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bucknastysbabe · 1 year

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Hey I thought for a long time and this is what I came up with Do you remember the moment when various lords come to woo Rhaenyra in Dragonstone? So. Could you write something where Rhaenyra's daughter (Strong girl, of course) is in the same situation where her mother and Daemon are trying to find her a groom. And she's terribly bored and awkward and disgusted by all these idiots who are just annoying. But then an unexpected character appears who wants her hand and heart. who could it be? Aemon? Aegon? JACAERYS?! choose who you want)

Why not all three dear anon😏 I want to develop more on Jace anyways. I know we’ll get more of his dutiful ass in S2. My Aegon loving hopped out but here you go, thanks for asking and enjoy mwah xoxo

Winner takes All

The bastard’s ball, the mummer’s called it down in Flea Bottom. The occasion was reminiscent of Rhaenyra’s revolving door of the lords of Westeros. She ended up marrying her cousin of course. Now her daughter is of age, striking and witty at 8 and 10 years. Though the whispers still ran on account of her thick curls of dark brown. Some dare would say she had her father’s curls and usually got their tongue cut out for it.

But today was going to be a good day, whether the Velaryon was ready for it or not. She huffed while Baela and Rhaena along with a slew of handmaidens prettied the girl up. She grumbled, “Do I have to be so layered in finery I cannot move? They’re after my station, not the girl who carries it.”

Baela laughed, chestnut hands twisting the other’s hair into elaborate braids, “Who knows? Maybe some grumpy northron lord might change his mind when he sees the jewel of the Velaryons.” Rhaena added, “You’re the most beautiful maiden in the kingdoms!”

She rolled her eyes at the eager cousins.

“Wait until they see my brown hair and turn running,” she waved her hands, “Bastard! Bastard!” Some of the maidens gasped, scandalized at the blunt words. Baela hissed, snatching the girls ringed hand, “Don’t fuel the fires even more, dimwit!” She apologized quickly, “Sorry Baela, but you’re pure and more beautiful than I, Rhaena too.”

The princess settled back down into her braiding and sighed, “I know I have a choice in the matter but it all seems so…forced.”

Rhaena singsonged, “Love will find a way!”

Later the princess stood before the great Iron Throne. A dais was set for her to accept the line of lords. Her sworn sword, Ser Willis Fell, stood quietly behind. Rhaenyra and Daemon had her cornered up. The girl snapped, “I feel like I’m at a Lyseni whore auction.”

Daemon’s thin lips quirked as he laughed, “This is a much more grand affair than that, princess.”

Rhaenyra shook her head and pulled her daughter into a hug, stroking her back in soothing circles. She murmured, “I was just as distraught as you were then. Make light of the boys if you can. There’s no chance of intermarriage this time, sweetling.” The younger princess nodded grimly, clinging to her mother.

Daemon snorted derisively at the sound of boots approaching. Rhaenyra and her daughter turned to look at the hand, Otto, his face stern as ever. Rhaenyra sniffed, “I didn’t realize this was a matter for the hand considering it is my daughter.”

Otto hummed, tapping his pin, “Any occurrences revolving around the royal family and it’s dealings need the hand to be here.”

Daemon hissed under his breath, “Green bitch sent em’.”

The princess bowed customarily but her gaze held no warmth for the scheming worm. Otto was a nuisance, seeking to usurp her mother’s birthright for decades. She said, “Lord Hand, you may stand over there and offer consul if needed.” The lean man briskly nodded and took place by Ser Fell.

Rhaenyra hand swept back the princess’s flyaway curls with a soft smile— just for them only. She whispered, “Give them fire and blood, mayhap a smile, my girl.” Daemon leaned on Dark Sister and boomed, “Let the little lords parade begin!”

Otto’s face grew pinched as the others stifled a laugh. She noted surprisingly that Jace wasn’t present, the elder protective brother that he was. The princess stood proud, straightening her shoulders higher than the rigid queen could and beamed at the men filtering into the court. Queen Alicent and Helaena had slunk to the side of the hall, curious to see what the match may entail. Schemer.

The first lord was a young lad, mouth open in awe of the Velaryon’s dress. It was a fine piece of dark tiretaine wool, embroidered with the turquoise stones to emphasize her heritage. Similarly colored jewelry covered her ears and wrists, save the blood red ruby encrusted dragon on her ring finger.

The boy was decked in the garb of the Darklyn’s. The red fusily with the black and yellow diamonds. The princess scoffed and looked to Daemon. The boy chattered, “I have a strong family and a formidable keep to aid m’lady.”

The princess was mortified having to publicly shun the poor thing but said, “Thank you Lord Darklyn, I wish to bear children sooner.” Daemon waved the boy away curtly to start the whole charade over again. Another child. Great.

The parade went on and on, old men, fat men, crippled, so many boys, and even a damn hedge knight. Ser Willis handled that. The princess was going to self combust into dragon fire. Maybe if her dragon was here it would be a quicker affair.

“Next,” called Otto.

A lean, imposing figure stalked up to the dais. The gait looked familiar. He was hooded and knelt primly at her feet. Willis and Daemon drew steel, demanding to stay back.

“It’s only family, uncles,” came a bitter laugh.

The man yanked down his hood, thick silvery strands tumbling down to cascade across broad shoulders. Gasps echoed in the great hall. The smirking face of Aemond Targaryen glanced up at the young princess. He hummed, “I thought I would try my hand at claiming your beauty and uniting the rift between our family.”

Rhaenyra glared daggers at Alicent, spitting in accusation, “Do you think this is a farce? Shame on you!”

Alicent hollered back, “I had no such intentions for this!”

Otto slammed his hand down on a table, commanding the room. The princess yelped in surprise, utterly confounded at the entire situation.

Aemond? Her uncle that hated her family so? The Aemond whose eye was gouged by young Luke. It had to be a cruel jest. The elder prince no much than gave her a curt nod around the keep. She turned to Daemon for guidance. The rogue prince drawled, “Let the princess see if the wretch is worthy of her hand. A skilled warrior, that is all I shall add.”

The princess tapped her thumb on a plump bottom lip in thought. Aemond’s intense gaze held her own— bringing a flush to her cheeks. She said, “The matter of what our families bring to the table is out of discussion then,” she raised a brow, “What inspired this brave attempt at betrothal to the Black’s you hate?”

The brown haired girl flicked her hair, “Certainly not my silver locks or anything, your grace.”

A couple of onlookers laughed, Aemond’s sculpted lips grew pinched at the raucous.

One-eye sniffed airily, chin held high in defiance as he said, “I find your darker curls quite handsome,” he smirked, “You’re intelligent— something I can match you with, hāedar. Much better than these simple spring boys scrambling in their mud-keeps.”

The princess’ lips curled up in a pleased manner. She extended her hand, the ruby catching in the light like a cut wound. Aemond took her dainty hand and kissed the ring with reverence. He beckoned her to lean forward. He murmured into the girl’s ear, “The greens, the blacks. I say nay- let us unite with fire and blood like days of old, my princess.”

Rhaenyra’s perfect baby girl, or once was, grinned wildly down at the stoic prince. Otto and Alicent stared on in horror, same as the Realm’s Delight. Daemon giggled and covered his mouth. Ushering Aemond to stand she turned to her sworn sword.

“Ser Willis? Do you find this to be a suitable match?”

He paused, awkwardly clearing his throat before stating, “The dragon riding and genius of you two is unmatched. I’d say it would be a wondrous union.”

Aemond’s eye carefully crept along her face in anticipation. She demanded haughtily, “Then I have decided. Aemond and I shall wed. Do announce it Lord Hand.” Otto and Rhaenyra simultaneously sputtered and were silenced when the princess spat, “I said announce it!” Otto did so with a frown.

In the midst of the clapping she mused, “What a surprise, dear Uncle. I thought your heart was only held for Vhagar.” They held hands and smiled at the happy crowd. Aemond replied, “Hm. It was time to tame another dragon.” He squeezed her palm gently, a flicker of warmth in his eyes.

The poor Glover boy opened his mouth but didn’t get the chance to speak. From the entrance of the Great Hall came loud yelling and scuffling of boots. Daemon cocked his head from behind the young lady, hand flying to Dark Sister.

“Out of the way! I am your damn prince!”

Manic giggling ensued. The princess scoffed in annoyance. She knew exactly who the perpetrator was. Stupid Aegon and his stupid never ending affections. He declared his love for the princess in his cups only to proceed to smash that down in the pillow houses. She wanted to keep the pretty blonde to herself. Like a pet.

A disheveled Aegon appeared with a throughly exasperated Ser Criston. It appeared the prince had even been bathed and dressed— although still drunk as a Braavosi sailor. He shoved the Darklyn boy aside and declared angrily, “How come no one told me about this?”

Rhaenyra snapped, “Willis? Cole? Someone get this drunkard out of here, for the love of the Seven.” Alicent palmed her forehead in embarrassment, the pregnant Helaena smiling in amusement. Otto Hightower rumbled, eyes bulging in wrath, “Prince Aegon, this is unseemly. Do you forget your betrothal to Lady Floris Baratheon?”

Now halfway perched on the wide-eyed Glover lad Aegon snorted, “Ah yes! The illiterate stag bitch,” he waved his ringed fingers, “I come to claim the hand of my beautiful, intelligent, shapely, fiery Dragon niece.” Ser Criston yanked the prince aside, Aegon yelping and stumbling. All eyes turned to the princess in question.

Rhaenyra hissed in her ear, “I will send him out— just say the word. Foolish drunk has played with your heart for years. You’d be even more so the fool if you listen to this proposal.”

The girl sucked in a breath, shrugging off her mother. She spat, “If you would profess your emotions soberly I might consider it,” she sighed, “Bloody beautiful fool.” The brown-haired princess felt her heart constrict at Aegon’s sorry nature, she’d always been so endeared by his inability to fake an emotion. Aegon wore his heart on his green sleeve, no matter how intoxicated.

All Aegon had to do was flash his violet doe eyes and tremble his pretty lips and she was hooked. (Again.) Ser Criston had the prince by the scruff and hissed not-very-quietly, “A betrothal with the Strong? You must be really brain dead.” Spite settled over the girl’s pretty face, hands balling up to dig into her palm. She sat back in the chair adorned with dragons and stated, “Go on your grace, make your point and make it good. Back off Ser Criston.”

Daemon sauntered over to the embittered Dornishman and shoved him off with a playful grin. Aegon laughed in the white knight’s face before being drug forward on bruised knees with an ungainly cry by his uncle. The rogue prince gave Aegon another push and snickered, “Best of luck,” Daemon winked, “cunt.”

The tension in the air could be sliced with a blade. The princess leaned forward with a cat-like smirk, full lips temptingly pouty. She purred, “Why should I take you to be my husband? They think you’ll kill me in my sleep and usurp my mother’s gods given throne.”

Aegon shook his pale curls vehemently, “No, no, I don’t want the throne— never have. M’not fit for rule.” He clasped his hands and shook, begging, “Y’know I’ve always loved you, swear it by the seven!”

Alicent was held back by Helaena much to the Queen’s chagrin. Rhaenyra audibly scoffed at her pathetic half-brother. He knew how to worm his way into her daughter’s good graces— the girl craved complete and utter domination. Wanted a challenge to have it. Aegon was the challenger.

The princess cooed, “You say you love me but drown in whores. I’ll have your cock cut off for adultery if you stray, Uncle. You’ll be mine and mine only.”

He whimpered, “I’d only be your consort, loyal to you. Promise!”

With a swish of black wool the dark haired princess stood up. She announced, “One day for a break to see if Prince Aegon is true to his word,” she frowned, “Sober.” She clapped, commanding the rest of the hall, “If he is still willing, I will be taking his hand. Thank you.”

Aegon cracked a teary smile, clambering to her feet. The blacks and the greens swarmed behind, rife with plots and outright fear. The princess smiled and cooed at Aegon, petting his pretty silver locks. She wanted her progeny to have the same.

She stood from the chair, bored expression morphing into confusion. The hooded figure in front of the princess was familiar— the same body she’d been around since birth. Rhaenyra knew too, mother and daughter exclaiming, “Jacaerys!”

Off came the hood and the girl’s darling brother gazed up, putting on a stern face. The princess asked, “Brother, why are you here? I thought- the North? Our cousins?”

His plump lips twitched, dark eyes searching her own. He knelt to one knee and declared, “I can’t sit back and let my lovely baby sister get whipped away by some old lecher! I want to wed her as our ancestors did. Keep the line pure, us dragonriders are closer to god than men.”

While speaking, the handsome youth kept his gaze directly on the princess. The adults were perplexed. Rhaenyra held an amused look, she had a feeling her two held more than simply sibling affections for one another. Jace watched the girl like a hawk and often got into scraps defending her honor.

Otto hummed, “Aegon is wed to Helaena, I see no reason why not.”

Daemon spat, “Because you want more silver heads to usurp the throne.”

Their voices began to raise as the princess shouted, “Let me speak! This is my choice!” She climbed down to Jace, caressing his lightly stubbles cheek, grinning wildly. The elder fondly looked down, a gloved hand on her shoulder. Rhaenyra would lie later about shedding a tear.

Jace murmured so low just for them both, “I want you, to care and love, to ride our dragons, rule the Seven Kingdoms as Jaehaerys and Alysanne. With honor.”

Tears swam in her eyes. “I love you. Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” Jace pulled her into a hug and Ser Willis, ever knowing of his princess’ wants, shouted, “The betrothal has been secured.” The crowds were half annoyed, the other half cheered. The princess didn’t care, this was all that she wanted. She captured his pretty lips in a kiss, praising the Seven.

#hotd fic #aegon targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #jace velaryon x reader #aegon ii targaryen #whole gang here #answered ask #asks open #love you all people in my phone

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rainhadaenerys · 11 months

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One thing that I always saw from Dany antis, but never really wrote a proper post to refute, is the claim that Quentyn is not the Sun's son, it's Young Griff, and that Young Griff is not the mummer's dragon, it's Jon. So I want to make a post about this.

The argument usually goes: "Quentyn can't be the Sun's son because he is the Sun, not the Sun's son. The Sun's son must be Young Griff". But by this logic, Dany can't be called "the dragon's daughter" because she's the dragon, not the dragon's daughter. And yet, she is called the dragon's daughter and daughter of dragons. At some point people have to recognize that GRRM was just trying to be poetic. Quentyn is pretty much confirmed to be the Sun's son: he tried to steal Dany's dragon, and if that wasn't enough, his death creates a political problem for Dany in her negotiations with Dorne. So he was one of the people that Quaithe warned her she shouldn't trust.

Another argument is that "Aegon is not the mummer's dragon, he really is Elia's son, so Jon is the mummer's dragon, because Jon was hidden and playing a false role just like a mummer". And like… no. First of all, because there's a lot of evidence that Aegon is not the real Aegon, and that he could actually be Illyrio's son:

First, why wouldn’t Illyrio tell Dany and Viserys about him, or at least tell Doran and his family?

If Elia made a deal to save Aegon, why didn’t she try to save Rhaenys as well?

Why didn’t Elia tell anyone about this supposed plan? She could have written a letter to her family and Varys could have delivered it to them so that they would know Aegon survived.

Why would the Golden Company (that was always loyal to the Blackfyres) help a Targaryen prince? Especially when we consider that Viserys asked for the Golden Company’s help and was rejected, so it makes no sense for them to suddenly want to help some other Targaryen;

Illyrio even says something that hints very heavily at Aegon being a Blackfyre, when Tyrion asks him why would the Golden Company help a Targaryen: "Black or red, a dragon is still a dragon."

Illyrio’s wife had golden and silver hair;

Illyrio’s house has children’s clothes but there seems to be no sign of children in his house;

Young Griff is traveling with a septa that has stretch marks from a pregnancy;

Illyrio even says: “I told you, my little friend, not all that a man does is done for gain. Believe as you wish, but even fat old fools like me have friends, and debts of affection to repay.”

Illyrio also sends Young Griff gifts and sounds "oddly sad" when talking about him.

Of course, nothing is set in stone until GRRM writes the next books and reveals the truth, but people have to stop acting like there's no basis for the Aegon Blackfyre theory, because there is basis.

And Jon as the mummer's dragon makes no sense. If Jon was going to be referred to as playing a false role (and therefore being a "mummer's something"), he would be a mummer's wolf, not a mummer's dragon, because no one knows Jon is a "dragon", everybody thinks he is a wolf. He is posing as a wolf, as a Stark bastard. Quaithe and the Undying didn't warn Dany against a mummer's wolf, but against a mummer's dragon. They didn't warn her against someone being paraded as a wolf but who is not a real wolf, they warned her against someone being paraded as a dragon but who is not a real dragon (which can only be Young Griff, because there's no other character being paraded as a dragon in the story).

Finally, all of Dany's other prophecies seem to refer to different people. Daughter of Death refers to Viserys, Rhaego (the tall lord with copper skin and silver hair) and Rhaegar (the dying prince with rubies flowing from his chest); Bride of Fire refers to Drogo, probably Hizdahr (the corpse on the ship), and Jon (blue flower in a wall of ice); Slayer of lies seem to refer to Stannis (blue-eyed king with no shadow), Aegon (mummer's dragon) and probably Euron (stone beast breathing shadow fire from a smoking tower). Jon is already in another prophecy, the bride of fire prophecy. It would break the pattern GRRM wrote if he also was the cloth dragon (I'm not saying that it's impossible for GRRM to decide to break the pattern in these prophecies, just that this pattern is another clue that Jon likely won't appear twice and Aegon is the mummer's dragon).

#asoiaf meta #daenerys targaryen #young griff #my meta

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