, only to sit on the floor in a back corner and talk about bugs. he knows she doesn't want to go to the dance itself, just likes what it represents. she likes going with her dad.

Criston going to all of Aemond's fencing tournaments and all of Daeron's sports events, coaching little league, being the loudest guy in the stands.

pushing Aegon to tap into his potential, getting him into all sorts of little hobbies and activities, not letting him give up on himself.

has to answer the "well are you the dad?" question all the time. he claims those kids as his every time, saying that not being their legal father or the fact that Aegon doesn't call him dad, won't ever change that.

after a couple years of staying together, Alicet and Criston join a civil union, not wanting the weight of marriage or all the questions that people who don't know better will ask, and they have the kids with them. Aemond tucked behind his mum's leg, Helaena holding onto her dress with one hand and Criston's finger in her other, Aegon's standing behind her, shifting between seeking his mom's affection and Cristons, resting his head on their shoulders, with Daeron on Criston's hip. everyone's tearing up just a bit. Criston's looking at his soulmate and at her children with such adoration. Alicent's feels truly secure for the first time in her life. all is well.

the topic of adoption came up time and time again, a complicated and touchy subject. its not necessarily that any party was against it, it just felt like something Criston could not ask of Alicent, to claim her children as his own in a literal, legal, weight-bearing sense. he also felt it was something he couldn't ask of the children, to officially accept him as their father and legal guardian. but on Aegon's 17th birthday, it comes up again, and its Aegon who asks him to; his eldest boy, with all of his issues with being open and vulnerable, reaching out into uncharted territory, asking him to adopt him? how could he even think of refusing?

he fights to adopt those kids as quickly as possible, while also making sure all of them, especially Aegon, see their therapists about the whole thing (both Alicent and Criston are acting as cycle breakers for both themselves and their kids, they're all in therapy).

held Aegon's hand all throughout rehab, holding him accountable where he needed to be and made sure he put the work in, but he was a very supportive person for him through the whole thing. especially cause Aegon was worried about hurting his mom more than he already had, and hated seeing her worry about him. probably the only reason he got through it all.

Helps Helaena with her studies and coping with school and the idea of life away from home and at college. cheered her on all through her studies as she studied in different fields to find her true passion.

when Aemond loses his eye (get creative, I don't feel like figuring out a how in this situation) he's there for occupational therapy, every time, doesn't matter what he had to call out of or miss out on. didn't let him feel like he was odd or behind, he was his perfect boy through and through.

dog dad, got each of the kids there own dog. Aegon for his recovery (some shaggy retriever mix Aegon fell in love with while doing community service at the pound), Helaena for something to take to college (a majestic Weimaraner), Aemond to help cope with his eyes (a big old Irish wolfhound tha practically mothers him, Daeron got one so he had a running partner that might actually keep up with him (a Dalmation). Criston helps take care of all of them and loves them just as much as his human children. lets just say that house is chaos and full of hair. Alicent is very happy with her cat, who loves her and tolerates everyone else. [for the dogs I picked a breed I felt best fit both their dragons but also their personality and reason for getting a dog. Aemonds was the hardest to decide on and I'm iffy on it I like it but oh well]

takes the kids out on daddy daughter/father son dates on the regular. normally Aegon just wants to watch a movie, but he has asked to go to a stripclub more times than criston can count (and vetoed). he's tired. he loves his son he swears. Helaena will ask to go to a museam or garden. Aemond and Daeron will settle for any sort of physical activity (so long as its followed by a sweet of some sort, ice cream is a personal favorite for the three).

the kids and Criston make sure to spoil their mom on mother's day. flowers, breakfast in bed, lots of cuddles, a day to do whatever she pleases.

he gets the kids to to church for their mother, makes sure they're polite and well mannered, especially when they were younger. its possibly the only time he is strict with them.

still tucks the kids in every night. Aegon's 19.

[stxrgaryen]

The other woman | Jacaerys Velaryon

Summary: In which I shuffle my playlist, spin a wheel and write a one shot for a random character from House of The Dragon.

On todays episode:

Song: The other woman by Lana Del Rey

Character: Jacaerys Velaryon

Warnings: none I think??

Word count: 4.42k

You had never held any wild preconceived notions of love. You knew it to be trying and oftentimes disappointing. Growing up you had watched your father dismiss and neglect your mother, all to pine for a woman that was no longer alive.

You could still hear the arguments that raged between them— the queen insisting that Viserys took no interest in his children, and your father replying that it was nonsense.

Of course he knew it to be the truth, he just did not care enough to change his ways.

He would always offer your mother remorseless apologies the morning following a big argument, gifting her beautiful gowns and expensive jewels. It was how you knew he did not truly love her.

Your father did not care enough to fight for her, to listen to her plights and address her concerns.

No matter how warped your idea of love had begun, you always knew it existed.

Your mother, Queen Alicent, had been the best example. She loved you with all her heart, entertained discussions that never interested her just because she adored the way your face lit up.

Each time you completed a patch of embroidery, she would show it off whenever she held court, urging her ladies to shower you with compliments.

Although it made her head spin with anxiety, she accompanied you to the dragonpit whenever you wished to visit your hatchling. She was present for each milestone you made and every accomplishment you gained.

She taught you that the love between a mother and her children was sacred and you knew in your deepest of hearts that there was no length she would not go to protect you.

You thought the absolute world of your mother. You adored her beautiful dresses and saccharine smiles. You loved how she did her hair and carried herself with such elegance.

Through watching her, you learned to make the best of whatever circumstances were handed to you, no matter how unfavorable you found them to be.

Queen Alicent guarded you like a well kept secret.

You were a child she had always deemed solely hers. Aegon was born for the crown, belonging entirely to the throne he would one day inherit. Helaena was born for him, meant to be the queen by his side. Daeron was for Oldtown, meant to serve as a squire for her uncle Hobart until he came of age.

Aemond would be set up in some kind of political marriage, most likely of a woman set to inherit lands, a match that would require him to leave her. But you— you were hers.

She could raise you as a child of her own and sure, someday you would have to marry but it could be to a minor Lord, perhaps a second son, one that would allow you to stay in the Red Keep.

It had offended Alicent to her very core when Rhaenyra suggested a betrothal between her sweet daughter and the eldest bastard.

And for all your mothers efforts, you adored her for her willingness to protect you and your siblings.

The second kind of love you had learned to cherish was that of your brothers' and sister and although you loved each of your siblings (yes, even Aegon), Aemond had always held a special place in your heart. 

It was hard to describe the bond between you. It wasn't romantic, you had never held those kinds of feelings for him, nor he for you, but there was some kind of soul tie between the two of you, allowing you to know each other in ways others simply could not.

You held his hand through the rough days and laughed with him through the good.

Your fondest memories were faking coughs and wiping at a dry noses just so you could curl up with your brother in front of the hearth in your mother's private rooms, your other siblings following shortly after.

"You know—" Alicent had spoken to her children one night, "you don't have to fake an illness just to come visit."

You had smiled so brightly at those words, snuggled happily between Aemond and Helaena, your little brother’s head resting on your lap.

Aegon sat beside Helaena, his shoulder resting against hers as he pretended to hate every second of the interaction. 

You always noted how he insisted on joining you despite his claims to hate these nights.

Your mother would sit in her chair, taking turns stroking each of your siblings heads as she called for melted chocolate and read a story for you all.

You had never felt such comfort, never felt so safe.

Growing up, your father was always sick. You could not remember a day where he felt well enough to spend time with you.

At least this is what you remember him claiming.

When your dragon had emerged from its shell, you had been completely breath-taken by her pearlescent silver scales. You marveled at how the sun reflected off them.

You named her Meraxes, after princess Rhaenys' mount.

You had gone bounding up the keep's steps, racing to your father's room to tell him of your new dragon.

You had thought that he could tell you tales of the conqueror. That he would possibly even speak of Balerion and what it was like to mount him.

Barely containing your excitement, you reached for the handle of his door, smile already plastered across your face. As the door pushed open you stopped dead in your tracks.

Viserys sat in his chair, smiling at Jacaerys and Lucerys, pointing to different parts of his model of the Valyrian Freehold. He spoke High Valyrian, slowing the ancient words so his grandsons could catch each syllable

It was something ugly that festered in you at the sight.

He had never smiled at you like that. Had never taken the time to show you or your siblings the thing he seemed to love more than them. He didn't teach you histories or the ancient language of Valyria.

Your father looked at you and his smile dropped just the slightest, before widening again. Although this time, it did not reach his eyes. Yours dropped completely, your breath coming out rushed and labored as your fists clenched at your side.

"Kepa." You greeted, making a point of pronouncing the word flawlessly.

Viserys nodded, "y/n" 

An awkward silence hung in the air as the king and his grandsons stared at the disheveled girl. Viserys looked at you expectantly.

"Ñuha zaldrīzes—" you began.

"I don't understand." Lucerys cut you off with a whine. 

Your father's true smile appeared as he looked at Luke and you felt tears cloud your vision. 

"My dragon hatched." You whispered, every bit of excitement you once held now dead and gone.

"That is very good news." Viserys said indulgently. "Have you told your mother yet?"

You shook your head no.

"Then perhaps you should go tell her." You could remember your father saying, attempting to disguise his dismissal. 

You said nothing as you slammed the door and ran to your mother's chambers.

When your siblings had visited you later that night, with honey cakes and hot tea, you knew that with them, you were always loved.

They cheered you up to the best of their abilities, spouting nonsense and exaggerated stories, all in the name of seeing you smile. 

The third and final kind of love that you had learned to cherish over your few short years of life, was the kind shared between friends. 

It was hard for you to believe that even now, Jacaerys had ever felt anything towards you other than contempt.

He had always been a child of great temper whereas you were levelheaded, at least in your shared youth.

You were the calm to his storm but never the apple of his eye.

Those were the days in which he was promised to Baela Targaryen.

He would boast over her beauty and bravery like they were prizes he had won. You never minded, you were happy that your closest friend would one day marry someone he cared for.

Your earliest memories are with him as you sat under the weirwood tree, arms intertwined as you picked candy lemons off honey cakes.

There was one day in particular where you had stolen the tray from the banquet table somewhere between the fifth and sixth hour of a feast, you had taken Jace by the sleeve, pulling him outside as you both began tearing the poor cakes apart.

King Viserys often threw revelries and just like all those before, he had drunk too much arbored gold.

On that day he had done just that— drank far more than his fair share and slurred some nonsense when he saw Rhaenyra, expressing how proud he was of his 'only child'.

You felt his words like a punch to the gut. There wasn’t a single thing in this world you wouldn’t give up to hear Viserys speak of you like that.

You had only been grateful your mother and siblings weren't around to hear it. It had been senselessly cruel, but it was your burden to shoulder.

You had only hoped his guard had ushered him to bed after.

"I do not understand why he doesn't like me." You admitted to Jace with a sigh. "I am just as much his child as Rhaenyra is."

Jacaerys turned to you, studying your sullen face as you picked off another candied lemon and popped it into your mouth. "Your father is a fool."

You turned to him with raised eyebrows. Swallowing the candied lemon, you placed the tray on the ground and sat up straight. "You just insulted the king." 

Jace shrugged, picking up a honey cake and taking a bite, "just because he's the king doesn't mean he's not a fool." 

"I thought you adored Viserys." You asked in confusion.

"You're my friend and he was mean to you." Jace shrugged again. When you didn't look convinced he continued, "your smart y/n. Like really smart. You know almost every part of Westeros, know almost every person that passes through court. You're kind to everyone, and good at everything."

Jacaerys shook his head, "and anyone who can not see that is a fool, including the king."

You beamed at his words. "Do you mean it?"

"Of course I do. You're my best girl." Jace beamed back. "One day I'll even make you hand of the king!"

You laid down, head resting against a root at you watched the red leaves sway gently in the breeze. Jacaerys settled next to you, laying his head directly next to yours.

"You're my best friend too." You whispered, not turning to see the way he smiled at the sky, eyes closed in contentment. 

─────────── ☙ ───────────

The rift in your friendship began with the pink dread. 

Above all, you cherished your siblings. You hated to see any of them upset and when it came to Aemond and his lack of a dragon, you knew just how much that singular problem effected him.

You had been in the dragonpit with them, learning to command Meraxes, as your brother and nephew did with their respective dragons.

As always, Aemond insisted on joining although he did not posses his own mount.

It was a kind of self-inflicted torture you could never quite understand but, your brother's determination was admirable, even if he hurt his own feelings in the process.

But of course, Aegon saw this same determination and wielded it as a weapon against him. Harsh jibes and terrible words were the least of your concern.

You stuck by your brother's side through it all, stuck up for him when permitted.

Today you had seen Aegon's cruel joke coming from a mile away.

Your face went red with anger as Jace and Aegon introduced the pink dread, little Lucerys running to find a pig with wings fastened to its back.

As your eldest brother and nephews left the dragonpit, you chased after them. Demanding answers for a brother who would not.

"Jacaerys!" You had yelled. You couldn't take your anger out on Aegon, although you knew it was deserved. 

Your friend turned to you as Aegon and Lucerys continued to walk away.

"How could you?" You asked, voice trembling with anger.

"We're no longer the subjects of Aegon's torment." Jace said simply.

You had known this was true. Aegon had tortured Jace and Luke from the moment they learned to walk.

Now that he had a new target, her nephews were relieved with the reprieve. An argument ensued. You, insisting Jacaerys and his brother must leave Aemond alone, and him arguing that he couldn’t.

"If you continue, I'll tell the king!" You threatened, with all the resolution and determination of a hardened warrior.

"And which of us holds the king's favor?" Jacaerys asked cruelly.

You flinched at his words, face growing pale.

"Your father hardly tolerates you." Jacaerys hissed, his words aiming to cut. "He adores Luke and I."

You had run to your mother with tears in your eyes, hiccuping through broken sobs at you buried yourself in the soft fabric of her dress. She ran a comforting hand over your soft silver curls, whispering assurances you knew were false.

"Your father loves you." Queen Alicent had sworn, her voice cracking .

You knew it was a lie just as she did. Maybe Viserys did care for you in some capacity, but if he did he had never shown it.

The next day your mother had marched you down to Princess Rhaenyra's solar, demanding answers for her son's harsh words, neglecting the fact that her own child had said and done far worse things to the princess' children.

It seemed that single argument was the beginning of the end for you and Jace. 

Later, he had brought you a sweet cake with a terribly written apology on a crumbled piece of parchment tucked beneath the plate.

You forgave him, as you did with everyone who wronged you in any way. It was always in your nature to forgive, no matter how badly words could sting, you valued relationships too much to push people away over mistakes they made.

Or you did at least.

─────────── ☙ ───────────

After that, spats always seemed to occur between the two of you. Some were serious but most were not.

It wasn't until Laena Velaryon's funeral that Jacaerys began to truly resent you. 

In the midst of another disagreement, he was refusing to speak to you.

Distraught over the death of Ser Harwin and overtaken with anger at the world, Jace avoided each of your attempts to reach out.

So you gave up, instead choosing to spend the day with Aemond. 

As far as funerals went, Lady Laena's had been beautiful.

You offered her daughter's your condolences and whispered assurances that meant nothing to them. They took took your hands in theirs, thanking you with sad but grateful smiles.

You remember your father calling you over, hand resting on your shoulder as he spoke to noblemen. 

Aemond came to your side without you even having to ask, silently taking your hand as you listened to the utter nonsense coming from your father's mouth.

It was was the moment after your father had told Aemond he could claim a hatchling or dragon egg, that you knew the day would not end well. 

Viserys never took into account how his children felt. Never once considered how he made them feel.

He only praised you in the company of others, only ever looked at you when you stood beside your eldest sister.

You had grown used to you father's aversion towards you and your siblings.

It made you lot all the closer, bonding over a neglectful father and a mother who tried desperately to overcompensate for that same father's neglect.

You tried not to let it bother you. How your father invited your nephews into his private chambers, sharing tales of Old Valyria and their family heritage. They never cared for it but, you did.

You tried not to think of how unfair it was because if you did you would never be free to think of anything else.

You watched as your father humiliated Aemond for what seemed like the millionth time in your known memory. You followed him as he ran from the great hall, wiped the tears from his cheeks once he stopped on the shores of High Tide's beach. 

When some time had passed and your brother looked up with hardened resolution, you knew he had a plan. 

To claim Vhagar, he whispered, would be to claim the world.

You agreed without a second thought.

Not thinking of the dragon's rider who had been sent to the sea not even a day prior.

You didn't think of the daughter's she left behind or the friend who was betrothed to one of those same daughters.

You only thought of your brother and the shared humiliation your father had forced you to bare your entire childhood.

So you agreed to help him. Not considering the consequences of this decision. 

In the dead of night you set off with Aemond, determined to help him claim a dragon. 

You had made your way to the outer yard, saddling Meraxes as you took to the skies— guiding Aemond who ran below, to the sleeping Vhagar.

You watched with bated breath as he approached her.

Felt anxiety when you saw her maw open and relief when Aemond had gotten her to calm. 

As he took his first flight, you flew beside him. You had smiled so wide your cheeks hurt, cheered so loud that your throat ached.

When you landed you gave him the grandest of hugs, boasting how proud you were of him all the way until you reached the keep.

Where they waited.

It all happened so quickly.

You barely processed the insults the slipped past your brother's lips, barely had time to think as Baela surged forward and struck Aemond with a closed fist.

You tried to stop it. Tried to command them with a shaky voice to calm down. But they did not listen.

Before you could blink, your hands were pulling Lucerys back by the collar of his shirt— just after his blade had taken Aemond's eye.

You couldn't think, could not breathe as you watched Aemond writhing on the ground.

A fury you had never quite felt before rose in your gut, tears flowing as you struggled to find the words to express your anger, your horror. 

Jace's eyes met yours. His face went pale and eyes wide. 

"You bastards will burn for this." You promised, rushing to your brothers aid.

What happened next was only salt in an already gaping wound. 

You refused to tear your gaze away from your brother as the Maester carved out his eye.

You could do nothing but watch as your mother struggled with her grief. She tried to bring justice to her children, tried to make it right. 

Blame was thrown back and forth between each party.

The king was having none of it, insisting you were a family, that you ought to love one another.

It wasn't until Rhaenyra spoke up, at the behest of her sons, that the king finally began to listen.

Jace spoke next, your own words thrown back at you as your brother was being stitched whole in the seat beside you.

"Y/n and Aemond must be sharply questioned," Rhaenyra deflected "so we might learn where they heard such slanders." 

Your back had gone rigid, your expression contorting into one of hurt. You watched as your mother struggled to defend you and Aemond and as your father ignored her entirely, just as he always did.

You felt helpless as you watched your desperate mother lunge for the heir, Valyrian steel dagger in her hands, seeking justice for her children when no one else would.

You understood it then. Why your mother was always so desperate to keep you away from Rhaenyra and her sons’. They did not have your best interests at heart.

They had harmed your brother and faced no consequences. What would happen when Rhaenyra ascended the throne? 

The two women broke apart, breaths ragged and tears in their eyes.

Aemond rose from his chair, hugging his mother as he deemed the exchange fair, although you knew it was only in an attempt to calm her.

The silence was deafening as the opposing sides of house Targaryen began staring incredulously at one another. 

"This matter is at an end!" your father's voice boomed as your mother dropped the dagger, blood now dripping from its blade. "Now make your apologies and exchange vows of good will."

When no one moved, the king spoke again.

"If you refuse to make this family whole— then I will." He rasped. Viserys pointed his cane toward you, "By royal decree, Jacaerys Velaryon and Y/n Targaryen are now formally betrothed."

Your mother's head turned with so much force, you had thought her neck would snap.

Viserys's eyes narrowed, "House Targaryen must be unified and with this marriage, it shall be."

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your nails leaving crescent shaped indents in your palms.

You looked at your mother in horror who only shook her head in return, closing her eyes as tears cascaded down her cheeks.

Rhaenyra nodded in agreement but spoke solemnly, "A fine match, Your Grace."

Nothing could have prepared you for how disastrous your marriage would be.

─────────── ☙ ───────────

In the years following Driftmark, you grew into a beautiful young woman, with pale lilac eyes and shimmering silver hair.

You were everything expected of a Targaryen princess.

Your smile still shone bright as bright as a star in the night sky. You had maintained your kindness and your incredible ability to forgive. 

"More beautiful than Rhaenyra ever was at your age." A lord at court had declared.

The compliments pleased your mother beyond belief, she had always been so proud of you and the appraisal of her court’s members only furthered her sentiments.

You had grown into a well-rounded young lady. You were more than talented with the high harp and possessed embroidery skills that were near to perfection. Your charisma and charm was nearly unmatched, drawing in anyone who dared to come close.

The entire realm looked forward to the day you were crowned Queen Consort. 

You had found happiness in your life, with your siblings and the people around you.

But while the years had made you all the merrier, there was a constant storm cloud just over the horizon, threatening to upend your life and thrust you into the unknown.

You had not forgotten your betrothed or the terrible way things had been left between you.

Still, you looked to you marriage with hope. You thought that perhaps maybe, you could perhaps reestablish the friendship that was once there, if not pursue a romantic relationship.

On the days leading up to your wedding celebrations, you had spent hours pouring over every minute detail.

You arranged the dragon's breath lining down the center of each banquet table. You spent hours upon hours with the palace's head chef, deciding which wine would pair best with each course.

You made sure that the sigils of both houses, Targaryen and Velaryon, were displayed throughout the castle.

You arranged for singers and harpists to fill the halls with beautiful melodies throughout the week.

There was not a single detail you overlooked, nothing seemed too small in your eyes. 

When it came time for your betrothed to arrive with his family, you wore your best dress and had your handmaidens braid your long silver hair into an intricate updo. You wore your mother's emerald earrings and matching necklace, the jewels complimenting the colored fabric of your gown. 

You waited with your parents and sister for their arrival, your brothers both refused to welcome them, but this did not shock you.

Jaehaera and Jaehaerys clung to Helaena’s skirts, occasionally venturing far enough from her to speak with you. 

Your nerves ate away at you until your hands shook, so instead you clasped them together before you. 

As the black and red wheelhouse rolled into the court yard, you attempted your best at a welcoming smile. 

Princess Rhaenyra emerged first, a guard helping her to her feet.

She crossed over swiftly, greeting your father then the queen. She turned to you with a too sweet smile, remarking on how beautiful your emerald dress was. You thanked her, eagerly turning back to watch the others come out. 

Prince Daemon was next, holding one of their younger children in his arms. The child's nursemaid was quick to scoop the young prince from him, shushing the babe as he cried for his father.

He did the same as Rhaenyra, greeting his brother and then his good sister.

He spoke a soft hello to Helaena, her children, and then to you.

You noticed the cautious look in his eyes as he took you in. You did all you could not to cower from his gaze.

By the time you looked back, Jacaerys had already been standing on the ground, a hand outstretched to help someone else down the steps of the wheelhouse.

You watched as a tanned hand met with his, one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen emerging shortly after. Her hair fell in silver ringlets down to her waist, her dress a beautiful shade of sea green.

You felt your chest tighten as you realized who it was, Baela Targaryen.

You felt a small hand grip your own, looking down to find your niece, Jaehaera looking up at you with wide violet eyes. You sent her a comforting smile, running a soft hand along her cheek. 

Looking back up you saw Jacaerys approach, Baela's arm intertwined through his own.

You tried not to stare, tried to keep a smile on your face but had found it difficult.

They're friends , you reminded yourself, siblings. 

You tried to ignore the way he looked at her, how Baela returned that look.

You didn't want to believe it, did not want to admit you had no chance at a peaceful life.

Jacaerys offered you a tight lipped smile, nodding once before moving to greet his grandfather.

You hated how it made you feel. Hated that he overlooked you after you had spent so much of your time thinking of him, of the life you would share together.

It will get better, you assured, We haven't spoken in years. Jacaerys will warm to me eventually.

So you painted a pretty smile on your face, ignoring the nagging feeling that all would not be well.

You led your guests into the palace, seeing to it that each were settled in their chambers before you went to find your brothers.

On the eve of your wedding, you paced in your mother's room, nails bitten down to the beds.

All week you had tried to connect with Jacaerys only for him to avoid your efforts entirely.

Jacaerys had never wanted to marry you. You knew this in your heart of hearts.

He never treated you poorly but the slights were constant.

He would leave you mid conversation to go to Baela or at dinners he'd choose the seat beside hers instead of the one next to you. He avoided your affection and cast you aside with every given chance, dismissing your very existence as if your presence offended him.

You faced it all with a stiff lip, never taking his rejections as a sign to stop reaching out your hand.

You wanted the relationship with your husband to better than your parents had been, wanted to make it better for the children you would one day share but as the week continued, it was clear that some things were simply out of your control.

"He doesn't love me." You stressed to your mother, your nightdress trailing behind you as you paced.

"These things take time, my dear." She tried to calm you. "Not all great loves can begin over night."

You still had yet to accept it, that you had a feeling that with Jacaerys, there was no great love in your future.

You tried your best to smile, to convince both yourself and your mother that you believed her words would hold true.

But the truth was, you were just another woman of House Targaryen destined for tragedy.

The ceremony had gone and passed with no issue. You were joined as man and wife in the eyes of the gods. A Valyrian ceremony would follow as soon as you arrived on Dragonstone.

At your wedding feast, you sat and laughed at the high table, genuinely happy with the day’s events.

Jacaerys smiled politely, picking at his food and barely acknowledging his new wife.

Members from both sides gave toasts, wishing the new couple all the happiness in the world.

“May you find as much love and contentment as I did with my Aemma.” Viserys had spoken, caring not for how his current wife would take the jab. 

When it came time for the first dance, Jacaerys stood from his seat.

He pushed his chair out and rounded it, making sure to tuck it neatly under the table. 

You smiled at him, butterflies in your stomach.

Your husband truly was a handsome man.

There certainly were worse options and as of this moment, you had believed yourself to be lucky.

But he did not return your hopeful look.

He barely glanced at you as he walked passed, down the length of the table to where Baela Targaryen sat.

Jacaerys outstretched a hand as the entire room burst out into hushed whispers. 

You felt every butterfly that had come to life, die within seconds.

Rhaenyra sprang from her seat, only to be dragged back down by Daemon.

Aemond stood too, looking absolutely murderous as Jacaerys led Baela to the dance floor.

Your mother voiced her outrage, even Aegon stood, joining Aemond as they muttered to one another.

You felt trapped, completely unable to move as Jacaerys twirled Baela around.

This was when you had accepted your fate.

Like mother like daughter, they would whisper for years after.

You were a woman cursed to live in the shadow of another.

You may have been his wife, but you would always be the other woman.

[lya-dustin]

Shock and Delight

Or the Aemond x Aemma (oc) Bridgerton!AU no one asked for x this week's prompt from @hotd-bigbang (September 22nd: "All my means are sane, my motive and my object mad." (Moby Dick))

Please do not ask when i am returning to my other wips as i have no control and by the looks of it just started a new one.

The household of the Princess of Dragonstone is always a sight to behold at court. Whether it is by its sheer size ---the Realm's Delight in her piety has had a child for each of the Seven and her mother’s heart welcomed Lady Laena's daughters as if they were her own bringing her up to the unholy number nine---, the cohesion of it or its variation in coloring, you find yourself looking at them.

Unfortunately, their good looks, dragons, and enviable familial bond do not make up for the fact that, in comparison to Queen Alicent’s four children, they are rather ordinary. Yes, dear reader, that observation includes newborn Princess Visenya.

One has to wonder if their rank in the succession and dragons will be enough to find them all good matches now that the eldest two are to join the violent and bloody melee that is polite society.

--- the Morning Scandal

“I told you the printing press was a bad idea.” Daemon comments as the week’s scandal is read to him by his wife and niece.

“You sound like Otto.” Rhaenyra said refusing to take down her idea of a free ---but moderated--- press. “Besides it’s not hinting at It, the printer checks with me before letting things like these harmless little paper circulates around the world.”

“If the scandal sheet is as harmless as you say, then why are you going all out on the twins’ debut, sweetheart?” he asked looking smug at knowing it got to her.

No one could see them as ordinary, if people know they are not as special as they appear they will begin doubting the place they have in life. They would see Rhaenyra was an ordinary woman and wonder why ordinary bastards were called so and hers cannot.

The myth created by their culture protected them, if the smallfolk believe the gods spat the Valyrians onto land and gave them dragons and dreams to conquer the land they would not dare to harm her family.

Aemma, the elder of the twins and her heir, could not be seen as an ordinary girl. Not when her crown would pass on to her and give them the boost needed to push for absolute primogeniture as Queen Alysanne and Prince Aemon had hoped to do so only to have his own fucking father deny the legality of his will by calling the Great Council.

People will contest her father’s will; Otto Hightower was not wasting his time hoping to change her father’s mind as Alicent did and was doing everything to have enough allies for when the time came.

“You saw Maester Orwyle and Lord Beesbury’s letter, he is dying, and it won’t be long before Otto shoves me out the way to put Aegon on my throne. If Aemma weds the right man, we can prevent needless bloodshed and make sure we keep on this path of peace.” Gods, Rhaenyra hated how much she sounded like father these days. It was as if the roles were now reversed ---only she knows Aemma wouldn’t be so naïve as to give up her maidenhead to the only young man who treats her as a person and not a meal ticket.

Jace could only marry a Celtigar, a Velaryon or someone with Valyrian coloring to secure his place as future Lord of the Tides. Despite truly being Laenor’s son, her sweet little boy did not look the part. Something that could be remedied if he wed, say, Vaemond’s sweet girl, Daena.

Aemma needed to have an advantageous marriage. She needed a lord with a title, wealth and something to get the Greens to rethink their plans. Rhaenyra could have her wed to Aemond knowing her father will say yes, but there is a possibility that her little brother, like her late first husband, prefers roast duck.

Even Mysaria cannot find a woman in his past or present save for the whore Aegon hired when he was three and ten. Poor boy must have been traumatized, as if him losing his eye and that clusterfuck afterwards hadn’t been enough.

Nothing wrong with his preferences if it was true. Rhaenyra enjoys a good goose from time to time as does his mother, she just didn’t want to damn her daughter to her life. Her sweet Aemma deserved a man who would love her as a husband should.

Unfortunately, the younger generation was plagued by an unholy number of heiresses and hardly any heirs. The Princess of Dragonstone could count on her hands the number of men young enough to wed Aemma without being old enough to have courted Rhaenyra.

“I thought you wanted her to marry someone of her choice.” Her husband reminded her, they had agreed no arranged marriages for their children.

“I do, as long as he fills all the requirements we need.” His wife assured him and pretended not to see the scandal sheet go under the rest of the news printed on this morning’s newsletters. He thinks she doesn’t know he reads it while in the privy, but she does, just as she knows who writes it.

“You are a madwoman, Nyra. How will you manage to find this mythical creature?” the Rogue Prince asked. This was the same man who managed to find two women perfect for him ---after the convenient death of his first wife--- through blind fucking luck.

“All my means are sane, my motive and my object mad.” Rhaenyra laughed and asked him not to speak of this once the children came in and sat down to break their fast as they always do.

[viranelle]

Rhaenys Targaryen

Queen Rhaenys Targaryen was the youngest sister of King Aegon I Targaryen, the first Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Both she and her older sister Visenya were married to Aegon, and it was said that she was Aegon's favorite. Through her son with Aegon, Aenys I, the line of the dragonkings continued, with fifteen of the sixteen Targaryen kings being direct descendants of Rhaenys and Aegon. She was a dragonrider who rode the dragon Meraxes.

Biography

Rhaenys was born on the island Dragonstone to Lord Aerion Targaryenand his wife, Lady Valaena Velaryon. She had two older siblings: Visenyaand Aegon. Although according to Valyrian marriage customs Rhaenys's brother Aegon was expected to marry his eldest sister, Visenya, he took both his sisters to wife. People claimed that he had wed Visenya out of duty, and Rhaenys out of desire. Prior to her wedding, Rhaenys became a dragonrider, having bonded with the dragon Meraxes.

Rhaenys was a beautiful woman with silver-gold hair, which she kept long and wore loose, purple eyes, and a slender body. She was kindhearted,  graceful, playful, curious, impulsive, and given to flights of fancy, with a mischievous aspect to her personality. She loved music, dancing, and poetry. She loved flying even more; It was said that she spent more time flying on her dragon than her siblings did combined. 

When her brother Aegon began his conquest of the Seven Kingdoms, Rhaenys sailed with him from Dragonstone. She and Visenya were sent to secure the submission of the castles nearby. Rhaenys flew on Meraxes to Rosby, which yielded peacefully to her. After having conquered a dozen houses, Aegon was crowned king. Rhaenys, now queen, hailed him as, "Aegon, First of his Name, King of All Westeros, and Shield of His People" after Visenya placed a Valyrian steel circlet on Aegon's head. Within days of Aegon's coronation, the Targaryen armies were sent out again. Rhaenys, upon Meraxes, accompanied Orys Baratheon and the greater part of the Targaryen host on their way to Storm's End in the stormlands. As they were crossing the Wendwater, the Targaryen host came under attack by the forces of Lords Errol, Fell, and Buckler, all bannermen to Storm's End. More than a thousand men were cut down before the attackers faded back into the trees. Rhaenys answered the attack by unleashing Meraxes upon them. As a wall of fire swept through the woods, the trees turned into torches. Lord Errol died, but Lords Fell and Buckler survived to send word to Storm's End. King Argilac Durrandon, having heard of the death of Harren Hoare in the burning of Harrenhal, decided to march from Storm's End to meet the Targaryen host on the field, refusing to burn in his castle as Harren had. Rhaenys, on Meraxes, witnessed how he departed from Storm's End, and returned to the Targaryen host with a report on Argilac's numbers and dispositions. 

 At the start of the battle, known as the Last Storm, a fierce storm began. The Durrandon host charge trice during the battle. The third time, they were able to break through the Baratheon center, but next found themselves face to face with Rhaenys and Meraxes. The knights of Argilac's personal guard, and Dickon Morrigen and the Bastard of Blackhaven, commanding the vanguard, were engulfed in dragonflame. The warhorses fled in terror, and chaos ensued. Argilac was met in battle by Orys Baratheon, and was slain by him in single combat. With the Storm King dead, Rhaenys accompanied the host to Storm's End, and flew upon Meraxes into the castle to parley with Argilac's daughter and heir, Argella. Although Argella refused to surrender the castle, the garrison eventually yielded both Argella and Storm's End to Orys.    

Rhaenys met Visenya, Aegon, and the Targaryen host at the Stoney Sept, from where they raced south to face the combined hosts of the Reach and the westerlands, under the command of Loren I Lannister, King of the Rock, and Mern IX Gardener, King of the Reach. Rhaenys and her siblings fought from dragonback, setting the dry grasses and stands of wheat on the battlefield afire. With more than four thousand men dead from the fire, and tens of thousands wounded by the flames, the battle became known as the Field of Fire. King Mern IX died in battle, and King Loren I fled, giving the Targaryens the victory. 

 Following Loren's surrender, the three Targaryen siblings parted ways once more, but met soon again at the banks of the Trident, where they awaited the host of King Torrhen Stark. After Torrhen bend the knee, Rhaenys parted from her siblings and traveled to Dorne. She flew over the Red Mountains of Dorne, ignoring the Dornish spearmen at the Prince's Pass, and landed at Vaith. She found the castle empty and abandoned, while only women, children, and old men remained in the town located next to the castle. Rhaenys next flew to Godsgrace, the seat of House Allyrion, and the Planky Town, but there too, the men and lords were away. Rhaenys eventually arrived at Sunspear, where only the eighty-year-old Meria Martell, Princess of Dorne, remained. Meria told Rhaenys to inform Aegon that Dorne would neither fight nor kneel, and would have no king. Rhaenys warned Meria that the Targaryens would return, and departed Sunspear, leaving Dorne the only unconquered Kingdom.    

Following Aegon's coronation at Oldtown by the High Septon, Rhaenys, Aegon, and Visenya took residence at the Aegonfort in King's Landing. Aegon often left the day-to-day governance of the realm in the charge of Rhaenys and Visenya, and his councilors. She was responsible for the rule of six, established by Rhaenys while Aegon was on a progress. This law declared that only six blows were allowed to be struck by a husband to his wife as punishment for her infidelity; one blow for each of the Seven, save the Stranger. As the cause of her rule had been a husband who had struck his unfaithful wife a hundred times, causing her death, the queen declared that the man had struck his wife unlawfully ninety-four of those times, and the dead woman's brothers were allowed to punish the husband equally. In addition, Rhaenys urged Aegon to make it unlawful for the ironborn to steal women throughout the Seven Kingdoms.

During the early years of her brother's reign, Rhaenys often aided Aegon in his efforts to win the respect of his vassals and the smallfolk. The smallfolk were a special concern for Rhaenys. She was fond of singers and bards as well. She also arranged marriages between far-flung houses.  Among these marriages was the marriage of the daughter of Lord Torrhen Stark to Ronnel Arryn, the Lord of the Eyrie. However, letters can be found at the Citadel which suggest that Torrhen only agreed to this match after much protest, and that his sons, who did not agree with the Targaryen rule, had refused to attend the wedding.

It was said at court that Aegon spent ten nights with Rhaenys for every night he spent with Visenya. On the nights that Aegon was not with her, Rhaenys surrounded herself with comely young men. It was rumored that she also entertained some in her bedchambers. Rhaenys gave birth to Aegon's eldest son, Aenys, in 7 AC. However, Aenys was weak and sickly as a young child; He cried often and refused to nurse from wet nurses, nursing only at his mother's breast. This caused rumors that he had not been fathered by Aegon, but possibly by one of the singers and mummers Rhaenys associated with. The rumors would persist until after Rhaenys's death. In 4 AC, Aegon I began a new campaign against Dorne. Rhaenys led the first assault on Dorne, seizing castles and burning Planky Town while approaching Sunspear. However, the Dornish lords once again refused to give open battle, and abandoned their seats. When Rhaenys and Aegon eventually reached Sunspear, Princess Meria Martell, as well as most others, had fled. Rhaenys and Aegon gathered the few courtiers and functionaries who had remained behind and, declaring themselves victorious, proclaimed that Dorne fell under the rule of the Iron Throne. Rhaenys and Aegon returned to King's Landing, leaving Lord Rosby as Sunspear's castellan while giving Lord Harlan Tyrell the charge of a host to fight the last revolts. However, they had barely reached the capital when the Dornish revolted with extreme rapidity, leading to the deaths of both Lord Rosby, by the hand of Princess Meria herself, and Lord Tyrell, who vanished in 5 AC with his army while marching to Sunspear to retake the castle. Entire garrisons were put to the sword, and the knights in charge were slowly tortured to death. The next few years of the war became more and more violent. The Targaryens returned to Dorne to unleash their dragons, and the Dornish responded with fire of their own. In 10 AC, at Hellholt a bolt from a scorpion pierced Meraxes through the eye. The dragon fell from the sky with Rhaenys on its back, destroying half the castle. It is not certain whether Rhaenys outlived Meraxes. There are those who say that Rhaenys lost her seat and fell to her death, while others claim that Rhaenys was crushed to death beneath Meraxes in the castle yard. A few accounts claim that Rhaenys survived the fall and died a slow death, being tortured by the Ullers. Due to the uncertainty about Rhaenys's exact death, history records that she died in 10 AC at Hellholt in Dorne. Her body was never returned to King's Landing.

The two years that followed Rhaenys's death were later dubbed the years of the Dragon's Wroth. Grief-stricken at the death of their sister, Aegon and Visenya set every castle, keep, and holdfast in Dorne ablaze at least once, with the exception of Sunspear and it's shadow city, and placed bounties on the heads of the Dornish lords. The war would last until 13 AC.    

Although a grand sept had already been constructed on Visenya's Hill in King's Landing, the Sept of Remembrance was later built on the Hill of Rhaenys as a memorial to the queen.