#rhaegar is good I will fight everyone

[thebadboyfanclub]

Queen Of My Life (Aegon x Reader)

“I will be queen and write history like my ancestor (y/n) Targaryen”

“The story of (y/n) was your brother Rhaegars Favourite, she was known as “the miracle queen”

“The miracle? Why?I’ve only known a few scattered parts of her”

“She is known as the last good leader along with her husband king Aegon, they were the first and only couple that ruled United and seemed to listen to the worries of their subjects”

“She cared for the small folk?”

“The didn’t call her “our sun” for nothing”

-

(Y/n) was not supposed to be born, a child created after the night Rhaenyra laid with Ser Criston Cole, it might sound evil but as her belly grew Rhaenyra wished for the babe to die, to get rid of it.

The babe came out quickly and earlier than expected, a healthy girl that wailed loudly as she fussed and screamed to get away from her mothers grasp, it was almost like the babe had heard every thought her mother had, the hostility that was created as she was growing inside a womb that it’s owner wished she was dead.

The only person that (y/n) truly loved was Laenor, he adored his daughter and spoiled her to no ends, she had everything laid beneath her feet with one click of her fathers fingers, before her dragon hatched Laenor would take her up in the sky just to hear the little girls sequels of bliss.

“You did it!”

(Y/n) bursted in the room with a dagger in her hand, her fathers dagger that she had just lost. Rhaenyra was quick to restrain her daughter from cutting through her chest, the whole room erupted with chaos as the boiling pot that was her daughter temper seemed to have blown up and was ready to burn everyone.

“How dare you blame me?”

“How dare I? You killed my father just to marry your fucking knight in shinning armour”

The scariest part was not (y/n)s tone nor the raised tone that pierced through eardrums, it was that there was no emotion in her eyes, just plain darkness, Rhaenyra was truly backed against the wall to fight for her life.

Criston Cole was the one to thankfully be brave enough to pull (y/n) away, unfortunately due to her erratic movements the princess had managed to cut herself, earning a deep clean cut from bicep to wrist, her cry of pain was deafening as her blood spilled down to the floor, Criston wanted to throw up at the sight of his daughters blood intertwining with mourning for another man she called “father”.

“Take the princess back to her chamber Ser Criston”

The queen commanded him to which he heartedly agreed. Swiftly he lifted her up to hold her in her arms, she was just a kid, a kid that attempted to not only kill her mother, to also strike down the future heir and accuse her of murder, the queen had followed the two with her eyes as the knight exited the room, leaving all of them in despair over the event.

“We should call a maester for the princess”

Alicent suggested mostly to herself as she spoke to a hushed tone, the queen sped to the princesses room to find her laying in her bed while Ser Criston had torn off his cape to stop the bleeding, Criston was a tormented father that had his hands tied when it came to the matter of his daughter, when she was born he knew it in his heart that the babe was his kin, how could a father stand watching his only daughter lay wounded?

On the morrow Rhaenyras family departed for dragon stone, except (y/n) who had requested to stay behind and become the queens lady in waiting, queen Alicent always felt for the young girl who had inherited Cristons eyes, she could somewhat understand why Rhaenyra had a certain grudge against (y/n), to gaze upon your own daughter and see a man you hate.

One of the few times (y/n) was seen smiling was at her wedding with Aegon, Aegon fell for the princess ever since they were young, he had a very special gift from her that started from his thigh down to his knee, (y/n) and Aegon were extremely competitive so one time during training (y/n) requested real swords, Aegon being the arrogant prick he could be lazily swung his swords while (y/n) bend down and landed a nasty cut.

“How does it feel to be my lady wife?”

“Nothing has really changed, except the fact that tonight we have to land a small little cut on you”

(Y/n) and Aegon were drawn to one another long before their wedding, Alicent had betrothed them to shut the rumours of the princesses moans coming from Aegons room, while partially to quickly hide the fact that (y/n) had not bled for two moons.

Aegon giggled at the comment as he took her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles, after that his other hand caressed her still flat belly lovingly, his babe was safely growing inside the woman he loved.

“It’s a boy”

“I did not know I was marrying a witch”

“Heleana saw it, we will name him Saeror”

“Saeror?! What type of name is that?”

“Saeror the future king… has a nice ring to it”

Aegon surprised them all, he became a wonderful lord husband and stood honourably by his wives side through good times and bad times.

Aegon was present when Saeror was born, he had pushed the maester away to hold his babe, he would have never thought that he would take one look at a bloody little thing that resembled a small kitten would make him so happy, Aegon laughed loudly as Saeror wailed his way into the world.

“Saeror, You will be our legacy little one”

Reluctantly he passed the babe to the wet nurses so they can take care of the newborn, carelessly he wiped his hands to his clothes before kneeling in front of his glowing wife who sheepishly smiled at him, content with bringing the future heir to the world without any complications.

Aegon caressed her hair while his other hand held hers tightly, she had blessed him with a new family, (y/n) shed light in his life like the beacon of old town, how wife was the fire that burned him so sweetly.

“A lot of women say they do not wish for their husbands to be in the room while giving birth, it is said men do not look at their wives as women any more”

“I do not view you as a woman, I worship you as a goddess”

“I did good”

“You did wonderful, queen of my life”

-

Rhaenyra had been absent to every important event, the wedding, the birth of (y/n)s first born, any feast that was held for (y/n)s honour Rhaenyra had an excuse to not make an appearance, sending only a letter as a “congratulations”, the bitterness within (y/n) took over her brain towards her mother in a quick pace.

Quite the contrary with her good mother queen Alicent, she had stepped up to take great care of (y/n) and showed her the way to be a queen, Alicent was determined to be the mother she did not have, she was aware of what life was like without that maternal figure and would hate herself if she allowed that curse to be casted upon another woman.

(Y/n) had proven to be restless, giving birth to three sons one after the other. Saeror, Zenea and little Aemond in honour of her good brother who hugged (y/n) tightly and whispered a subtle “thank you” in her ear when they announced the babes name to the court.

“(y/n) and Aegon the generous” where known within kings landing due to visiting orphanages often to take care of the children as well as funding maesters to visit anyone in need of medical care from the small folk, adored by the public was an extremely brilliant move against the heir Rhaenyra who had fled the capital and lived her life hiding away instead of building her claim.

(Y/n) and Aegon were seen with their children and Ser Criston Cole along with Ser Erryk to kings landing, listening to the small folks worries and strolling through paths like common folk, another clever move was throwing feasts for the children’s namedays were everyone was welcomed, the masses were fed and give their blessing to the princes, Lords from all of Westeros would travel to make alliances with the Targaryens, to offer their daughters for the princes.

“Push my love”

“I cannot, I am tired”

“Come on sweetling this is your fourth time in this bed, you are strong”

(Y/n) pushed with all her might while Alicent and Aegon held her hands to support her and pass their strength to her, (y/n) grunted and breathed heavily to push a new life out of her. She fell in her husbands arms once she felt the relief of the babe releasing from her womb, the sound of a newborn weeping would never get old to the couple, Aegon engulfed her with his arms to bring his sweaty mess of a wife in his arms to kiss her temple.

“Praise the mother, my queen you did well”

“Is our boy healthy?”

“A strong boy sweet one”

Alicent reassured the princess as she followed the wet nurses who did the usual routine for the babe before bringing it to the mother. (Y/n) held her new babe in her arms while she was still being held by her husband, tears that were shed from his eyes hit her shoulder.

“What will we name him?”

“I was thinking Naemor”

“Welcome to the family Naemor”

Aegon cooed at the babe who had started to calm down in his mothers arms. Aegon gave another kiss to his wives head, she deserved all the gold in the world for the sacrifices she had made, to create a home for him in her arms and create a human from his seed, she was his miracle.

“Your grace, your presence is requested to the throne room”

“Oh seven hells I completely forgot of the hearing”

“Is that today? We must get ready”

“My love, you are to remain abed”

“No, I will not give her that satisfaction of missing this, help me please or I’ll do this without you”

Aegon had no choice but to comply to his wives wishes and offer his hands for support to get her up on her feet. Ser Criston watched silently for a moment until he mastered the courage to take a few steps to stand next to the princess.

“A boy?”

“Indeed, here”

Carefully (y/n) laid her newborn babe in the knights arms, Criston could not believe his eyes, a fourth grandchild was presented to him, he was as perfect as the rest of them, they were times that he had cursed himself for what he had done, to fall for Rhaenyras act and entertain it to the point that he risked the highest honour and toyed with his life, this is the moment that gave his life meaning, to see your daughter prevail and become the strongest Targaryen of the entire kingdom.

Once the wet nurses were excused and (y/n) dressed in her gown with the assistance of her husband Criston stayed in the room to rock the babe for as long as he could, away from the prude eyes of the servants.

“You have a beautiful family… princess”

“Aegon could you please take the babe?”

Aegon gladly reached for the babe to cradle him in his arms, the newborn had drifted off to slumber as he was safely rocked by his grandfather.

(Y/n) froze in her spot for a moment as she eyeballed the knight who also did not move a muscle, it was her that fell in his arms for a tight hug. She was not dim witted, the stories had reached her ears ever since she was a toddler, Criston was there for every step of her life, protecting his kin from the shadows.

“I will take revenge for you, do not worry… father”

Criston only caressed her long dirty blonde hair, it was very few times that (y/n) could truly show affection to her biological father, after such an emotional event of giving birth Criston was one of the closest people she had, her true father that was there for her more than her mother had ever been.

“You mustn’t walk in your condition, I’ll carry you there”

“No I-“

“Hush now princess I’ll let you down before the doors agape”

It was pointless to put on a fuss, her father had her off her feet in a blink of an eye while her husband Aegon was on their side with the newborn babe. Soon enough they reached the throne room doors and Criston Cole kept his promising by allowing the princess to stand by herself.

“Princess (y/n) and prince Aegon of house Targaryen”

As the doors unlatched to reveal the couple (y/n) felt like her “family” threw daggers from their eyes to the princess, a part of her wanted to know what was it that she had done that cause such hatred, the other part was quite content with her own family.

“I apologise for the interruption your grace, we happily announce the birth of our newborn son Naemor”

“A fourth son… let me see”

“Allow me my moon”

(Y/n) mumbled to Aegon as asked for their son to take him up to the stairs to the frail grandsire. (Y/n) was in agony the minute she took a step in the room, labour was one of the most excruciating pains she had experienced, however no one could see her pain, the prideful princess smiled as she bend the knee to let the king gaze upon the child.

“A strong son from the most beloved couple of the realm”

“You honour me your grace”

“I believe we need to circle back to the reason we are all gathered here”

“I can understand it might bring a certain uneasiness to you that you are not the centre of attention, still do allow your own daughter to present her son-your fourth grandson- to the king -our father-“

Aegon snapped at his half sister, (y/n) smirked at the sharp jab her husband had landed. Aegon would go to war for his family, he had grown to be a man because of the influence (y/n) had on him, she made him stronger, sharper, a proper king and a protector of the realm.

(Y/n) was proud of the man she had married, she had to admit that when she was to be wed to him she feared for her future, what if Aegons passion for her burned out? What if his taste for wine got the best of him?

Questions that clouded her judgement had kept her up until the dawn of her wedding day, now there he was, not an ounce of quiver as he went toe to toe with Rhaenyra to defend his queen.

“We have decided as a union that our presence is important since we would officially want to announce that we side with prince Jacaerys when it comes to the claim of driftmark”

“What?”

“My brother is the second born of our family, our… late father Laenor had wished for him to inherit it, the power of the ocean runs through our veins”

“What do you know of Velaryon blood princess? I could cut my wrists and you would still not recognise it”

“ I only recognise the blood of a man like Laenor, a knight that fought to defend the realm against the common foe, I do not wish to witness the blood of a villainous brother that stops at nothing to gain power”

(Y/n) had stepped down from the throne that her grandsire was occupying, Aegon paced quickly to her to take their son from her with one hand while the other snaked it’s way around her waist for support, he was observant enough to pick up on the slight trembling of her hands, she was growing tired and the argument of Ser Vaemond was not helping.

“Enough!”

The king declared as loud as he could with the combination of stomping his cane to the ground for a louder pause to the heated conversation. (Y/n) and Aegon turned their backs on Ser Vaemond in order to face the king out of respect, (y/n) even leaned her head to Aegons shoulder to get closer to him, his musk scent was a familiar thing she could focus as she was feeling her knees fighting to keep her up.

“I have heard enough, it is a day to celebrate not to kill each other. I hereby reaffirm Prince Jacaerys of house Velaryon as the future heir of lord of the tides, I should also announce that prince Aegon with his lady wife princess (y/n) of house Targaryen will be declared as my… heirs to the throne… after me”

“It cannot be”

“Aegon and (y/n) have proved themselves worthy of the throne… Rhaenyra, my sweet daughter… you will inherit the… Step-ahhh”

“Call the maesters!”

Aegon felt his wife tense at the scene that was playing in front of them, the time she had always been waiting for was happening, her grandsire was announcing her as his heir instead of Rhaenyra.

The grunts of agony that shook the room from her grandsire caused the small babe to start fussing, wails erupting from her new born son while Aegon started to lightly bounce the babe in his arms.

“Hush little one, you father is here”

“We must go, come my moon”

(Y/n) took Aegons hand to lead him out of the throne room while everyone was preoccupied with tending to her grandsire the king, her pain however caused a flinch while a hiss was uttered from her causing her to come to a halt.

“You need to rest”

“We do not have time for that”

“I do not care what you say, the throne will be there after you take a bath and sleep for a few hours, Ser Criston take my wife in our chambers, I will handle the rest”

-

“So the king died right after he declared a new heir?”

“Correct”

“If he had announced it to the court as you say, why did war ensue?”

“Princess Rhaenyra fled to dragon stone with her family to call banners for support to her claim, the king had passed before the official ceremony could take place”

“And what of queen (y/n)?”

“Her and king Aegon were crowned before the masses at dawn, the small folk cheered at the announcement of that the couple were crowned as king and queen of the realm, men offered to be trained as knights to protect the new queen against princess Rhaenyra”

“So a mother and a daughter went to war”

“Queen (y/n) was known for one phrase”

“The blood in the veins is thicker than the water in the womb”

“The Beloved queen was an intriguing character, a powerful woman with endless potential, her story is the second most astonishing one after Aegon the conqueror”

Requests are open!

[runningmunson]

My Fierce Lady - Part 2

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 1.7k Summary: After the events of your attack, you felt helpless. You asked Aemond to teach you to fight so you can gain some control back into your life and finally feel brave. Part 2 of My Fierce Lady. Warnings: traumatized reader, mentions of previous attack, use of a sword, slight angst, fluff, soft Aemond

Masterlist

Agony. You were in agony. Everything had been so different since you were attacked and forced to take a man’s life. Anyone would change if it had happened to them, you believed. Aemond reminded you daily that you are strong and brave, that you and your children were still alive and breathing, and that the man was in the ground where he belonged because of you. Yet you still lived in fear every day, terrified that someone would strike again, but you wouldn’t be so lucky. 

That’s not to say that your husband and his family didn't try to make you feel safe. Your personal guards had been doubled. You were seldom left alone. You wouldn't step into your chambers, so they allowed you to move rooms. They exhausted resources to find whoever plotted to attack the Targaryen household. However, their attempts were futile. They never found who did it, and no matter what they did, you never truly felt safe.

Nightmares often plagued you. Too many nights you dreamed of Maelehra being murdered. You soon followed, only to be woken screaming and crying in the arms of Aemond as he tried to calm you. Your stress and anxiety were so severe that the maester put you on bed rest until the birth of your son. 

You thought things would be better after you brought your son, Rhaegar, into the world, basking in the joys of a newborn, a male heir for your husband. You were sorely mistaken. The maester chalked it up to melancholy as your body adjusted to a new state of motherhood. The royal family tried to keep it hidden. Everything was always kept in the family, never wanted to reveal their personal weaknesses to outsiders. But it was hard to ignore the whispers around the Red Keep with rumors of you going crazy and behaving worse than your sister-in-law, Helaena. 

You spent a lot of time with Helaena in her chambers, doing needlework as your children played on the floor together with the nannies. Rhaegar was usually fast asleep in his cradle. You had a feeling your mother-in-law, the Queen, had something to do with your time spent behind closed doors, not that you minded too much. You dearly loved Helaena and preferred her company over the other ladies in court. 

—

For once, you were having a good day. Your anxiety was at bay and manageable. The children were behaving excellently. You knew everyone was safe, and you finally settled in once you checked several times that there were two guards outside the door.

“That looks quite lovely, sister! You stitch our sigil far better than I could,” Helaena’s eyes were wide as she smiled brightly, complimenting your work. You were working on embroidering the Targaryen sigil on a new dress for Mae. 

“That is very kind of you to say. Your spider looks exquisite,” you smiled back at her. You genuinely meant it. While you did not share the same affinity for insects, you were always enthusiastic about her interests and ready to learn.

“Thank you, it’s a zebra spider. We have these in our garden,” she replied, then returned to her work. 

It was relatively quiet in the room, with an occasional sound coming from the children. All your focus was on the dress until your concentration was broken. The door opened without anyone knocking, and an unknown man stepped inside the room. 

You immediately stood up, a scream slipped from your lips. It startled your son awake, and he started crying. Your heart was racing, and you felt as if you could be sick. No, you thought, this cannot be happening again. As quick as you stood, you backed into a corner. You sat down with your hands over your ears and eyes tightly squeezed shut. 

Helaena shooed the man out of the room and told the nannies to remove the children. She slowly approached you, afraid to disturb you even more. You could see her mouth moving but heard no sound. The only thing you could hear was ringing. Tears welled up in your eyes. She turned to the guards and demanded they go get her brother at once.

Aemond made his way to his sister’s chambers in record time. “I am so sorry, Aemond. It was a new servant, he didn't knock first.”

“It’s fine, Helaena.” He looked at you, seeing you in a catatonic-like state. Your hands had not moved from their spot on your head, but your eyes were now wide open, blankly staring at the wall. It made him angry to see you as a shell of what you once were, no longer the carefree and lively woman he fell in love with. He turned to his sister, “May you give us some space please?”

Helaena left the room, and Aemond made his way to you. He crouched down, blocking your vision of the wall. Your eyes finally focused when you saw your husband in front of you and not another stranger coming to kill you. He reached up to take your hands off your face, noticing the scratch marks your nails left behind. With your hands in his, he gently kissed the back of both. 

“I’m here now, love. I got you. You are safe. Nothing is going to hurt you,” he spoke in a soft, calming voice- one reserved for only you and your children. The words he spoke were familiar as he often said these like a mantra in the dark of your room after your nightmares. You threw yourself in his arms, catching him off guard as he almost fell. He steadied himself and pulled you in close, once more repeating those words.

When your heart was steady and mind clear, he pulled you up to the ground and led you to the comforts of your own chamber. As soon as the door was shut, you turned to him. 

“I cannot do this any longer,” you said to him, voice cracking in desperation.

“Do what, my dear?” he questioned.

“Live in fear, no longer feeling safe in my own home. I wish to be free of this anguish! I want to feel as brave as you say I am. I want you to teach me how to fight,” you said to him. It was something you had thought about for some time but too afraid to address until now.

“I don’t know,” he said hesitantly. 

You knew it was unbecoming of a lady such as yourself to fight, but you were at a complete loss at what to do. It wasn’t as if Aemond thought that of you though. He always believed you could do anything you wanted. He never tried to control you or put you in your place unlike the other men of the court. Fighting could be dangerous, and he just wanted to protect you. 

“Please, Aemond. I need this. If you love me, you will grant me this wish,” you begged him, grabbing his hands and looking into his eye. You needed nothing more than to gain back some control of your life.

He nodded his head, “Then I will do just that, I promise you.”

—

Aemond led you to an empty room in the castle. You were adorned in pants and a tunic, your hair in a single braid falling down your back. He was finally going to teach you how to fight with a sword.

When you made your way into the room, he shut the door behind you for privacy. You noticed a few weapons were already laid on a table. There was a dummy filled with sand in the middle of the room as well. 

“Now, today we will learn the basics of defense, just a simple thrust and slice. Let’s go pick you a sword,” he walked over to the table. and you followed. You knew how heavy swords could be, having handled Aemond’s sword once to see what it was like and almost dropped it in the process. 

He handed you several, having you do a few mock swings to see which one felt best in your hands. You picked a lighter sword, the blade a typical silver color with a black and red hilt. The pommel housed a blue jewel. How fitting, you thought when you noticed it was similar in color to the sapphire where your husband’s eye once was.

When you were satisfied with your choice, you made your way to the middle of the room where Aemond was waiting. With the sword placed tightly in your hand, he led you into the proper stance. He used his leg to move your feet where he wanted them. His back found its way flush against yours. One arm wrapped around your waist to straighten you out. The other helped you hold your sword to the correct height, pointing to where you needed to strike. Whiffs of your scent flooded his nose as he held you close. You were disappointed when he pulled away.

“Alright, keep that stance. This should be an easy one. Draw your arm back and simply thrust it forward,” he said, his hands placed firmly behind your back. He was intensely watching your every move, making you a bit nervous. You drew back the sword and plunged it into the chest of the dummy. When you removed the sword, sand spilled on the ground. 

“Good, you have just defended yourself. Now put yourself back into the same position, and I’ll show you how to slice,” he explained the movements once more and let you do your thing. 

You stood the way he told you, doing a spin to gain momentum before slicing either side of the dummy. Once more, sand flowed from the cuts. Aemond started clapping. You turned to smile at him, finally starting to feel a small amount of control for the first time since your attack.

“My, oh my. Who knew the Gods blessed me with a wife who is a natural in the art of the sword,” he smiled, looking proud.

You laughed, “ Well, I have watched you practice in the courtyard often, my dear husband. Maybe I can be as good as you one day.”

“I’ll make a fighter out of you in no time, my fierce lady.”

[rise-my-angel]

I find it so funny when people call Jon Snow a bastard as an insult as if the show and book shows that you shouldn’t discriminate people based on their birth. I’m looking at you, targ stans. Like he might be a bastard, but he is a better man than most of the true born Targaryens.

That's the thing, Jon being a bastard isn't just about the secret of his birth. It's all about Jon starting the story as an outcast, and finally finding a place in the world amongst other outcasts and unique people. His early friendly kinship with Tyrion, finding a genuine brother in Sam, befriending people like Grenn, Pyp, Tormund. And how by not looking down on them the way the world does him, he grows into a leader. One of the only leaders who can handle the threat to come.

Jons story isn't about getting passed being a bastard or becoming trueborn named anything. Its about Jon realizing that he became the man he is, while being a bastard. That despite everyone trying to put him down for it, he still pushed passed and rose up. It's about Jon learning being a bastard isn't good or bad, it's simply about the man he strives to become.

Also Targ stans the way they talk about Jon Snow is..odd. They seem to only like him if he can be molded into a Targaryean and nothing else. But he is everything they aren't. They are obsessed with blood purity and blood superiority, ruling through cruelty and fear, obessed with prophecy and status. Jon doesn't care about any of those things.

Also, the Targaryeans are obsessed with their blood purity so much it's led to the rampant, destructive levels of incest which almost caused their house to go extinct. When Rhaenyra very obviously had bastards, instead of fighting for her bastard childrens rights, she got violent and cruel at the insinuation of the truth being told to the point she wanted to torture her young half brother for simply repeating something his mother told him.

Even her kids must know their own mother looks down on them for being bastards, because if she wasn't, she wouldn't be trying to pass them off as trueborn. Jon did not need to be a Stark for Ned to love him and include him as much as he could within the family home. Ned literally raised Jon to be the Kevan to Robbs Tywin. Ned wanted Jon to be Robbs right hand man, his closest advisor. And he never needed Jon to be a Stark to start teaching and preparing him for that.

The Targaryeans don't respect bastards so much it's literally what caused the Blackfyre rebellions. Their stans just don't seem to grasp that all of this shows it is bad to judge someone for being a bastard.

They only care about Jon if he will call himself a Targaryean and be just like Rhaegar. But they miss the point. He only has one name and it's Jon Snow.

Because that is what his father named him, and he never had to become a Stark to grow into the man he is and could become.

But Targ stans don't quite seem to care about the conversation of bastards outside of the very specific times said bastards are directly involved in house Targaryean like in the Dance or the Blackfyres. Otherwise, they flip flop on the matter with Jon because they don't really care about him unless he resigns himself to being a true Targaryean.

Which is SILLY.

[atopvisenyashill]

Harrenhal will be the new seat of what’s left of the Seven Kingdoms at the ending.

I know a few people have already said bits and pieces of this but I wanted to get everything in one post for my own sanity lmao. There’s three kind of main branches to this theory: geographical reasons, historical reasons, and reasons specific to King Bran theories.

Geography surrounding Harrenhal

It’s the center of everything! Let me show you on the map because i’m a visual learner:

Ignore the North and Dorne and probably the Iron Islands too, bc the first two are not gonna be part of The Seven Kingdoms anymore and the Iron Islands is…gonna be a fucking mess lmao. Lemme zoom in:

It’s a very centralized point in the Riverlands but it’s also fairly centralized to the Crownlands (which will probably get absorbed into the others), the Stormlands, the Eyrie, the Reach, and the Westerlands. It makes sense, from a geographical standpoint, that if the lords need to choose a new ruling seat - and they will no matter what, because King’s Landing is gonna go boom - that a more centralized location for easier access to the capital would be their decision.

The Riverlands is also an excellent choice in general because geographically, they are always getting screwed due to being right in the middle of everyone. They get fucked during the Dance, the Blackfyre Rebellions, Robert’s Rebellion, AND the War of the Five Kings. The only area that really gets screwed over more during the various wars is probably the Dornish Marches, because of the conflicts between the stony Dornishmen and the Storm and Reacher Lords but you can’t really set up there because it’s too far from the Eyrie and Riverlands.

And the thing about the Riverlands is that part of why it gets fucked up is that it’s right in the middle of everything and has no natural defenses. The Eyrie has the mountains, the North has their snow, the Dornish has their desert. The Reach manages to stay out of a lot of fighting because that’s where the food is (although the Iron Islands are about to screw them, but that’s because the war has spiraled out of control) and while both the Stormlands and the Westerlands have seen big battles, they have some protection in their coasts, which gives them ships that the Riverlands just can’t quite access. Having the King set up in the Riverlands gives the smallfolk of the Riverlands some much needed protection and potentially, a break from all the fighting.

So the Riverlands is a good place to set up shop, but Harrenhal specifically? Well, that’s because it’s huge:

Every child of the Trident knew the tales told of Harrenhal, the vast fortress that King Harren the Black had raised beside the waters of Gods Eye three hundred years past, when the Seven Kingdoms had been seven kingdoms, and the riverlands were ruled by the ironmen from the islands. In his pride, Harren had desired the highest hall and tallest towers in all Westeros. Forty years it had taken, rising like a great shadow on the shore of the lake while Harren's armies plundered his neighbors for stone, lumber, gold, and workers. Thousands of captives died in his quarries, chained to his sledges, or laboring on his five colossal towers. Men froze by winter and sweltered in summer. Weirwoods that had stood three thousand years were cut down for beams and rafters. Harren had beggared the riverlands and the Iron Islands alike to ornament his dream. And when at last Harrenhal stood complete, on the very day King Harren took up residence, Aegon the Conqueror had come ashore at King's Landing.

If it’s going to be the capital, it has to be somewhere that can hold a whole lot of people and Harrenhal is ginormous and perfect for holding lots of people. It’s even happened before; part of why Lord Whent stages his big tourney where Lyanna is crowned queen of love and beauty is because likely because Ser Oswell Whent, his brother on the Kingsguard, asked him to stage an excuse to get all the Lords together so Rhaegar could discuss with them what to do about his father and Harrenhal is the biggest castle they can do that in outside of King’s Landing. From The Kingbreaker chapter:

Old Lord Whent had announced the tourney shortly after a visit from his brother, Ser Oswell Whent of the Kingsguard. With Varys whispering in his ear, King Aerys became convinced that his son was conspiring to depose him, that Whent's tourney was but a ploy to give Rhaegar a pretext for meeting with as many great lords as could be brought together.

It’s also built up to be sturdier than King’s Landing. Whereas King’s Landing was kind of haphazardly thrown together as it built up over the years, Harren the Black had always meant for a lot of people to be housed there. We see how many people can live in it during Arya’s chapters as she runs around inside of it and Harrentown and this is with a ruler who has no interest in keeping a lot of people in it. With a King or Queen living there, it opens itself up to growing in a much more easily defensible way than King’s Landing.

Historical Reasons Harrenhal is Significant

As you can see on the map, it’s built right on the edge of a very important place: The Isle of Faces and the lake that surrounds it, called the Gods Eye.

It’s a key place for the history of Westeros because it’s where the First Men and the Children of the Forest made peace:

Inexorably, the war ground on across generations, until at last the children understood that they could not win. The First Men, perhaps tired of war, also wished to see an end to the fighting. The wisest of both races prevailed, and the chief heroes and rulers of both sides met upon the isle in the Gods Eye to form the Pact…

It’s also notable for being the only place the Andals never managed to conquer:

It is possible that a few [Children of the Forest] survived on the Isle of Faces, as some have written, under the protection of the green men, whom the Andals never succeeded in destroying.

It’s a place associated with peace and negotiations between people, a place to stand strong against war and untouched by its horrors. A monument to what could be, if you will. And Harrenhal sits on its shore; it would add a very rich layer to setting up King’s Landing in a place associated with peace. And this isn’t the only time a succession crisis of sorts is settled there. The Great Council of 101 AC was held there.

To resolve the matter of his heir once and for all, Jaehaerys called the first Great Council in the year 101 AC, to put the matter before the lords of the realm. And from all corners of the realm the lords came. No castle could hold so many save for Harrenhal, so it was there that they gathered. The lords, great and small, came with their trains of bannermen, knights, squires, grooms, and servants. And behind them came yet more—the camp followers and washerwomen, the hawkers and smiths and carters. Thousands of tents sprang up over the moons, until the castle town of Harrenton was accounted the fourth largest city of the Realm.

Once again, we have Harrenhal associated with peace and negotiation in its history. However, that’s not all it’s associated with; there are several very significant battles that take place near the Gods Eye - again, it is in the middle of everything. It’s a place with lots of history and lots of ties to everyone in Westeros. There’s the Battle Beneath the Gods Eye between Maegor and Aegon the Uncrowned, The Battle of the Lake Shore and The Battle Over the Gods Eye during the Dance, as well as the story of Addam Velaryon landing Seasmoke on the Isle of Faces to take counsel from the green men after being accused of treason. It is, all in all, a very significant place in Westeros.

But that’s not the only reason Harrenhal is talked about. Basically every single time Harrenhal is brought up, someone will mention that it’s haunted. This belief comes because of Aegon the Conquerer and Harren the Black. While Orys Baratheon and Rhaenys march for the Stormlands & Daemon Velaryon and Visenya left for the Vale, Aegon himself first turns towards Harren the Black and the Riverlands. All three face opposition but Aegon conquers the Riverlands first because Harren is so ill loved:

So now the riverlands rose against him, led by Lord Edmyn Tully of Riverrun. Summoned to the defense of Harrenhal, Tully declared for House Targaryen instead, raised the dragon banner over his castle, and rode forth with his knights and archers to join his strength to Aegon’s. His defiance gave heart to the other riverlords. One by one, the lords of the Trident renounced Harren and declared for Aegon the Dragon. Blackwoods, Mallisters, Vances, Brackens, Pipers, Freys, Strongs … summoning their levies, they descended on Harrenhal.

And he makes very quick work of Harrenhal, making it the first Kingdom to become part of the Seven Kingdoms:

The riverlords outside the castle walls said later that the towers of Harrenhal glowed red against the night, like five great candles … and like candles, they began to twist and melt, as runnels of molten stone ran down their sides.

Ever since the burning of Harrenhal, no House has been able to hold it without going extinct soon after. For House Targaryen’s rule in Westeros to start with Harren the Black’s hubris and the fall of Harrenhal, and end with Harrenhal becoming the new seat of the King of the Four (??) Kingdoms is a really neat connection.

Reasons Why It Works With King Bran

But wait! you say. Didn’t you just say that Harrenhal is cursed??

Why yes I did. HOWEVER. There is one family that the Curse of Harrenhal supposedly never touched: The Whents.

You see, from Harren the Black up until the Whents, every other House in charge of it has gone extinct.

House Hoare? That’s Harren’s house and we all know what happened there - they don’t call him Balerion the Black Dread for no reason.

House Qoherys? Dead less than three decades later.

House Harroway? Wiped out a decade later.

House Towers? died out within two decades, ending with sickly Maegor Towers and then old and tired Rhaena Targaryen, until the two odd friends died and the holdings were free again.

House Strong? Well…between the fire that kills Harwin and Lyonel, Larys’ shenanigans getting him merced by Cregan, and Aemond just straight committing a minor genocide in the Riverlands, they all died out (except maybe Alys Rivers’ baby but we don’t have any info there).

House Lothston? Interestingly, they hold the castle for several decades, but they too went completely extinct under King Maekar.

So we come to House Whent. They’ve held it for about 6 ish decades and though they’ve also had some bad luck, they’ve had their people grow old - Walter Whent who threw the tourney is called “Old Lord Whent” by Barristan, and Shella Whent is old when she dies. But the most interesting thing is Minisa Whent.

We don’t know a lot about the Whent line, only that Shella refused to bend the knee to Joffrey, fled Harrenhal when it was attacked, and later died. You could say the curse still got them but in every other case, the whole line dies, not just the main line! Even Janos Slynt has no descendants and Littlefinger will have none to inherit either. But the Whents do: they have House Tully. Minisa Whent married Hoster Tully and had Catelyn and Edmure. The Whents are known for their sharp cheekbones and both Catelyn and Sansa, funny enough, are described as having sharp cheekbones. This very close relation could mean that the Starklings have a claim to Harrenhal through their mother.

This fits with King Bran because we know the lords are perfectly fine fudging things and going through the female line if it fits their needs. They did the same thing with Robert and his grandmother Rhaelle Targaryen, who married Ormund Targaryen, Steffon’s mother. Renly says here:

Oh, there was talk of the blood ties between Baratheon and Targaryen, of weddings a hundred years past, of second sons and elder daughters. No one but the maesters care about any of it.

The maesters love a loophole inheritance.

And remember that the odds of surviving the books for the Baratheons and Targaryens is very, very low. It’s pretty much just bastards all the way down (on both sides lmao, because I do not think either Young Griff or Dany are gonna survive). And whenever the inheritance isn’t clear, a Great Council is called. Catelyn even suggested it while parlying with the Baratheons:

Let the three of you call for a Great Council, such as the realm has not seen for a hundred years. We will send to Winterfell, so Bran may tell his tale and all men may know the Lannisters for the true usurpers. Let the assembled lords of the Seven Kingdoms choose who shall rule them.

Mentioning Bran, of course. A lot of people think it’s far fetched and while I do think him being so young is gonna be a hard sell now that the time jump is gone, I don’t think it’s that far fetched that the lords of the Stormlands, The Reach, the Eyrie, and The Westerlands would be convinced to choose Hoster Tully’s grandson and Ned Stark’s baby boy to rule over them.

And finally, Robb wasn’t called “Robb Stark, King in the North” he was also explicitly called “King of the Trident.” All the talk about who is Robb’s heir but look at how they all think of themselves - “as brave as Robb” “as strong as Robb” or they’ll have sons and name them Robb. Whereas Who Rules The North is all tied up in Robb’s legacy, the Iron Throne isn’t! If King Bran rules from the Riverlands, however, it gives Bran that tie to Robb; he gets to protect and rule from the lands Robb swore to protect, the lands he ultimately fought and died in. For Bran, he still gets to be Robb’s heir, at least in spirit, and I think that would be, to Bran, something very bittersweet.

[infinitestalia]

Why do you support aegon who is a rapist but you hate rhaegar. Both cheated on their wives to rape other women. And aegons bastards definitely would put helaena’s children in danger. It’s almost sad how much their stories parallel.

I find this line of questioning disingenuous because if you knew my opinion, you'd know that, unlike Rhaegar fans, I've never said Aegon is a good king or person and do not "support" him, but he can be a great character. Everyone in this story is varying degrees of horrific and reap what they sow. My issue is that Aegon is framed as a cartoonish monster from the go, specifically to further prop up Rhaenyra (while PEDOPHILE Daemon, evil in ways Aegon can only dream of, is some "cool" grandpa), and to condemn Alicent, rather than his rapist father Viserys. Are we not sick of them making every third character a rapist, deliberately or accidentally, as shock value or an edgy writing device? The entire point of the Dance is that both are terrible leaders, two cheeks of the same arse, if you will, yet one side is given the worst interpretation and the other white washed (why are Daemon/Corlys/Rhaenys/Viserys/Rhaenyra not condemned for ANYTHING?). If we're going by Mushroom's accounts, will Rhaenyra have Alicent and Helaena gang raped? I thought not. So why Aegon?

I like characters like Littlefinger, Tywin, Joffrey, etc, who are worse than Aegon and Rhaegar combined. This is ASOIAF, even your fan favourites like Tyrion and the Hound are despicable rapists/murderers/pedos. My issue is when the narrative/fan base will absolve certain characters for the same things that others are condemned for. Aegon- grey/villain- being a run of the mill, Robert Baratheon type tramp as king, in an inevitable civil war he's essentially just another pawn in and is never absolved for his crimes, is not the same as Rhaegar- a so called hero- impregnating a noblewoman, starting a war and it being framed as justified because it was for "love". THAT'S my problem.

And Aegon is just more interesting to me, he is a bunch of fascinating contradictions. The most self aware character on the show, knows all his deficiencies, yet he is incapable of betterment, preferring to stay stuck in a cycle of anger, self pity and loathing. A drunkard, who is the only one who sees the throne for what it is and does not want it. Infinitely far from a moral man as we saw, but the one Targaryen seemingly sickened by incest. He is sent over the edge in rage and grief over the loss of a child he never bothered to love when he was alive, the cycle of neglect he continues from his own father. Wants to please his mother and craves her affection, but all he ever does is cause her pain. Weak and seemingly cowardly, but brave enough to fight his own battles. Depressed, crippled and burned with no desire to live, yet refuses to die. Starved of affection and desperate to be loved, while never really doing anything to be worthy of it. He has few redeeming qualities, but the most beautiful and significant bond between dragon/rider is given to him. With one of the best actors on the show in Tom Glynn Carney, good writers would be able to bring that to life as a bitter tragedy, and yet they have failed at every turn. You don't need to be a good person to be a compelling character.

[darylandbethfanforever9]

Most Hated Targaryens:

Viserys Targaryen: Viserys was a child sex offender who ruined Aemma and Alicent, destroyed his children and caused a civil war that directly caused the extinction of dragons.

Daemon Targaryen: Daemon is a sex offender and openly lusts after his fourteen year old niece, kills his first wife and emotionally abused his second wife. Plus he strangled Rhaenyra and didn’t comfort her when Visenya was stillborn. Also, Daemon murdered an innocent six year old.

Aegon III: I strongly believe he murdered Jaehaera and he wasn’t liked by the small folk for a reason.

Baela Targaryen: She’s a bully and in the books it’s confirmed she visits the child fighting pits and celebrated Jaehaerys being murdered.

Daena Targaryen: Spoilt young woman who acted like her paternal grandmother and not in a good way, gave birth to a bastard who would cause issues. Plus, she didn’t care about Naerys or Aemon.

Aegon IV: The man was a disgusting piece of work who raped his wife, raped her ladies and caused a civil war.

Aerys Targaryen: He raped his wife, terrorised everyone and murdered thousands of people with wildfire. Jaime Lannister even says that his father was afraid of Aerys to a degree. I strongly believe Aerys raped Joanna Lannister and fathered Tyrion.

Rhaegar Targaryen: Kidnapped a fifteen year old girl, forcibly impregnated her and abandoned both her and Elia. Elia and Lyanna deserve better.

[countrymusiclover]

40 - Rhaegar and Lyanna’s Child

Part 41

The Lion Knight and Dragon Princess

Tags- just send an ask to be added @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea

“What do you think we should do now that the dead are defeated?”  I mean surely we can’t keep making the children at such a young age cross the world.”  Jaime questioned me while we walked through the ground area of the training yard.  

It had been a few months since the greatest battle of the world of men.  Everyone who had fought during the battle was very exhausted and so Sansa, Jon and I had declared that everyone should rest before we planned the advance on Kings Landing.  “We can’t possibly leave them here.  They’re all still very young and need us to be there for them until they come of age.” 

“You make a good point, Vaella.  I must say your brother was most likely right that you will make a fine Queen.” Jaime shifted his gaze down to mine as we walked side by side one another very much in sync since we’d known each other for many years. 

The fabric of my white cloak blew behind me in the wind with me having some of my silver hair pinned back and the rest was loose.  “I appreciate your faith in me, I truly do.  I’m still just not sure I can gain the support of the Northern houses.  They are loyal to their own. I remember that quite well from my years of being a princess.” 

“It seems to me that you have a way in to get their support.  Talk with the bastard who brought us here to fight the Army of the Dead.” He had gotten used to having his longer hair like in the days he was a Knight and he grew a thick blonde beard looking very much like a northman. 

Sending him a slight glare I didn’t think the term bastard fit for Jon anymore.  He had proven he was worthy of the Stark name.  “He’s lived up to the Stark name, Jaime.” 

“Maybe someday someone will make him one.” My husband nodded, intertwining my hand in his real one, hearing someone coming towards us before I saw the man we were talking about getting closer to us with his direwolf Ghost following behind his heels until he reached the two of us. 

“Vaella, Ser Jaime, I figured it was time for you to meet my direwolf Ghost.  Each of the Stark children originally had one and it was my idea.” 

I smiled, lowering myself down on a knee in the snow, extending a hand out to the large wolf. “Hey there, Ghost.” The large wolf slowly came forward pressing his nose into my hand and he made a light noise that didn’t appear to be a growl. 

“Do you have anything else on your agenda for today, Snow?” Jaime raised a brow at the bastard before us. 

Jon shakes his head no before Ghost walked back over and stood by his boots. “Our men need a few more hours of rest before we go to get your sister to surrender her throne to our dragon queens.” 

“I must say I don’t think she’ll give it up as easily as you think.” He reminded him knowing his sister had craved such power for a long time and now she was officially Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

Pushing myself upright before the two men I made my way up to Jon feeling like we needed to talk. “Jon, would you follow me?  I think it’s time you and I have a talk alone together.” 

“Sure, lady Vaella.” Jon nodded his head at me before Ghost, Jon and I made our way down into the crypt so that we weren’t disturbed by anyone else during our deep conversation.  Ghost laid down on the floor a few steps away from us while Jon and I stood in front of the Lyanna Stark statue that was down here. “She was my fathers sister.  He never talked about her though.” 

“I only met her one time.  The day she wed my brother Rhaegar and I wed Jaime.” I muttered twisting the wedding ring on my left hand weakly smiling at the memory. 

Jon glanced at me. “So he didn't kidnap her like they said?” 

“Gods no.  It wasn't anywhere close to that.  He loved her so much.  The fact that he was already married to a Martel wasn't a worry to him.  He'd give up his crown and kingdom to simply be with her.  If he could sing his whole life instead of sword fighting that's what he would have done.” 

Jon sent me a weak smile. “He sounds like quite a man.  He must have been an amazing brother.” 

“He really was.  You remind me very much of him, funny enough.  Did your father ever say who your mother was, her name by chance?” I questioned him with a raised brow. 

Jon knitted his brows in confusion. “What are you trying to tell me, Vaella?” 

“Jon, I think you're my nephew.  You would have to be the son of my brother Rhaegar and Lyanna.  The prince who was promised in the song of ice and fire.”  Reaching down to my hip I drew the dagger out holding it up to be in his view.  “This belongs to you because you defeated the great winter that is the Night King.” 

Jon gently took the blade from my grasp. “How do you know that?” 

“Because my brother told me in a letter before he died.  I didn’t quite get it the first time I read it.  But now it’s more clear than ever.” 

Something was tapping multiple times against the closed glass window of my chambers that showed me the entire view of the city almost.  Getting out of my bed once I had tossed the covers. “What are you doing out here, little Raven?” Pushing open the window I let the bird crawl into my hand seeing a tiny scroll and a lock of silver Targaryen hair wrapped around it. 

“Dear Vaella,  I am not sure if I will come back from this battle with Robert Baratheon so I have one final thing to ask of you, my little sister.  Lyanna is pregnant with my child and I’m not sure I’ll ever get to meet him.  So my last request is will you look out for him please - your brother Rhaegar.” I read the paper out loud feeling tears welling in my eyes knowing I needed to figure out who the prince or princess who was promised really was. 

“What if I told you I already knew that you and I were family.  Daenerys, Tyrion, Sam and Bran all know too.  Apparently the three eyed Raven showed my brother your wedding with my real parents.” Jon grins, turning his body till he was directly facing me. 

Throwing my arms around his neck I chuckled, never thinking I’d meet my brother's son who I thought was killed when Robert became king.  “Your father would be so proud of what you’ve done, Jon Targaryen.” He wrapped his arms around my waist holding me close. 

[bucknastysbabe]

it's still me, sorry.

ancient rome with viserys III (he just has that twink senator build, I am telling ya)

YES TWINKY SELF IMPORTANT VIZZY III YOUR BRAIN MAKES MY GO SPLOOSH, also I took a while bc 1. Work 2. I get wayyyy too invested into research! So I hope you enjoy xoxoxoxxo

AU Bingo - Ancient Rome - Viserys III

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Imperial Rome setting, Viserys is an angry lil asshole, too much background building, aphrodisiacs, arranged marriage, pnv!sex, enemies to lovers, hate sex, they’re both bottoms they’ll figure it out later, background Jorah and Illyrio, dany living her best life!, orgy time, I hope that was a good offering to Cupid

A/N: Tumblr is full of smart people but I still marked stuff that might need a translation or explanation:)

Viserys Targaryen. The third. Bred well from a long line of Emperors. The dynasty had ended when his mad father was struck down by the Praetorian* guard meant to protect the man. He was a mere senator now, the Baratheon family forcing him into submission. Damnatio Memoriae* for Aerys and his eldest son Rhaegar.

Everyone knew you could flip a coin to decide if a Targaryen would be mad or not. Viserys, although smart and a respected senator, definitely leant towards the unwanted side of the sestertius*. Regardless, the man had enough allies to secure his position in aedileship* and keep the family estate. His little sister had been married off to some obscenely rich warlord king outside of Roman lines, further padding the man’s pockets.

He walked around like an inflated peacock with his purple striped toga, dreaming of revenge and retaking the grand palace. Not married, still young, and quite mean from all accounts. Rumors flew that he was the passive cinaedus* of his longtime Gaulish slave. But you had your eyes on the fool regardless of who said what.

Recently arrived from the ever growing Hispania Baetica*, your father, a powerful proconsul* had sent you with a retainer to find a husband. Your aunt was married to Rhaegar Targaryen, and there was a promise for your hand to Viserys.

There was a catch. Viserys was not made aware of this pact. All of the details ands plans were burnt up during the violent overthrow of mad Aerys. Greek fire everywhere from the accounts. Your sister and her babes had perished from the Lion of Rome’s horrid beast of a soldier.

Elia was gone now, you reminded yourself. Oberyn kept her memory alive much too much but you grinned and bared it. He accompanied you with his lover and only two of his many bastards. Viserys was to be hosting you all in his grand manse upon the Esquiline Hill*. He knew the power of your family and sought to gain more status.

A plethora of slaves tended to your baggage and personal goods. A fat man with a thick accent, Thracian* of sorts, welcomed you all with an ecstatic smile. “Good evening, I know you all must be weary from your travels, our busy Senator will be home late tonight and plans to sup in the morning. Please call me Illyrio, I am the steward here.”

He outstretched a jiggly arm and beckoned you all, “Come, come, dinner awaits.” Oberyn sniffed and sauntered in, viper eyes darting around suspiciously. He had become quite bitter and distrustful after dear Elia’s death. Rhaegar, a wonderful general, had found some Briton barbarian’s daughter while putting down an uprising and squirreled her away. Much to the anger of the Novantae*.

Robert Baratheon also took offense to the affair, having eyes for the same girl. Add on Aery’s madness and rising tensions against the imperial family. Well. That’s what led to now. It’s bad when the Roman army has to enter Rome. Slimy Lion of Lannister, Tywin, a once trusted Consul* and general settled the fighting quite quick. His son, a Praetorian guard, struck down the Mad Emperor.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts, weary from all the travel. Dinner and chatting was a blur, Oberyn interrogating Illyrio up quite intensely about Viserys. You retired early to a sumptuous room, dreaming of frolicking in the paintings until slumber met you at last.

In the morning you had two girls attend your bathing, dressing, and other attending. You felt quite beautiful in your immaculate yellow stola, embroidered with gold. Your headband and jewelry was also gold and citrine. They smudged your eyes with kohl, painted your lips a darker color with berries. All to hopefully ensnare.

Padding to the triclinium* you readied yourself. Being a proconsul’s daughter, you knew how to behave. Hispania Baetica was extremely romanized, it wasn’t like you came from Judaea* or Asia Minor*. Your family was mostly seated, Oberyn and Ellaria looked tired. They may have treated themselves to the pleasure of Rome last night.

Illyrio beside a big man in armor and the distinct silver haired of a Targaryen graced your vision. Viserys was quite handsome, lengthy waves, strong features, and long limbs. No warrior like Rhaegar but self assured in his own right. You gave obeisance and sat down. Viserys intense lilac eyes bored into you, pretty lips curling up in pleasure.

He hummed, “Martells. You have been good to the Targaryens for many a moon. I hope the trip was fair, nice to see you Oberyn. I hope Doran is doing well.” The senator’s smile was stiff lipped and frigid.

Oberyn snorted, “The place smells of pig shit and is overcrowded. But a fine city I suppose. The streets of pleasure are wondrous. How is the usurper doing?”

An awkward hush enveloped the room. Viserys’ eye seemed to twitch. His pallid cheeks reddened, “The fat oaf is fine. The Lion does his dealings after the Arryn man passed.” Oberyn hissed, “Detestable fucker.”

You cleared your throat and gestured to Illyrio, softly stating, “I’d love to reminisce on the injustice of our past but we did not travel to Roma for nothing, Senator.” Viserys seemed a relax a smidgeon, eyes narrowing at Illyrio’s wide frame. He drawled, “Was there something not to my knowledge? As the leader of my family this could be treason.”

The big man placed a hand on his sword.

Illyrio laughed it off and boomed, “No, this is all good tidings. A proposal lost in the fire.”

“Go ahead, Mopatis.”

You nervously popped some grapes into your mouth, eyeing the silver haired man’s heady gaze. He was entranced— for what gain you did not know. Illyrio opened the scroll and read of the marriage pact hastily made after the downfall. You would marry and join Viserys’ household.

The Senator remained quiet, the guard muttering something along the lines of, “That’s a first.” Viserys finally hummed, “What will I receive if I am to marry your girl? Gold, allies, men? I will become Emperor again dear Martells. You burn with the same injustices!” A vein on his forehead twitched.

Oberyn bristled, “You will receive a handsome sum and my gorgeous niece. Have patience, little Targaryen, lest the people might think you’re madder than your father,” he sharply grinned, “Excuse me, the emperor before Robert. Damnatio memoriae is a bitch, hm?”

Viserys barked, “Quiet your tongue, red viper! I accept the girl, shall pay the dowry, but I need allegiance. My sister awaits with her warlord husband, powerful screamers on horseback.”

Oberyn settled back down with a shit-eating grin, placing his sandals on the table, throwing an arm around Ellaria. You nodded and added, “All good things come with time, Aedile Targaryen. We shall plan, and I will do anything in my power to asssist.”

He was quaking with anger, long and thin fingers almost shredding the purple edging of his toga. Illyrio hummed, “Very well, we shall have the wedding, small, and pay the dowry. Then you may return to Hispania.”

Oberyn stated, “My daughter Obara stays as her personal guard, then we shall leave in the morn.” Viserys glared at the strong woman, lips thinning in annoyance. You glanced down at your hands, quite unsure what to do with an unstable temperament.

You’d find a way, always had. Nothing cunt couldn’t fix. Unless the Senator didn’t prefer that. But that could be arranged too.

After the wedding, you felt alone and bored. Viserys had held intercourse with you once, a banal affair. Strange for a Roman, a Targaryen one at that. Obara and Jorah as you learned, were mainly your company out and about. Viserys spent most of his time on the Capitoline Hill*. Planning events and city works, whatever Aedile’s did.

One day you’d had enough. You decided to snoop around Visery’s personal quarters, he’d be in hearings all day. Illyrio turned a blind eye with a small smile. Coming to a bronzed desk you found a half-unrolled paper. Wonderfully decorated with Pan and his nymphs.

Fingering the scroll open your eyebrows raised. It was an invitation. Tomorrow night. To a secret party with masks only. It was likely to be an orgy once you placed the masks, Pan’s* turgid cock, and the syrupy invitation. Your fool husband wasn’t going to even let you know.

“Illyrio!,” you hollered.

Heavy footsteps and breathing came closer and closer. Mopatis wiped the sweat from his brow. He panted, “My lady?” Padding over to the large man you shoved the invitation toward pudgy hands.

“Was my dear husband planning on inviting me?”

He stared at you with a strange expression, mouth twitching. You held his gaze before he broke. “No. He was to go alone. Felt stifled recently.”

You snarled, snatching the invitation back, Mopatis now leaning on a doorway. You murmured, “Say Illyrio, dear steward, could you perhaps get me into this sordid soirée?” His fleshy face erupted into a smile.

“I have friends in the lowest and highest of places, I’m sure we could arrange your arrival. A surprise for your husband. I’ll have to send one of the girls to the mask maker.” Patting a shoulder you mused, “Hmm, I cannot wait to see the look on the asshole’s face.”

Jorah snorted from afar.

You gained entrance into a vast complex of gardens and smokey rooms, smelling of herbs. Petals littered the ground at every turn. You fixed your mask and stola, quite lost. You’d heard of these debauchery laden gatherings high up in the echelons of Rome.

It wasn’t like that in your household, definitely in Oberyn’s with all the boys and women he could fuck until dawn. A man with a deep voice sidled next to you, offering a goblet of wine, “Here sweet one, this brew will make Cupid himself bless you.” You took it and asked, “Where is the main gathering?”

“Follow me nymphet,” he hummed.

You downed the wine, unsure if that was a horrid idea or not. But Jorah was waiting on the outskirts in case you may need help. Citizens of Roma were fucking and kissing all over as you drew near the sounds of wailing and drums. The mysterious man hummed, “This is where the show is, where you find your lovers for the night.”

He disappeared as fast as he had met you. Eyes scanning through the fog you spotted silvery hair. Viserys was sprawled with some ladies, idly watching the erotic show on the dais. Sucking in a breath you sat on some cushions directly across from him.

Heat began to slither up your belly, the haze and glistening skin of the erotic dancers making your cunt ache. Pulling at your stola you stifled a whine, chewing on your lip under the mask. It must have been that brew that man gave you, some sort of Aphrodisiac. Venus herself must have dipped her tits in the brew, you were on fire.

Transfixed in the low hum of the droning singers, the sensual beating of the drums and the escalating cries of pleasure— you were not prepared for a rather smug voice in your ear. Yelping and sliding away, long fingers wrapped around your upper arm, jerking you close. Viserys lilac eyes were a bit hazy as he murmured, “You aren’t secretive you know that? Thinking I don’t know that you’re going through my belongings, sending my steward around.”

As his thin face began to erupt into a sinister smile you grew a bit fearful. Maybe you’d crossed the line. Targaryen’s were notoriously unpredictable. You gulped out a weak, “I apologize, maritus*, I do, please!” Viserys only smiled more and pulled you flush atop his thin hips.

“I’d prefer dominus*, my sly little Baetican,” he drawled, dragging fingertips across your overheated skin. Nosing along your slick neck he continued, “Almost as slithering as that viper of your uncle,” his soft curls tickling you issued a full body shudder and whimper.

“Dominus, I simply wished to- ah- find out what pleases you! You show me no attention,” you wheedled, overwhelmed with groping hands and wandering lips. Viserys cruelly mocked, “Dear, you were a pact, a bag of sesterces, a pretty little something that makes me look good when I get my birthright back.”

Anger seized through your veins at his callous words, shoving him off with a hiss. Viserys smug look turned to shock as he called, “I wasn’t done yet! Come back here!” You shook your head and stumbled through the clouds of burning incense, past the degenerates contorted and fucking, howling to Lūna.*

Slinking through to doors, not to make any noise, you arrived on a much quieter plaza of sorts. A fountain, some beautiful columns, and a small worship temple. Probably Venus. You ran toward the temple, seeking to hide from your vile husband.

Inside everything was painted a rosy, gorgeous color. A statue of Cupid* surrounded by candles and offerings sat at the head. You decided to sit against the wall, staring at the little cherub from the side. You filtered through your robes to throw a coin at the shrine. No one had shrines to the son of Venus*. That you knew until now.

“Strike him, will you,” you asked out loud.

Viserys. What a wretched ass. You knew this was a pact. He showed desire but nothing else. Doomed to a loveless marriage with a power-hungry maniac. You wanted to make him cry, make him hurt like you were. Throwing your mask off your hands clenched into balls of fury. Then took a deep breath, holding the tears back.

“I said I wasn’t done, now you ran off to weep?,” Viserys snapped as he entered the shrine. You stared at him coldly and replied, “No, I didn’t want to hear your vile words. I’m sure you had some great insults coming up, dominus.”

The blonde scoffed and leaned against a pink column, crossing his sinewy arms. He drawled, “Whatever, I was going to say, that you have proven yourself to be strong and dedicated. I like that. Ask me next time and I’ll take you along to my affairs.”

You crawled forward on all fours, holding his piercing gaze until you sat back in front of cherubic Cupid. Gesturing to the god you said, “I’m glad then, I have your approval dominus. Now fuck me. Prove it. Prove your power over me.”

Viserys sputtered for a second, pale cheeks blotchy. His cock was hard enough you could see it through the layers of his toga. You needed this, didn’t care if it was the Minotaur of days of old fucking you open. Anger and lust coursed in your veins, the drink wracking your system.

He mumbled under his breath and padded over to shut the doors to the shrine. Just leaving you two and marble Cupid. He knelt down in front of you, looking composed but sweat beaded along the high points of his face. You leaned back, revealing your legs and bare cunt, pulling and undoing your stola*.

Viserys sat like a dolt. Obviously he did not have the upper hand in this situation, Face getting redder and redder. You purred, “Dominus, or should I say, Caesar?” The blonde moaned softly, trembling hands undoing his expensive garments marking the man’s station. You were naked and waiting, smirking to yourself. Viserys, now just as bare didn’t move.

“How do you want me Caesar?,” you hummed with a cock of your head. Visery’s swollen prick could rival Priapus* currently, leaking and red. He rasped thinly, lips agape, “Ride me, ride me, hispanus.” Stifling a laugh at the suddenly submissive acting senator you prowled forward like a tigress, placing your jeweled hand on his pale chest, pushing the man back.

Straddling yourself across lean thighs you rolled your slick pussy across his length, moaning lowly in satisfaction. Big hands clamped down on your thighs, a strangled noise leaving Viserys’ throat. Suspiciously close to a whine.

You leaned forward to press your tits against his flat chest, breathing against his pink lips, “Caesar, why are you bowing to such a simple whore him? One from Hispania, probably not even a citizen. Tsk tsk” Viserys thrashed some, face pouty. His free hand clamped down on your neck as the blonde hissed, “This is no time to jest, your Caesar wants you to ride his cock. Get to it.”

He wouldn’t let go until you heaved for a breath, sliding onto his long cock, the protrusion deep and nestled on your sensitive upper walls. He let go, hands now groping your breasts, that irritating look back on his face. You coughed wetly, sucking in breath as you clumsily began the first few thrusts, but it felt wonderfully divine.

Your pussy, lips, and nipples were hypersensitive and swollen, sending sparks of ecstasy shooting off over your body. You rode harder, seeking more and more. Viserys gasped, “Gods, fuck, you’re different tonight.” Slapping him across the cheek while simultaneously squeezing his turgid length made the made shout, eyes fluttering.

“I may be your, hng ohhh, wife, b-but I can be your equal! Fah-fucking lackwit! Jaehaerys and Alysanne ring a godsdamned bell?” Your cunt grew slicker and slicker with your arousal, sweat rolling down your back, between your bouncing tits. The small shrine was growing warmer, the sounds of fucking echoing in the small temple.

Viserys mewled hungrily around your chest as you reached back to grab his overfull balls, squeezing ever-so gently. His eyes flashed open, mouth opening and body arching as he cried your name passionately. He managed to string together a broken sentence, “I- Ifffff- you beast, keep it up, ah Cupid you little shit! I will rethink my behavior!”

You plastered yourself to the man, luridly slapping your plush hips against him, moaning uncontrollably. Viserys was right along with you in pitch, desperately jerking his wonderful cock into your needy cunt. Sloppy sharing lips you growled, “Good boy.”

Your foggy mind expected another bout of anger.

No. Viserys outright whimpered and seized your lips, skinny arms holding tight as he planted his feet and pounded your cunt. He licked into your mouth, tongues dancing together in a style much older than Rome ever was. The senator caressed and sought to drive himself into you, besides his cock of course.

Pulling free from slobbery lips you rasped, “You like that? Dominus just wants to be my good boy? Ah-ct like one and I’ll give you ah-ah-alll the praise you want oh pretty silver!” He nodded fervently, lilac eyes searching your own, whimpering unintelligibly.

His blunt cock head was massaging your most tender spot, driving you to grab Viserys hand and guide it to your swollen Pearl. He picked up easily, eyes lidded with heavy satisfaction at your carrying on. You began to shake, the pleasure heightening to the realm of the gods.

“Ah! Caesar, Viserys, Dominus! I’m gonna,” you convulsed and crumpled atop of him whining when your clit was rudely pinched. Another one wracked your frame when a flood of hot spend filled your warm cunt. You babbled deliriously in your own dialect, Viserys panting and heaving through his heavy unload.

Flattened atop of him now you warily eyed Cupid, little cheeks puffed as he smiled. With a scoff and a residual tremble you said, “I did pray he would strike us. Not sure if it’s love, but I felt the lust.”

Viserys hummed gently, carding fingers through your sweaty curls, “He might have mad contact, I would kill any other woman this brash. Take that as a compliment, you are quite special my baetican vipera.”

“I’ll take it. Do you think our fucking was a good enough offer?”

He barked a laugh, stealing your lips for a peck, “Very much so. We should built a shrine in the manse.”

Translations/Explanations:

* Praetorian Guard: Guard of the Imperial family, Caesar, and special agents

* Sesterce: Roman Coin 1/4 of a denarius

* Denarius: silver coin

* Aedile/Aedileship: Senator of public office, Job that involved maintenance of Public buildings in shape and regulation of public festivals. Also keeping city life in order and that needs are met.

* Cinaedus: Male willing to be the passive partner in a homosexual relationship

* Hispania Baetica: Third province of Spain. Rich and romanized, they are citizens of Rome. Eventually brought up now named cities of Cádiz, Seville, Cordoba.

* Pro-consul: Governor or military commander of a province

* Esquiline hill: One of the seven hills of Rome. A upper class residential district.

* Thrace/Thracian: Area of people spanning between Bulgaria, Greece, and Turkey.

* Briton: Roman conquered England

* Novantae: powerful Celtic tribe in the north of Briton.

* Consul: Highest senate position, has the emperors ear

* Triclinium: a dining room with couches on three sides and a table.

* Capitoline Hill: Name says all they be doing government shit up there

* Pan: Greek name for a forest god with nymphs. A horny goat okay

* Cupid: God of lust/love, son of Venus

* Maritus: Husband

* Dominus: Lord, master, owner

* Caesar: Emperor

* Venus: goddess of beauty and love

* Stola: Women’s dress at the time, feminine version of the toga

* Priapus: Fertiliy protection god known for his HUGE DONG

* Hispanus: From Hispania

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

From the Ashes Pt. 31

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, Reader POV

Words: 4328

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 3.5  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35

Book Two of Dārilaros hen ōrbar se perzys (Heir of Ash and Fire)

The crescent tip of your fingernail traces along the bumpy ‘scales’ on the massive opal that lay on the pillow next to you. Though dulled and partially covered with years of neglectful dirt, the stone that shone underneath was beautiful. There were traces of blues, greens, yellows, and even pinks. All held together in a cream blanket.

Tyrion sat with crossed legs on your bed with you. He was equally puzzled on why your former maid had sent this opal to you beyond the grave.

The opal. . . Strange as it was, it radiated a comforting warmth whenever you wrapped your arms around it. You hadn’t felt such calmness in a long time. Even with your youngest brother now by your side, you knew you still had much ahead to stress about. Back in Westeros you had no such worries except Rhaegar’s infidelities. You had no duties and no one expected anything from you besides to provide Rhaegar with an heir that would one day rule the Seven Kingdoms. The one thing you had been expected to do. . . unfortunate events ripped your child from you and tore apart your world. Now you were in Essos where everyone expected the world of you. It was daunting and stressful. You had enjoyed sword fighting with your brother and everyone else, but the reality of your situation truly came to light when you had fought Inniros.

“Are you going to show it to that bald dude?”

You chuckle at him. “You mean the High Priest? Hm, I don’t know. Thalina sent this to me for a reason. Maybe she wanted me to sell it?”

Tyrion picks up the opal and puts it on his lap. “You would get a lot of money for it! It’s basically the size of a large egg. I would have never imagined that this was what Selmy was carrying around this entire time.”

Furrowing your brow, you prop yourself up on your elbow. Why would Thalina give this item to Varys. You hadn’t even known they spoke at all. There were a lot of things you didn’t know about Thalina. Like you hadn’t known she had a sister.

What did Varys, the Master of Whispers, have to gain from this? It made you worry of what he planned to do with this information. He knew you were alive.

“Barristan didn’t say anything else about Varys, did he?”

Shaking his head, Tyrion looks up at you sensing your mistrust of the knight he had been traveling with. “No. He’s good at keeping secrets. He didn’t even tell me we were delivering it to you until we arrived in Lys. I was so mad. He didn’t tell me that my own sister was alive.”

Softening and reaching out to him, your fingers smooth down his unruly hair. “Regardless, I’m happy you’re here Tyrion. I’ve missed you so much.”

His face is endearing and full of warmth as Tyrion lets himself fall into your touch. “I missed you too (y/n). When. . . the fire. . .” He couldn’t even talk about it for it made his eyes glossy. Chest raising as he took a deep breath, Tyrion collected himself. “Casterly Rock has been insufferable.”

You watch Tyrion shyly fiddle with the opal on his lap. He didn’t want to meet your eyes again otherwise he might very well end up crying. “I could only imagine. I know it must have been hard but what you did was very dangerous. You could have been killed had it not been for Ser Barristan. We have to thank him before he leaves.”

Tyrion scrambles off of the bed and looks out your window. The early morning sky was growing brighter with the continued rising of the sun. “He wakes up early. If we want to catch him, we’d have to leave for his room now.”

He sounded anxious. Maybe he hoped for his knight to stay. That was impossible though. Barristan was already in deep trouble for leaving Aerys’ side.

You nod and get up as well, not before grabbing the opal.

He wanted to leave as soon as possible. Once the sun rose, Selmy was up and pulling on his armored chest plate that he hid under his normal clothes. Without the chest, Barristan had more room for movement.

There was a nagging feeling that prevented him from leaving right then and there. He needed to see Tyrion one last time. He had grown fond of the boy, even attached. Tyrion had made the journey more bearable for Selmy.

Selmy had told Jaime just that when they had their private discussion. . .

“Before you go on to scold me, I want to thank you.” Jaime’s normally cocky tone was dialed down to that of genuine humbleness and gratitude. “You saved my younger brother. Brought him here and made (y/n) incredibly happy. I don’t have much at the moment, but I owe you.”

Selmy had wanted to yell at him. Disgrace him and fill Jaime with shame for abandoning his post. In the grand scheme of things, Selmy knew it was no longer important. There was something else going on in the temple that Barristan had no comprehension of. This was a new world to him. (y/n) and Jaime seemed to be highly regarded there. Plus, Selmy had done the very same thing. He had forsaken his king and vows to do what the Spider had asked of him and for what? Had it been the worry and fear on the eunuch's face?

Pursing his lips, Barristan’s shoulders slump. “I’m not going to scold you. Even if I did, would you listen?”

Jaime pauses to choose his words carefully. That was also something new. A thoughtful Jaime. “Out of respect for you, I would have. I would’ve listened but it would have done nothing to change my mind. My loyalty is in a much better place. With my sister (y/n).”

“So you acknowledge that you have committed high treason then?”

“Oh yes, of course.” Jaime nods with an easy smile that unnerved the seasoned knight. “But I don’t regret the choices I’ve made. I would do them all again. If I hadn’t done what I did, (y/n) would have been dead. I will never regret turning my back on Aerys and the rest of the guard. I’ve fought along the men here, they are good men. Well, most of them. I do know that they would put down their life for my sister. She is much safer here than in Westeros where someone was obviously trying to kill her. . .”

Why had his voice grown quiet? “Did you ever find out who set fire to her rooms?”

Green eyes flicking away, Selmy saw a newly healed cut on his cheek that had barely missed his eye. “No.” It sounded like a lie but Selmy wasn’t going to pry anymore.

Barristan Selmy sighed and glanced at the door. Was anyone listening in on their conversation? Probably. Those who resided in the temple didn’t seem to trust him. “Who are these people? Why do they treat your sister like. . . Like she’s-”

Jaime cuts him off “Like she’s important?”

Not exactly what he was going to say, but it was along the lines. “Strange men with tattoos on their faces and women who look just as terrifying. . .”

Out of the blue, the former Kingsguard knight shakes his head. “I can’t tell you. Not if you intend on going back to King Aerys.”

“You know I have to.”

“Obviously you don’t have to. Look at me now.” Jaime barked out a laugh. “You don’t owe anything to the Mad King. You're one of the best knights in all of the Seven Kingdoms. Do whatever the hell you want! I know Tyrion would be happy to have you here.”

Barristan stood up; he had hoped that Jaime would return with him. Maybe then Aerys wouldn’t be as upset for him leaving for so long. It was clear that Jaime wasn’t going anywhere and Barristan didn’t have the manpower to force him back to Westeros. And there were Jaime’s fellow soldiers to worry about.

Jaime reigned himself back in. “One of these days Selmy, you’ll find something that is truly worth your loyalty. It will be your reason to change. When that happens you’ll see how much of your life you have wasted in the service of Aerys Targaryen.” Getting up as well, Jaime held out his hand. “There are no hard feelings from me though. Go back to Westeros if you must. My place is here.”

Maybe it was just Selmy, but he saw a change in the young, cocky, Jaime. In his Kingsguard days, Jaime had kept his brilliant shock of gold hair short and had a permanent air of arrogance about him. Before him was almost a completely different young man. Hair had grown long and was kept at bay with a rope tie. His former peach complexion was gone, overtaken by a tan. Foresaking his suit of metal in exchange for looser, more comfortable, attire; Jaime looked at ease in his surroundings.

Holding out his hand, he grasped Jaime’s outstretched one.

“Ser Barristan?” A muffled voice on the other side of his door nearly startles him. It sounded like Ilta’s, the soldier who had escorted him to his room.

His assumptions proved correct, but there was another female guard with her. Tall with short blonde hair sheared close to the scalp with the same flames upon her cheeks.

“Dārilaros (princess) (y/n) would like an audience with you before you leave.” Ilta speaks again.

“If you would be so kind as to follow us.” The blonde guard offers Selmy a tentative smile.

On his way through the temple, they passed through the open, arched, hallway that looked out into what appeared to be a training facility. The ground was void of any greenery and beaten down into sand in the middle. Beyond one could easily see the rolling waves and incoming ships.

Men and women in the same orange and red robes sparred with one another.

“That’s where our Fiery Hands train.”

Barristan nearly choked on his air. He hadn’t heard this small girl’s arrival. It was like she had popped out of nowhere.

Ilta greets her. “Lady Alizah.”

She was a lot shorter than Ilta and had a unique pale face with her lips dyed black with streaks tattooed on either corner of her mouth. Her scarlet freckles made Selmy wary that perhaps this girl had some kind of disease.

Lady Alizah’s almond shaped eyes look directly ahead, not missing a beat with her companions despite her stature. “Ilta, Chetna. Sorry to have surprised you.”

“Are those the temple soldiers?”

“Something like that. Although I personally believe they’re more than soldiers.” Her voice has a dreamy softness that could put someone comfortably to sleep if she so wished it.

“They hold up the faith of R’hllor, the Lord of Light.” The guard known as Chetna helps to further elaborate and points to her cheek. “The tattoos, a symbol that the Lord of Light is always with us.”

He had heard that those who believed in the faith of R’hllor came off as religious zealots. Selmy now realized it was true. The religion was hardly spoken of in the Seven Kingdoms with many people believing in the Faith of the Seven or even the Old Gods. It was mainly a forgein religion that Selmy was not familiar with.

“Don’t bother with Ser Selmy with your talk of R’hllor.” Ilta tells them with a wave of her hand. Her golden bangles clink against one another. Even though she was a soldier of faith, she still had her courtesan trinkets that she dare not part with. Each one of the bangles she wore could probably pay for a small army.

“They’re no bother. I’ve never heard anything about it.” He simply shrugs, not wanting to offend their beliefs.

Their little group was slowing down, drawing closer to (y/n)’s private chambers where a few guards milled up and down the corridor.

Lady Alizah stops them in front of a large wood door. In the dark wood there were intricate designs that Selmy’s old eyes couldn’t possibly make out. It was clearly made with the utmost care. “Perhaps if you come back to Volantis, we can have a chat about R’hllor. If you so desire.” She bows a little at her waist before heading down the opposite way.

A guard that was standing off to the side goes to the small girl and in a whisper asks if she would like assistance back to the High Priest. Alizah smiles but shakes her head, continuing on her merry way.

Chetna raps her knuckles against the door and took a step back. The door lurched for a second before being pulled open. Tyrion smiled up at Barristan Selmy. “Thought you could leave without saying bye?”

Barristan chuckled. “I figured you would send their entire army out to catch me.”

“I do have friends in high places.” Tyrion stepped aside for the knight to enter.

At the center was a tiled table, plush cushions surrounding it and on one of them sat (y/n). Next to her, in a lounged cross leg position was her older brother Jaime. She puts her cup down on it’s saucer and stands up to greet him.

“Ser Barristan.” She tilts her head down in a customary form.

The action made him feel slightly embarrassed. “That’s not necessary. . . my lady? I’m not sure what title to use. . .” Jaime hadn’t exactly been clear what her role was with these people.

Awkwardly (y/n) laughed. “Ah, you can just call me (y/n).” The climate of Essos agreed with her complexion and demeanor. He couldn’t quite remember her from her time in the Keep, but he knew that she had never appeared this comfortable with herself. “I owe you my gratitude for bringing both my brother and Thalina’s gift to me.”

Heart rekindled with a giddy jump, Barristan had to hold back his excitement. “The chest. . . you opened it already?”

(y/n) motioned for Barristan to take a seat on a cushion. At first it was a bit awkward to position himself on, but eventually he found a comfortable enough spot. Tyrion muffled his giggle and sat next to him. Two servants came with tea and snacks, setting them on the low table.

“It wasn’t easy.” Tyrion told him. “Rhiannon- oh! She’s Thalina’s sister by the way. Thalina was (y/n)’s maid. Rhiannon spent all night trying to open it. Turned out the box itself was a giant puzzle!”

From behind his back, Jaime revealed a large opal. Oddly shaped, it glimmered with so many beautiful colors that Selmy had never seen before. “This is what was inside it. The note left behind for my sister said it was found in Dragonstone.”

Not knowing what to make of it, Barristan glances at the three Lannister siblings. Each one looked so different from the other besides their blonde hair. Tyrion was excited about everything happening to him.

The maid must have stolen it from Dragonstone. Why she wanted (y/n) to have it so desperately was beyond him.

(y/n) watches him with guarded thoughts. Much like the scar on Jaime’s cheek, she had a newly healed scar above her brow. Her long dirty blonde hair was also pulled back into a ponytail similar to her older brother’s. It was the perfect hairstyle in a climate like Essos; it kept them cool while also protecting their neck from sunburns. There was definition of bicep muscles as well that told Selmy (y/n) had been physically training. The docile little girl from Westeros had evolved and grown under the Red Temple’s roof.

“What has the sister said of this?” A small teacup in front of him, Barristan felt a little silly picking it up in his massive hand.

“She’s equally perplexed about it.” (y/n) admits, her eyes flicking over to the opal that her brother was now handing her. She weighed it in her hands, eyelids drifting downward as she gazed at it. “But she knows her sister must have had a good reason. It’s the least of my worries right now.”

A door off to the side opens and a small maid with dark braids walks in with a tray in her hands. Atop of the tray is a velvet cream bag. She places this in front of Selmy. Jaime thanks the girl and calls her ‘Inanna’. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old but smiled politely and went back through the door she had come in through. “Our thanks.”

Hesitant, Selmy tugs at the gold cord that kept the bag shut. When he looked inside he couldn’t believe the amount of gold that lay inside. He immediately closed the bag. “I don’t need this. Knowing that Tyrion is here with his family is thanks enough. I have done my duty to the Spider.”

Tyrion rolled his eyes and huffed, pushing the bag closer to him. “Just take it. (y/n) said this was also from the High Priest. The bald dude that we met yesterday.”

“As a reminder also to keep her existence a secret. Better yet, don’t tell anyone about us either.” Commented Jaime in a slightly warning undertone.

His hand hovered over the bag before clutching it and putting it in his robes. Selmy nods. “Very well. I shall take it for your piece of mind. But you can trust me. I will not tell a soul.”

Timidly, Tyrion siddles up to Selmy and quietly tells him “If you happen to see Lady Ashara again, tell her I said thank you for her generosity.”

Selmy might never see the beautiful lady of Starfall again. Once he returned to King’s Landing, who knew what Aerys’ reaction would be. The Mad King could easily order his execution and he would be in the right.

Patting him on the head, Selmy smiles warmly. “Don’t forget to keep practicing. Don’t let anyone tell you what you can or can’t do. That’s all up to you.”

Even (y/n) grew a little dewy eyed at Tyrion acting so tough in front of his mentor. The youngest Lannister nods. “Yes, sir.”

He was a good kid. Selmy would miss him dearly.

You knew a part of him hurt at watching Barristan Selmy’s ship sail off toward the Seven Kingdoms. Tyrion had voiced his wish that the knight would decide to stay and continue to teach him how to swordfight.

Drawing him closer to your side, Tyrion’s hands grab at your skirts. He didn’t want to show how he was feeling and hid his face. “You’ll see him again. I’m sure of it.”

“That is if Aerys doesn’t kill him upon his arrival.” Tyrion mumbles against you.

Biting your bottom lip you knew that was a high possibility. You look back out to the glittering sea. You prayed to whoever was listening to keep him safe.

Jaime was still perched on his cushion, enjoying the refreshments that Siofra and Inanna had dropped off. Aimlessly picking at pieces of nuts and fruit but you could tell his mind was somewhere else. Did his presence bring up Jaime’s regret? It was a cold reminder of his desertion and the consequences that would fall upon him if he returned to Westeros while Aerys was still king.

The sooner Rhaegar won the war, the better. When you return. . . well, you had lots of hopes of your return, but the biggest was the hope that Rhaegar would grant Jaime leniency. He had proved himself to be a good man and shouldn’t be punished for abandoning his post. Maybe even reinstate him into the Kingsguard if Jaime so wished.

For a moment you stare at the back of Jaime’s head, lost in thoughts that revolved around Rhaegar. It wasn’t anything new. You frequently thought of Rhaegar during the rare moments you were completely alone; mostly at night when you missed his sleeping form next to you. At night was when you were most lonely. The phantom caresses you tried to bring upon your memory were now fleeting. It had been so long since you had been in Rhaegar’s arms. You couldn’t exactly remember how it felt but you knew that you missed it dearly. You missed his soft exhales as he dreamed much sweeter things than his reality. Missed how he would unconsciously wrap his arm around you and pulled you closer to him.

Barristan Selmy had been a distant connection to Rhaegar and it made your memory burn with desperate want.

When Jaime turned around, he broke the spell you had been under. He looked equally dazed from his own deep thoughts. Had he been thinking of Cersei? He must miss her like you missed Rhaegar.

He holds up the opal. “Were you going to take this to the High Priest? He might know something about it if he can read the fire.”

“Eventually. But first,” You twist around back to Tyrion who was still looking out on your balcony. “I want Tyrion to meet someone.”

Jaime raised an eyebrow. “Oh? I’m sure there’s plenty of new people for him to meet here.”

You shake your head. “No one like Inniros.”

“(y/n)-”

“We’ll be fine.” Trying to assure him, you took the opal out of his hand. “As long as I bring Lightbringer, you shouldn’t have to worry. The High Priest doesn't see him as a threat either. He gave Inniros his own room.”

Jaime wanted to press on about the dangerous darkin, but he pressed his lips together and simply nodded. He had personally seen you go head to head with Inniros. Not even Jaime had been able to wound the assassin. You had been the only one able to stop him in his deadly tracks.

“What are you guys talking about?” Tyrion walks back into your room looking older than he was.

You smile at him. “How would you like to meet an actual darkin?”

His sparkling eyes told you his answer.

You had to ask a priest where they had moved Inniros to. Surprisingly it was very close to your own apartments. The priest had said that Benerro felt better if Inniros was placed close to you so you could keep an eye on the darkin.

"Have you actually seen him use his shadows?" Your little brother asked excitedly. He was walking fast alongside you, finally forgetting about Selmy's departure.

It was a relief to see Tyrion's happy face once again. That intellectual brain of his craving for more information. You reposition the opal that you were holding in your arms. You just didn't feel right leaving it in your room. Something told you that you were not to leave it alone. "Yes. I actually fought him."

Pausing, Tyrion gazes up at you. He had seen Lightbringer at your side. "So you've learned how to sword fight too?"

On your walk you tell him of the Fiery Hands and the training they had put you and Jaime through. You showed him the long scar on your hand that was courtesy of Weles. It made your brother flinch but you assured him that it didn't hurt and that there were no hard feelings between you and the captain. Even going so far as telling Tyrion that if he so wished to continue his own training, that Weles could possibly help him.

Turning a corner into the corridor that was to lead to Inniros' room, you were met by a red priestess sitting outside his door with Vidarr and the towering Yophiel who stood rigid against the wall.

"Nuha kosh." Vidarr greets you and Yophiel pushes himself off the wall to properly face you. The quiet red priestess smiles gently and places her book on her chair. You couldn't quite remember her name, there had been a lot of priestesses that you had met during your time in the temple. When Vidarr spies Tyrion by your side, he offers him a patient smile. "Ah, you must be the young Lord Tyrion."

"Indeed. Tyrion, this is Vidarr and Yophiel. They are part of the Fiery Hand."

He had to crane his neck up in order to look at Yophiel's face. Tattoos weren't very common in Westeros. They're tattooed faces must have been jarring for him. He was polite and even greeted them in Valyrian, surprising all four of you.

Vidarr laughs. "He's much better than you were when you first came here!"

Blushing slightly, you can't help but feel a shy sort of pride. Yes, Tyrion had always been smarter and quick to understand things. Smiling as you turn to face the red priestess present, she bows to you. "Nuha kosh, are you here to visit the darkin?"

"Yes, if I may."

"You can do whatever you want." she replies smoothly and steps aside, motioning for the two other men to follow her movements. They look wary but say nothing as you knock and the door opens.

You're shocked when you see Inniros. His red dreadlocks were gone, his hair was trimmed close to his scalp so that you could now easily see his long, pale, face. There was no hiding his empty eye socket.

Beside you Tyrion scrunches his face and whispers to you "This is the darkin? He doesn't have any claws."

About to reply to him, Inniros interupts with a sudden sharp gasp. "That egg!"

"Egg?"

Inniros rushes you and Tyrion inside his room. It was much smaller by your's, probably no bigger than Rhiannon's. "My lady, where did you get that?"

You look down at the opal, confused as you tell him about the puzzle box that came from Thalina.

He shakes his head. "That is no opal."

"What is it then?"

Under his breath he whispers "It's a dragon egg, my lady."

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[misguidedasgardian]

The White Dragon (27)

27. The march

MASTERLIST

Summary: Prince Rhaegar guards the North Army South. 

Pairings: main Harwin Strong x Fem!Targaryen reader

Warnings: cursing, medieval and A song of ice and Fire AU customs, injury, burns, mourning, violence, war and all that comes with it. Might miss some warnings but you know what this is about :) mmm dragon fire (a wanring on it's own)

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4.4 k

Notes: Alriightttt here it is! remember when i said sometimes the characters just spoke to me and took life of their own? well, a situation got lively, and I had to take a long time to make it have sense, you get me? well, anyways... here it is!

Aemond saw the chaos everywhere around him. He seemed to have just stand still in the middle of the hallway, and his mother, the King's Guards, the maesters and surgeons, healers, septas, septons, silent sisters, everyone just moved around him in fast forward, while he just stood there, with a clear view of his brother’s chamber doors.

All that small army of people were coming in and out of the King’s chambers, all of them with different ideas and motions on how to make him better again, but they wouldn’t. Aemond knew

They couldn’t heal him, not entirely, they couldn’t unburn his flesh, they couldn’t heal his tortured mind. 

His brother was inside, fighting for his life.

His stomach turned when whiffs of burned flesh, strong herbal scents and a hint of death struck his nose. But he couldn’t leave, that would make him weak, no, he fought through his own need to barf, and stood right there. 

It was his fault his brother had half his body burned to a crisp

He could still feel his melted flesh under his fingertips when he grabbed him, and Aegon had passed on his arms because of the pain

The dragon had been kissed by fire and the wings had been burned off.

Sunfyre just stood on the shores, he couldn’t fly.

Aegon was mortally wounded

He had heard people talking, that he might not make it, because of the pain, there was so much milk of the poppy that could be administered to his burned brother before his mind truly gives in to that treacherous beverage

Her mother, with his nose strangled in disgust and eyes filled with tears finally met him

“Aemond what happened?”, she demanded. But he didn't answer, he couldn’t

“Why weren’t you with your brother?”, she asked again, desperate to hear from his son, she finally placed her hands on his shoulders and shook him, Aemond seemed gone, his eyes looking through her, he wasn’t there, his mind, even if his body was

“Aemond!”, she finally lost it, and slapped his son, his favorite son, her heart, the apple of her eye. And that finally, with a flashback to when his eye was being stitched shut and his brother was being slapped by her mother because he wasn’t there to defend him from Rhaenyra’s bastards. He came to his senses, finally focusing his one good eye on her face

“Mother”, he whispered, it was meant to sound as a response to her, that she finally had his undivided attention, but it sounded like a plea. A plea for all of this to stop

“What happened?”, she asked, “why weren’t you with your brother?”

“He left alone”, he said simply

“Your brother could die!”, she snapped. “where were you?”

“When I realized he had left it was already too late” he whispered, “he had gone to kill Rhaenys”. His mother whimpered. Probably regretting the little wit his eldest son had, his mind clouded by years of alcohol poisoning 

“He went looking for her?”, she asked, and Aemond barely nodded. 

“Gods, is she?”

“She fled as soon as she saw me”, he whispered. His mother nodded and finally released him, to walk away from his soon chambers 

The Dowager Queen found her daughter Helaena, sitting and knitting, her babies were nowhere to be seen. 

“They say he will make it”, she whispered, sitting by her daughter, when she reached for her, to comfort the wife of the dying King, Helaena recoiled from her touch, like she used to do

“The earth might bloom but the storm is in the skies”, she said, focusing again in her embroidery

“Helaena”, she tried to touch her again, she stood up from her seat, her work falling to the ground and she left her own room. She walked towards her children's bedrooms, where they were playing peacefully. She embraced her children her three year old Maelor, and the twins

“The shadow will solidify as Valyrian steel”, she whispered with a faint and relieved smile as she caressed the heads of her children.

Meantime, Aemond’s feet alone took him to Aemma’s chambers, he didn’t even knock, he just came in moving past one of the new King’s guards he didn’t even bother learning the name of.

She jumped when she heard the door, adrenaline always about to flower in her skin.

“Aemond”, she called, anger taking over

“Aegon was burnt by Princess Rhaenys”, he said simply, “he could die”. She thought about it for a second, and then he looked at him

“Is Rhaenys dead?”, she asked, and Aemond shook his head

“No”, he confirmed

“I should say I’m relieved”, she said, “But I’m not”, she whispered, “how many more people are going to die because of what Rhaenys did to him?”

“It’s hard to say”, he whispered

“Why are you here?”, she asked then, “are you going to convince me that is an eye for eye sort of thing? My mother for Aegon?”, she continued

“Your mother was an accident”, he whispered, ashamed

“I don’t care”, she answered, “she is gone”

“I’m sorry”

“That won’t bring my mother back”, she whispered, “they won’t transport me to the arms of my remaining parent, and my siblings, they are out there, they are fair game, they are enemies that can or have to be killed”, she whispered, looking away from him and out the window

“So, they have to bend the knee”, he said

“They are honorable, and sworn to Rhaenyra, you know they won’t change sides”, she said

“Aegon might be next”, he whispered, a mother for a brother, a Princess for A king. He knew that that meant nothing to Aemma, but he wished it would. That this was enough for her to forgive him, the fact that he did nothing to stop his brother and knowing perfectly well what he wanted to do. That he did nothing on purpose and he wanted her to know that

What he truly wanted was to tell her that he regretted the alliances he made, the oath he made to himself, the allegiance. The only promises he should have made were to her, to Aemma, she and her sister,  where the women he loved the most. His mother? He doubted his love and devotion for her after what she had asked of him. After she had usurped the throne for his drunk and rapist brother. 

“Will you give up the throne to Rhaenyra then?”. she asked

“I don’t think so”, he whispered

“So it wasn’t about Aegon being the chosen one”, she said, “it was always about power, wasn’t it?”, Aemond looked down, ashamed. If Aegon died…. he was next, he was the son his mother was going to put on the throne next. What would he do then?

“I’m next”, he whispered, “If Aegon dies…”

“You grandfather, the grand architect of this mess, will put you on the throne”, she said

“The grand architect?”, he asked

“Who do you think did all of this?”, she asked, “There is only one person responsible, you need to realize who that is, and what are the motives behind all”, she said. Aemma had been one of the last persons to see King Viserys alive, telling him tales about Aegon the Conqueror, the name that had been on his lips on his dying breath, not his drunk of a son. 

“If you had a name, speak it”, he demanded

“The only thing I have to say is that we are dragons, not puppets”, she whispered, “but it doesn’t matter”, she whispered, “I’m not going to poison you against your family, because, when this is all over, they might be the only thing you have”, she said bitterly

“You said your love for me is over, sweet niece?”, he asked. 

“No matter the love I might hold for you. It will never be enough to stop this”, she whispered. A single tear fell down Aemond’s cheek. 

It was cruel, but ambition was even crueler. 

In this cruel game, where are the puppets? or were they puppeteers?

Aemond certainly felt like the forward. But who was pulling his strings?

Did his father truly change his mind at the last second and wanted Aegon to be King? He didn't think so, but he knew his mother, and she wasn’t a liar.

What is his mother the biggest mastermind behind this? He also doubted that

Was Aegon?. No.

Was…? Who had recruited him in the first palace? who had told him this was the only way to preserve his mother’s, his sister’s, his nephew’s and his head over their shoulders? That he could keep living happily with his extended family and marry his Aemma? that everything was going to be alright? that Rhaenyra never wanted this, that she was going to bend the knee?

Otto Hightower was the master architect in this mess. And Daemon was the only man that was going to prevent his sister from surrendering. 

And because of that, they were most likely all going to die. 

When Harwin saw the White Hall, his breath got caught on his throat

His home, the home his wife had built, where they had their family, the home he had shared… with you.

He had to fight the tears that wanted to come out of his eyes

He should be relieved that his home was still standing, he should be relieved that the greens hadn't got to it yet, but… the only thing is his mind was you… if he and his small host of a hundred men where to be swamped by a thousand green soldiers, he wouldn’t even bat an eye.

You were gone, and this was your home, the home of their babies.

He remembered bitterly one the last things you ever said to him

“I’m starting to think we should have never left Harrenhal”

You never had wanted to leave the home you had built, and probably, if you didn’t, you would still be there. His two elder sons wouldn’t be preparing for war, his beautiful Aemma would be in his arms, Saera and Vaegor would be here by his side, learning and growing under their wings, under thor love, under that tree. 

His legs almost gave out when he dismounted his horse. It had been a long journey, from Dragonstone to Rosby, and then a ride all the way up here, disguised as someone else. 

“My Lord we will take residence in Harrenhal and gather the other lords”, one of his hosts told him, he only nodded mindlessly, as they rode off.

He was met with the staff, cooks, maids, and a few soldiers. All of them wore sad looks on their faces, all of them knew what had happened… He guessed 

They all bowed their heads as a sign of respect, and they all were wearing black, he guessed, it was the only thing they could do.

News traveled fast these days, and bad news? those traveled even faster.

He walked silently through the halls of his home, once so big, spacious and full of light, they now seemed lifeless, meaningless. 

How could he plan a war? he wish the whole world would stop just for a second, just for a moment so he could gather his thoughts, so he could mourn, so he could gather all of his children and embrace them, never to let them go.

But how could he do that?

An army, and a big one, was looming over his head, probably days if not hours closing in on him, ready to kill him and every other who had sworn to the blacks, and take his home, a strategic place of big importance to the capital on which it was the way to.

Harrenhal

He had always thought it to be a curse, but when he moved in with his wife and their babies, he thought it would be a blessing… but no… it had been the deadliest of curses. 

By this time, he was starting to doubt every word, and every thing he had done.

You were gone

Have you been happy? with him? Was he the best husband he could be? Did he manage to become worthy of you?

He wanted to answer “yes”, but his mind would whisper a bitter, “no”

He had made you suffer, he had made you doubt. He had made you regret marrying him, instead, you had made him think he should have married Rhaenyra instead of him. You had tried to run away and if Daemon wouldn’t have brought you back you would probably be in Braavos right now, with Maekar and Rhaegar, you would have probably become the own Sealord of Braavos, or you could have married an important man and travel the world.

But you stood by his side, even if he didn’t deserve it…. Even if he didn’t deserve you

You had made a better man out of him, you had given him a family, a worthy place to call home, you had given him a purpose, a sense of direction, responsibilities that in the end made him what he is today.

You were the love of his life. He had only loved you, and you never truly believed him, and now you were never going to truly know how much

And he was left to protect and live everything you built, and you were gone.

In a sick way, he would have preferred the Stranger took you first, he didn’t want you to suffer like he was suffering right now. At least now you didn’t have to suffer the war to come, where everyone and everything could be forfeit.

You were only the first casualty 

As he was walking down the hall leading him to your shared chambers, he ran back and forth all the possible stages of grief

Denial

No, you could be alive, you hadn't shown up in a week, but that didn’t mean anything, you could be alive, on some strange shore, your dragon nor his remains were never recovered, and Shipwreck bay had the cruel tradition of always returning the remains of its victims….

Anger

He was going to kill every green he could get his hands on, for murdering you, and for taking Aemma as a hostage, his sweet Aemma, they were going to pay and when they come for him, he was going to take every valuable hostage he could and then he would take theirs head of front of the city gates making sure they watched

Depression

Fuck the war, fuck this, fuck all of it, the Greens could come in with fifty thousand men, and three dragons, and he couldn’t care less, he just wanted to cry, hugging the pillow he hopes still smelt like you, or otherwise, imagine it did

Bargaining

But his children, he still had his children… he had to be strong, for them, they were the incarnation of you, your legacy, with them, everything made sense, perhaps he could take those hostages, but instead trade them for their sweet Aemma, he would have to gather hundreds of them to do so, but he would take millions if it would mean to get his daughter back. 

Acceptance

Yes, that was he was going to do, his son was on his way, both of them, the Tully army, they will gather, they will defeat the Greens when they came, and with those hostages, he was going to get his daughter back, and they would fight to live another day

He would send his children to the north, where they were going to be safe, and they were going to win the war, for you, for his children he would do so. They had more men, more dragons, and more kingdoms they could make, he was certain.

Yes 

And then he entered your chambers

You were there

In the color of the bedsheets, in the tapestries of the walls, in the style of the furniture, you were there. You had worked extra time and put an extra effort in your room to make sure it looked like home to you, and it was home… this is where you had made and where you had received Aemma, this is where you cuddled your children when they were scared, or sick, this is where you slept together every single night for ten short and beautiful years… 

He couldn’t find you in Shipwreck bay because you were here

And this is where he was going to lie

And Harwin Strong, the strongest night of the seven Kingdoms, fell on his bed and weeped for his lost wife ,the love of his life, the mother of his children. 

He didn’t know how long he lay there, on your shared bed, crying, weeping, sobbing, but at one point his tears had run out, the sun had hidden and risen up again, and he just ran out of tears. He just lied there… it could have been hours, or days, or weeks, all time became meaningless 

He didn’t hear the horns, or screams of warning of a dragon approaching, if he did, he didn't care, he also didn’t hear all his servants and soldiers cheering for something, or someone. 

He only cared when the doors of his rooms were being wide opened. He rose from the bed, and right there, in the doorway, stood his own very imagine, but with mischief and dragonfire deep within his eyes

Maekar looked at him, at first with surprise, and then, his son, when he was his father, he also broke down.

And now he understood it, the time for mourning was over, he had his children to fight for

Harwin stood from the bed and held his eldest son against his chest, and caressed his wild hair that was just like his. 

The son that you gave him

“It’s alright son”, he whispered when he heard him weep against his chest. And he knew Maekar had been containing all of his grief inside of him. And just now, in the arms of his father and in the comfort of his home he dared to openly cry and mourn his mother. “It’s alright, we are going to avenge her”

“Nobody else can die”, he cried, “Not Rhaegar, no Aemma, or Saera or Vaegor”

“They won’t”, he promised silently. “This will end here, where everything started”, he promised 

Rhaegar knew that the march was going to be quiet, the North belonged to the Starks and the Starks where sworn to Queen Rhaenyra, it took them 1 week to reach moat Cailin, and then they will take them another to reach the Neck, and the Twins. The Riverlands 

But the sight that awaited the young prince there, took his breath away

Thousand of men, hundred different banners, form the Bear of Bear Island, to the flayed man of House Bolton. 

All of them were there.

It was an impressive view. the rundown castle in the middle

What is an omen of a lost cause? Or they just gathered there because it was the place on the border with the North and next to the King’s road, a place they could all reach?

A bad omen or not, it was still a great sight. His young body filled with excitement and bravery, was he a mad man to crave battle? Probably, he was a young boy who knew nothing of real war, death, blood and pure terror, but right now, he was going to enjoy the high.

His dragon flying over him gave him courage, the northerners clapped and cheered as he rode by at the side of Cregan.

They were soon led to the center of operations, a big tent disposed to that purpose

Plans and discussions for the war ahead weren’t far behind. Rhaegar looked, almost entertained, to all men present, and he could certainly say, with no doubt in his mind, that he could discern a northerner to any other man from the rest of the Kingdoms easily. They were all hard-looking, gruff even, he certainly wouldn’t want them as an enemy

“The young wolf called in his bannermen”, greeted the oldest of the men gathered there

“We are marching south to assist Queen Rhaenyra in defeating the Greens, the Usurper Aegon, and their allies, the HIghtowers, and the Lannisters

“Good”, he said, “it’s been a while since we marched south”, perhaps they never had before, Cregan thought

“And where is this Strong dragon?”, asked another, Cregan placed his big hand on Rhaegar’s shoulder

“This is Rhaegar Strong”, he presented to the group, “twin son of the Princess (Y/N)”, he nodded his head with a solemn look on his face, and the Northerners didn’t seem pleased, “Also my daughter Sarra, has chosen him to be her husband”, and then he received words of encouragement and approval.

Apparently his betrothed was called the she-wolf, because of her strong nature, and gods be good if that wasn’t what attracted him to her the first time he ever saw her. Because it was. 

“We have gathered a group of men”, started Roderick Dustin, Lord of Barrowtown, “2.000 old men, hungry for the fight”, he said, with an intensity on his gaze that made Rhaegar tremble, “we will march on the vanguard”, eh said firmly, “we will march to the Twins to cross right on the Westerlands”, Cregan listening to him carefully, he knew all about this group of men, willing to sacrifice themselves for their young, hungry for a glorious death in battle, but to take as much southerners as they could before the old gods took them

“Very well”, he said firmly, “This is a suicide mission”, Cregan said, looking at the leader of this rogue army they had created

“Perhaps, but we will take as many Lannisters with us as we can”, he said, smiling.

“I will go with them”, said Rhaegar, and Cregan wanted to kill him, this was not what he had in mind, the boy might ride a dragon, but he was still in charge of him, and not the way around. 

“Boy…”

“You will meet my brother in Harrenhal…”, he said softly, and then he looked at the men, “I can go with them and assure their victory with Karnax”

“This dragon might grow wolf fur!”, laughed Lord Roderick, coming towards Rhaegar and embracing him, “Let’s do this!”, he cheered 

“You will secure the Twins”, he said severely, when they were both alone, “the west side of the neck, you will reach Riverrrun and then you will march to meet us in Harrenhal, alright?”, he asked. Rhaegar and Lord Roderick nodded 

But Lord Roderick knew what they were going to find, he knew it, but he didn’t tell Cregan 

Rhaegar calmed himself, they were just going there to secure the Twins and the small town between them and Riverrun, everything was going to be alright, he thought, and then he was going to meet his brother and together they could face the Greens in Harrenhal

So he rode alongside Lord Roderick, at the head of the army of two thousand men. 

They were all men over fifty years old, gruff, with long beards and hairs, wearing shaggy dark furrs, wielding axes, mauls, spiced maces, and all kinds of weapons but swords. Their horses were as shaggy as their riders, wild hairs.

This was the wildest army he had ever seen 

They rode the very next day at dusk, at first taking the king’s road, and then taking an alternative one through thick woods.

Karnax was flying above them, sometimes he got lost, but Rhaegar knew he was always close by, that he would abandon him or go rogue, but he needed to hunt some days

From dusk till dawn they would ride their horses south, at nightfall they would settle camp right where they stopped, camping under the stars with heavy pelts and furs. 

Rhaegar was not having the time of his life, in fact, he was hungry, cold and just… miserable, but he was escorting the most badass army Westeros had ever seen, so he couldn’t quite complain, not even draw a frown.

But at night, when the stars lighted the night and the bonfire warmed their cold bodies, stories would start, stories about the reign of King Jaehaerys and battles fought in the North. Stories about long winters and the cold… that almost sounded like ghost stories.

And after five long days, they finally reached the Twins.

It was an incredible construction, two twin tower guarding a bridge that crossed the river named Green Fork

Rhaegar knew he should be quite enjoying this, but he was, he was seeing some many new places, small towns and castles, he couldn’t wait to see Riverrun 

But as the army was about to show themselves up the road, Lord Roderick made them all stop. 

“Something is wrong”, he whispered to Rhaegar, who nervously gazed at the skies, but didn’t saw Karnax anywhere 

“What is it?”, he asked, there were no banners hanging from the castle walls, no men in sight, they told them they were coming, so, where were they?

“I’ll send a group of ten men”, he told them

“I’ll get my dragon and sight the skies” he whispered. Lord Roderick nodded

Rhaegar spurred his horse to make it gallop towards the end of the army, up the road, commanding everyone on sight to stay still and quiet. Karnax felt his uneasiness and met him right up the road. No men in sight. 

But as Rhaegar was about to climb on top of his dragon, screams and the crash of swords could be heard, and he climbed on top of Karnax, who has grown to pass in size even Syrax, and flew towards the Twins

And a whole battle had ensued, thousands of men ran from the tree line and from the bridge, men raising the Frey banners and the golden lion flew proudly. The Lannisters 

This was an ambush, Karnax roared, inspiring fear in the enemy soldiers, who looked at the skies in terror and fear, they didn’t expect a dragon, nor had they saw him when they scouted the rogue northern army. Rhaegar flew over what they were only enemies, he drew the words he never thought was going to be used against countrymen

“Dracarys!”, he said firmly, and his gold and cream dragon released his breath of fire, burning everything and everyone under his.

More notes: I know the Freys sided with Rhaenyra, but again, I made the blacks too cool alright?? I needed more enemies and we all hate the freys! hahaha from GOT at least

Poor baby Rhaegar is going to be the first one to taste real war!

What can I say? inspiration sturck me, I was writing so fast and intensely my mother actually asked me wtf I was writing about HAHAHA 😂😂❤️❤️

taglist! ❤️ @tearsarcane @integra1127 @aestmilky @thanyatargaryen @tythaitie @lostinworldofdarkness @voodoogoul @wildmindedbeauty32 @lil-pudd @alicattx @electric-bloo @astaaan-lol @stargaryenx @kaitieskidmore1 @bregarc @lilpnd @jcpenneyyy @janelei @fexibau @ladyoakenshield157 @danielle-leah1997 @lady-ragnvindr @cecilyjmorgenstern @omgsuperstarg @bugheadskid @batprincess1013 @her-fandom-sanctum @holb32 @blue1006 @stargaryenx @grippleback-galaxy @mikariell95 @genesisliveson @mendes-bae @caspianobsessed @notmundane3000 @kamisunshine @just-someone11

[gulnarsultan]

Yes, Modern Reader may not show that she’s afraid of the Queen, but there is still a fear inside the Reader, which is why she tries to stay away from her. And Yandere Rhaella can see it and use it to full advantage. “Either you become mine willingly or I will burn Kings Landing with your family in it and put on your precious neck a collar.” Yandere Rhaella explains with a sweet scary tone. Modern Reader gets scared by that thought, because all Westeros doesn’t know how to deal with dragons that are bigger than Balerion the Dread. So Modern Reader would say “Or perhaps I should kill you right now.” “Do it and the army of the dead will get here faster and kill everyone here, turning them into monsters” Yandere Rhaella explains that to Reader. “Also you can’t kill me, whether you want it or not.” Yandere Rhaella gets closer and whispers to her ear “You missed me just as much as I missed you.” The Queen gives a kiss on the cheek and leaves Modern Reader, who is shocked to hear that. “Why the gods made me love a hateful woman, after what she has done to me?” Modern Reader asks that question to herself.

Daenerys: “Does it mean, you are our second mother?”

Modern Reader: “What? No! I’m not your mother!

Viserys 3: “Really? We just saw how our mother kissed you on the cheek, and you’re saying that there is nothing happening between you?

Modern Reader: “You know nothing kids! Perhaps it’s good, because you’ll probably hate your mother, like your brother Rhaegar did.”

So how would Viserys 3 and Daenerys react? What their reactions would be when they heard about their mother’s abuse towards Reader? Also, Viserys 3 and Daenerys would accidentally (or not) call Modern Reader “Mother” right in front of Lannisters. And Yandere Rhaella is like “My children have accepted her, which is good. But I don’t want to share.”

“Why the gods made me love a hateful woman” Jaime said that to Cersei, after Joffrey’s funeral. So I decided to use that quote for Modern Reader, perhaps Reader starting to have feelings for the Queen, which is shocking for her. But I think Yandere Rhaella charms and probably use magic to Modern Reader.

I think Viserys 3 will take his mother's side after they've learned about the past between Rhaella and the reader. Daenerys will remain neutral. The reader may not be completely free from her fear. But she has the courage to fight Rhaella. So the reader is not easily hunted down prey.

[ludcake]

Another ramble post incoming because I want to write meta but am too exhausted to do it.

I feel as though a lot of readings of the books - in particular, of Jon and Dany's characters, but also tangentially some readings of Sansa, Young Griff and even Theon (in the form of Theon Latecomer theories) sort of miss the point that GRRM is making in regards to claims and birthright. This is an inconsistency that annoys me most deeply in regards to Dany - specifically, the idea that the crux of these characters is their birthright to a throne.

The thing is, Daenerys' reason to go to Westeros isn't to sit on the Iron Throne, and the justification why she should isn't, in the text, derived from her birthright. At the beginning of AGOT, the same claim that Dany has is currently held by Viserys - it's not being a Targaryen, a Princess, a Queen, a King's daughter that gives her standing to rule, from the narrative's eyes. Dany is Queen because she's kind, and compassionate, because she wants to free the slaves, because she wants to break the wheel and make a better world. She's Queen of Meereen because the slaves she frees want her and love her.

Not because she inherited it by birthright.

She is Mother of Dragons because she sacrificed everyone she loved, including herself. Not by birthright.

And she wants to go back to Westeros because she wants a home, and that's what she's been told. Not by birthright.

Jon, similarly, is Lord Commander because his friends are loyal, and he takes the position of King Beyond the Wall, though not literally, because he sees the humanity in the Freefolk, and he gives them safe harbor, a home, and so much more. He wasn't born into it; his people follow him because they believe in him, and respect in him.

In that sense, we can map their journey in Dance as that famous George RR Martin quote that ruling is hard. That it's not enough to be kind and compassionate. And ultimately, they both fail in Dance.

But Winds, as far as we can tell, seems to be building up to the idea that even after Dany leaves, even after Jon dies, the people loyal to them will still fight. Barristan rides the Silver to remind them of Dany. Tormund marches to Hardhome to save the people there for Jon.

And, I think, there's the trouble. Jon is a bastard by all rights; I don't believe he'll stop being a bastard, despite whatever may come - that much is my earnest belief, and I know some people disagree with me. But Jon leads the Wildlings not by a claim decided by feudalism, but by trust, by respect, by recognizing their humanity which was denied for so long. Dany leads Meereen not because she's a Targaryen, but because she sacrificed everything for her dragons, and still chose to grant people freedom.

They're both still teenagers, children. They both make mistakes, they weren't trained or raised to rule.

But what makes them good rulers, by Martin's thesis, I believe, is that their duty is their love. Love to other people, love to those who follow them. That even if they're dead, people will follow them, because their cause is one that goes beyond oath, law and claim.

That's the misunderstanding; it's not about Ned, Lyanna, Rhaegar, Rhaella, Aegon, Aerys; it's about people, detached from all that history, choosing to be good, and people choosing to follow.

[esther-dot]

i've been thinking about all the rhaegar/lyanna theories (did she go willingly or was she kidnapped, etc.) and one thing i don't think gets discussed often enough is the time lag between when lyanna disappeared and when jon was conceived.

jon was born more than a year and a half after lyanna disappeared (she disappeared at the beginning of 282 AC, and he was born mid-to-late 283 AC). that means that he was conceived roughly a year after lyanna's disappearance. that year included the deaths of her father and brother at rhaegar's father's hand, rhaegar's father calling for the head of her second brother, a continent-wide war that rhaegar was taking no part in, rhaegar apparently having no contact with elia and taking no measures to protect her and her children, and lyanna being stuck in a random tower in the middle of nowhere.

whatever lyanna felt at the time of her disappearance, i simply can't conceive that she felt positively toward rhaegar one year later, at the time that jon was conceived. i just don't see her being a wholehearted participant in jon's conception. i think "lyanna left willingly" and "lyanna was raped" could both be true.

Ah, now that is an important detail. It certainly is hard to believe Lyanna was willing at that point. But that reminds me of the entire Knight of the Laughing Tree side of this convo, that I neglected to mention.

It was a good story, Bran decided after thinking about it a moment or two. "Then what happened? Did the Knight of the Laughing Tree win the tourney and marry a princess?"

"No," said Meera. "That night at the great castle, the storm lord and the knight of skulls and kisses each swore they would unmask him, and the king himself urged men to challenge him, declaring that the face behind that helm was no friend of his. But the next morning, when the heralds blew their trumpets and the king took his seat, only two champions appeared. The Knight of the Laughing Tree had vanished. The king was wroth, and even sent his son the dragon prince to seek the man, but all they ever found was his painted shield, hanging abandoned in a tree. It was the dragon prince who won that tourney in the end." (ASOS, Bran II)

So someone who deactivated once told me that their supposition was that Rhaegar sided with Lyanna over his father here. He found out it was her, promised not to tell, gave her the roses to honor her. To everyone else it was offensive / signaled romantic intent, to Lyanna, it could have been taken as an acknowledgment of her skills/what she'd done. That would have allowed Rhaegar to earn her trust, ingratiate himself, but also, signaled a break with his father.

We don't know how he framed things to her later, if he hyped up his plan to get rid of his dad, if he led her to believe he'd actually truly broken with his father and wouldn't side with him/fight against her family, if he convinced her he was as much a hapless victim as she had felt she was. Taking her all the way to Dorne could have been part of convincing her he was helping her escape her marriage, and that he was escaping his father. Depending, he could have created a lot of space between him and his dad. And then of course, in canon, when Robb believes he's lost Rickon and Bran, he seeks comfort in someone's arms.

Now, I'm not saying that is what happened, but there are ways to write this story without forcible rape, and based on how Rhaegar is characterized, I think that's where Martin would try to land. I do think she was a prisoner at some point, I think this is a Rhaegar-critical story, but I'm not sure that Martin is going in that particular direction.

There is also that first convo about Lyanna:

"She should be on a hill somewhere, under a fruit tree, with the sun and clouds above her and the rain to wash her clean." "I was with her when she died," Ned reminded the king. "She wanted to come home, to rest beside Brandon and Father." He could hear her still at times. Promise me, she had cried, in a room that smelled of blood and roses. Promise me, Ned. The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper, but when he gave her his word, the fear had gone out of his sister's eyes. Ned remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black. After that he remembered nothing. They had found him still holding her body, silent with grief. The little crannogman, Howland Reed, had taken her hand from his. Ned could recall none of it. "I bring her flowers when I can," he said. "Lyanna was … fond of flowers." The king touched her cheek, his fingers brushing across the rough stone as gently as if it were living flesh. "I vowed to kill Rhaegar for what he did to her." (AGOT, Eddard I)

This is couched in the idea that Robert loved her, Rhaegar kidnapped and raped her, they're talking about where to bury her, so the first time we read it, we're guided to believe Lyanna is begging to come home, but now we know, Lyanna was begging for Jon's life.

(That is not to say she didn’t want to come home, of course she did, I’m just pointing out the misdirection about what her pleas were about).

So, when I reread that passage with the idea that Lyanna left willingly (which I think is the implication of the revelations that Bran receives) and she was begging for her son's life out of fear of what Robert might do, we realize that while Rhaegar is the villain in Robert's story, Robert is the villain in Lyanna's. Robert stands there speaking of his love for a woman who died terrified of what he might do to her child. And rather than being able to hate the man who demanded that fear, Ned loves him, has to serve him, and rather than hating Rhaegar or thinking ill of him, he has a weirdly neutral opinion (link).

In that little scene, we know have the conflict of POVs, the way these characters are torn by loves and loyalties, the fact that Lyanna's enemy is Ned's best friend/"brother"/king, the fact that he takes the son of his enemy and calls him his own. The layers of pain here, the conflicts of his loves, that is one of the beautiful aspects of the series imo, and I believe the mystery Martin has been writing about throughout each book, in most POVs will have that same complexity.

At the same time, I hate Rhaegar and if he is a kidnapper/rapist, it would be very Targy of him. Can't eliminate the possibility!

While writing this I remembered a post I thought tried to give a balanced view of things, worked to reconcile the characterization and the events of R/L which you might like to read (link). I also really appreciate this breakdown of whether or not Lyanna could give meaningful consent (link).

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Idea #70: Game of Thrones, but make it time travel

I have a terrible weakness for time travel stories - especially when it leads to massive sprawling changes from the moment of divergence. So I thought to myself: which character would be able to most change Westeros through the simple act of time travel?

The answer came easily. Or: What if Ned Stark time traveled from after his death to the middle of Robert's Rebellion?

Just imagine it:

Ned Stark dies in the OT as per canon. He watches the events of canon unfold fold from the afterlife and has a crisis of faith.

For here is a man who has been nothing but an honorable, faithful, just lord. He served his realm in the best manner he could, was a dutiful husband and loving father, and put the good of others above personal advancement or that of his family. He even stained his honor to raise his sister's son as his own and give the boy the best protection he could - and yet.

And yet the gods allowed his son, wife, gooddaughter, and unborn grandchild to be murdered at a wedding. They allowed his oldest daughter to be used and abused by those that should have protected her. They let that thing take over his second son's body-

So when Ned finds a means to return from the afterlife or is allowed the chance tor return and fix things, the Ned who arrives on the morning of the Sack is a very different man than the one who went to bed the night before. Though they are the same at heart, Ned no longer believes or trusts everyone around him to be good, honorable, or want the best for Westeros.

In the New Timeline, Ned tries to prevent the deaths of Elia and her children - he's too late to save Aegon and Rhaenys, kills Gregor Clegane as he tries to force the princess, and though Elia is alive when he finds her, she dies of her wounds soon after - and gets Jamie to give up the Wildfire Plot after murdering the Mad King.

The fight he has with Robert for refusing to condemn the royal family's deaths is even worse than the OT and threatens to bring down the Red Keep.

Afterwards, he races to Lyanna's side... but though he arrives a week earlier than canon, he's still forced to fight his way through her protectors and she still dies in childbed. He does have enough time with her to get her side of the story - that she loved Rhaegar until he went to war to keep her, and has been a prisoner in the tower ever since she said she wanted to go home - and say his goodbyes.

He returns to Winterfell a little more mindful of his wife's feelings - Ned still passes Jon off as his son, but makes it clear that he has no intention of shaming her again, while also making it clear that the North would shame him if he sent Jon to be raised elsewhere - and sets about strengthening the North.

The next few years should be a montage of Ned making alliances and enriching his kingdom: 1) He talks Benjen out of joining the Night's Watch, sends him to survey all the empty keeps in the North, and grants him Queenscrown once the coffers have had a chance to refill after the war; 2) He gets White Harbor and Bear Island to start trading lumber and peat up and down their respective coasts and across the Narrow Sea, which enriches the North; 3) When Catelyn announces her second pregnancy, he starts work on restoring Moat Cailin, claiming that their second son will need a seat someday; 4) He finds some excuse, if not to get rid of the Boltons, than at least keep such an eye on them its next to impossible for them to continue as they have; and 5) Making tentative moves to court the other Great Houses. Doran Martell, grateful he at least tried to save his sister, arranges a betrothal between Arya and Trystane? Sansa gets a fostering in Highgarden? Bran is sent to foster at Storm's End?

Regardless, the North should be in a better position when Robert rides north after Jon Arryn's death - by natural causes this time, Ned having shared with his foster father stories Catelyn told him about Littlefinger's obsession with the Tully girls.

Meanwhile, Ned also tries to do a better job with Jon this time around - make it more clear that he is loved and valued, and that a good post or even a holdfast will be granted to him if he earns it. Ned does not want to place him on the Iron Throne, but it becomes increasingly clear as time goes on that war of some kind will inevitably follow Robert's death and so it's best all his children be prepared.

(Sansa and even Catelyn are taught how to use a knife to protect themselves, Ned honestly claiming he wants what happened to his sister never to happen to another woman in their family.)

King Robert rides north, gets a stiff, "No," for both his propositions - and might actually have come to blows if Ned hadn't arranged for Jamie and Cersei to be discovered in flagrante delicto in the First Keep. Robert rides back south sans a wife and heirs, short one Hand and Kingsguard. Cersei is beheaded, Jamie and Joffrey are sent to take the Black, and Myrcella and Tommen are left to be fostered at Winterfell until they're old enough to have other arrangements made.

Tywin is naturally unhappy about this turn of events and rises up in rebellion. The Iron Islands use this as an excuse to start reaving again, while the Reach withholds their support unless Robert promises to marry Margery - and Dorne merely withholds support.

Almost three years into the conflict, news arrives during the wedding of Robb Stark and Alys Karstark that King Robert died in battle without any heirs. His brothers have gone to war over which of them should succeed Robert to the Iron Throne. Tywin continues to claim that his grandson Tommen, safe in Winterfell, is the rightful heir. Baelon Greyjoy has declared himself King of the Iron Islands... and there are rumors of Daenerys Stormborn gathering forces in Essos for an invasion.

Into this Ned - having realized it was the best choice he could make for the safety and security of his family and the North - declares that Jon is really the trueborn son of his sister Lyanna and her husband Rhaegar Targaryen... and as such has rightfully been Jaehaerys III since birth.

The war which follows is swifter and less devastating than the OT War of Five Kings, but is still war. By largely staying out of the fight between Tywin and Robert, the North has a large army of fresh soldiers and, by marriage, the support of the Vale and the Riverlands. Stannis has Renly assassinated via shadow, but few chose to follow a follower of the Red God. The Stormlands end up throwing their lot in with Jon, as do Dorne and the Reach once they see which way the wind is blowing.

In a situation that should very much echo the situation in the British Isles in 1066, Jon's forces should be in the southeast of Westeros preparing for Dany's invasion when word comes of Tywin leading his forces north to capture Winterfell. Royalist forces should race across the countryside, win a magnificent victory at the Twins, and still be celebrating their success when news arrives of Essosi troops landing in the Crownlands. Jaehaerys' exhausted forces race back across the country... and manage to win the first engagement by the skin of their teeth.

When Dany brings her dragons to bear in the next battle, Rhaegal defects to the other side - and rather than pursue another Dance of Dragons, aunt and nephew come to an arrangement.

A Great Council is called. Jon is elected Lord of the Seven Kingdoms by overwhelming numbers. Sansa is his queen. Dany is named Lady of the Rock after most the remaining Lannisters are exiled or take the Black.

Bonuses include: 1) OT trauma for Ned, who never quite moves past what happened to his family then; 2) Dark horse romance between Jon and Sansa, fueled at first by the comment that Ned would like his daughters to marry good men - like Robb or Jon - and Catelyn encouraging it once she learns Jon is really her husband's nephew; and 3) No one ever learning Ned traveled through time.

And that is legit all the space I have. As always, feel free to adopt, just link back if you do anything with it.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[cluz1babe]

I am a Daenerys defender and I always will be.

I’m posting a good article I found from December 2023. Click link below or read the copy-paste I did yo avoid the million ads.

Why Dany Burns King's Landing

Daenerys Showed Restraint Until Cersei Took Too Much From Her

Burning King's Landing to the ground was a goal Daenerys had at the start of her war with Cersei in Game of Thrones, but she was talked out of it by Tyrion. Indeed, at the beginning of Game of Thrones season 7, Daenerys was poised not just to conquer Westeros but also to do it easily and decisively. When she left Essos, Daenerys looked unbeatable. She had amassed an all-star contingent of loyalists: Tyrion was Hand of the Queen, she had the allegiance of Lady Olenna Tyrell of Highgarden, Ellaria Sand and the Sand Snakes of Dorne, Theon and Yara Greyjoy's Iron Fleet, as well as Varys and Missandei.

In addition, Dany had her legions of Unsullied led by the eternally loyal Grey Worm, the Dothraki hordes, and Daenerys' dragons Rhaegal, Viserion, and Drogon. It was inconceivable that she could lose to Cersei — and yet, thanks to Tyrion's miscalculations, she lost consistently, except for the Loot Train Battle, which Dany won thanks to her dragons. But by the time Daenerys reached Winterfell to fight the Great War against the Night King in Game of Thrones season 8, she had lost a significant amount of her military strength, and her allies Ellaria Sand and Olenna Tyrell were dead.

Also, her Iron Fleet was gone when Yara was captured by Euron Greyjoy. Worst of all, Viserion was killed and resurrected as the Night King's ice dragon. But beyond the icy reception she received, despite the presence of her lover Jon Snow, it was at Winterfell that Daenerys suffered her most personal loss: Jorah Mormont, Daenerys' oldest and dearest friend, died defending her at the Battle of Winterfell. After the Great War was won, Daenerys lost even more loved ones when she was ambushed returning to Dragonstone; Euron killed Rhaegal, and then Missandei was captured and beheaded in front of her on Cersei's orders.

Dany Had Lost Everything

Daenerys Became The Mad Queen Because Her Trauma Overcame Her

In "The Bells", Daenerys had realized that her most loyal confidants and friends from Essos were gone. Other than Grey Worm, who was mourning Missandei as much as Daenerys, everyone else who professed to support her was from Westeros. Worse, they were plotting behind her back because the secret that Jon Snow was Aegon Targaryen, the son of her dead brother Rhaegar, was spreading. Despite Daenerys' pleas, Jon told his family Arya and Sansa Stark the truth about his heritage, and Sansa wasted little time in informing Tyrion.

Once Tyrion shared the info with Varys, the Spider was sending letters across Westeros trying to rally the highborn to support Jon's claim instead of Daenerys'. The inconvenient truth for Dany was that Jon's claim to the Iron Throne as the true heir was stronger than her own. While many fans feel Daenerys' heel turn into the Mad Queen felt abrupt, forced, and unearned, her capacity for ruthlessness was established all throughout Game of Thrones.

There's a legitimate argument that Daenerys' transformation into the Mad Queen seems to betray seven seasons of character development as she resisted her Targaryen impulses and tried to rule with fairness and mercy. But from Daenerys' point of view, she was betrayed by her Westerosi advisers, and the people from Essos she trusted most were taken from her while she was trying her best to save the realm. With Jorah and Missandei gone, the ones who are left, like Jon and Tyrion, betrayed her for the good of Westeros, culminating in the death of Daenerys and Bran the Broken (who says he can’t be lord of anything, but then becomes lord of the seven kingdoms) on the Iron Throne.

Westeros Burned Daenerys First

Daenerys Destroyed Kings Landing In Retaliation

In Essos, Daenerys was magnetic and received love wherever she went, and all of her achievements are because of her unwavering belief in herself. However, Daenerys learned the hard way that no one really believed in her or loved her in Westeros, whose collective memory of the Targaryens wasn't exactly pleasant. This is part of why Dany was only met with mistrust. Tyrion even noted Sansa seemed "determined" not to trust Daenerys and, despite Dany's overtures of friendship, the Lady of Winterfell refused any truce.

By the time Daenerys won at King's Landing, she realized that despite everything she'd lost, Westeros refused to trust her or love its new Targaryen ruler (the final sign was Jon's hesitance to kiss her), so her only recourse was to make them fear her.

Daenerys is the only person in Game of Thrones actually qualified to rule because she spent years learning how to do it well. She really did come to Westeros to "break the wheel" and build a better world, but the actions of her Westerosi allies showed they only wanted to preserve their broken system.

From the beginning to the ending of Game of Thrones, it was Westeros that failed her, and Daenerys lost everything in her quest for the Iron Throne. So she finally snapped and unleashed all of her frustrations, grief, and pure rage on King's Landing. It may be true that Daenerys was always the Mad Queen and finally showed her true colors, but it can also be argued that it's Westeros that made her "Mad," and she simply gave them what they wanted — and what they deserved.

Why Daenerys Still Isn't GoT's Villain

Becoming The Mad Queen Didn't Make Daenerys An Antagonist

Despite her torching-the-innocent season 8 heel turn, Daenerys still isn't even close to being the overall villain in Game of Thrones. Daenerys is simply a product of the cruelty of Westeros — she's a mirror, metaphorically speaking, and a reminder of the destruction that unfolded during eras like House of the Dragon's prequel setting. She also serves as a thematic glimpse into Westeros' future if something doesn't change, and this is a fact Tyrion probably realized all too well when he ensured Bran the Broken 🖕🏼was installed on the throne: he believed it's better to have a ruler with too much knowledge than one with too much firepower. 🖕🏼

Many fans forget just how much Daenerys has gone through. Even though Khal Drogo is a fan-favorite character following the end of GoT, he still raped Daenerys. The fact she forgave him and this was more-or-less brushed aside is one of season 1's chief criticisms, but it's also a strong example of how cruelty in Essos and Westeros created Daenerys the Mad Queen. She's a brutal liberator who lost too much to a hostile world and reacted appallingly while essentially riding a sentient nuke, but she's not at the level of dehumanizing sadism that possesses Ramsay Bolton or Joffrey Baratheon.

Game of Thrones' Dragon Queen is far too well-grounded with backstory and pure of purpose to be the true villain, and she should really be thought of much like her dragons — a force of nature corrupted to become a destructive typhoon instead of the healing rains that could have washed away Westeros' bloated hubris.

[lemonhemlock]

ASOIAF fandom is so hilarious to observe on a sociological level because why are there countless stans who have an almost encyclopedic knowledge of the entire history of Westeros but cannot pick up the most obvious themes and foreshadowing. There are users who can tell me what the Red Keep chimney sweep overheard Maegor saying to one of his 977578 wives on a random Tuesday in 109 A.C. word for word, but does not believe that there is any foreshadowing for Dark Dany, Dany won't burn KL, and even if she does burn KL Martin won't frame it as a bad thing because things like mass casualties happen in war all the time.

I'm sorry but this is insane dfndfndfndfns like it's crazy? It's the most 'cannot see the forest for the trees' fandom I have ever experienced and it's honestly just baffling to witness.

This is a very interesting observation and I think part of the reasoning is certainly rose-coloured glasses & bias for one's favourite character(s). But, IMO, this environment has also festered in the last 12+ years since the publishing of ADWD because people are going nuts with such a large gap between books.

The quandary is that, despite the staunch and sometimes aggressive discourse on the matter, the series has been left in such a spot that really lends itself to various, sometimes contradictory, interpretations (if one is willing to give grace to others and not automatically assume everyone else is shortsighted or peace spoilers). No one likes hearing this because they all have put so much stock into being right by now,* but the truth is that, if you want to mount an argument for Saviour Dany, you can cherry pick some elements from the text, such as Dany's empathy for enslaved people, her emotional thought process, her striving to be kind and just etc - all of which are true enough, because Daenaerys is, thankfully, a well-crafted character and not a two-dimensional white girl pastiche. Likewise, if you're a Dark!Dany belieber (sic) like myself, you're going to be drawn to other recurring motifs in her story, such as her entitlement to a throne that doesn't "belong" to her, her unwillingness to examine her family's problematic past and history with violence, her eagerness to employ that violence in her quest for queenship, her equating social liberation with her simultaneously being at the top of the pyramid, her disinterest in what the people of Westeros actually want, her belief that her decisions are always correct and morally righteous etc.

So, to expand on this example further, could someone really craft a further two books where Daenerys turns into this benevolent queen who comes to be loved by the people of Westeros for selflessly saving them from the ice monsters? Of course someone could, anyone can do anything. Would it be a good story? LOL. Would it be in line with the themes already developed? Double LOL. ASOIAF could also turn out to be a bad story, you know! There's always that possibility. IMO the seeds for her downfall are already there, but the truth is that they're not exceptionally overt for a lot of readers and so they find them hard to accept. If evil why friend-shaped etc.

If everything had gone to plan, these insane debates would not have had time to get so out of hand, because we would have had TWOW published 5-6 years ago and things would have become clearer by now. It's just that GRRM left us off in murky waters, with a text that's ambiguous enough in some places and a fandom that likes to one up each other and is bored enough to seek entertainment in trench wars & endless arguing. And Dany is just one point of contention, you have people out there fighting for their lives about Sansa, about whether Young Gryff is Rhaegar's son or not, about Stannis being the proper ruler for Westeros etc. Something that irks me is how a lot of these fans become so belligerent and can't just accept that sometimes the text we have so far is just vague! Because the story is unfinished! Sometimes it's really not just because everyone else is stupid or racist or misogynist, the text really IS lacking, with two full books missing.

*We also live in rather peculiar times, socially-wise, with the advent of content creators that have literally gone on to make an entire livelihood out of commenting on ASOIAF and presenting theories. Since people are so bored and desperate for some kind of content, they flock to these BNFs and that contributes to the popular interpretations being recycled. When you quit your day job to do this full-time, you kind of become dependent on your audience and feel the need to tell them what they want to hear because otherwise your paycheck is affected. And no one is really eager to forgo paying next month's rent because of something silly like criticising Dany online. This, in turn, influences new fans coming in and searching for information on their favourite characters, so when they encounter the popular talking points for years, of course they're going to take it at face value, because so many people can't be wrong, right?