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starkskeep · 2 years

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From amongst the clouds came the flames (r. stark)

From amongst the clouds came the flames r. stark imagine

Pairings - Robb Stark x Targaryen!Reader

Word Count - 2,307 words

Warnings - Brief mention of assault (non-descriptive), arranged marriage

A/N - A lot of the thoughts of the reader in this imagine, I do not agree with. I wanted to experiment with an unreliable narrator, and thus, mc's experiences will alter how they see the world around them.

Request - don’t know if you still accept requests but could you please write an imagine with Robb and a Targaryen reader who have agreed to an alliance in order to conquer against the lannisters but they always butt heads and she always goes against his words until one night he kind of admits his feelings for her mid argument and they kind of… you know.

You had never expected to be where you were now. As the only living child of Elia Martell and Rhaegar Targaryen, you knew that it was your blood right to sit upon the Iron Throne. The gods had spared you when Tywin Lannister’s Mad Dog stormed the Red Keep and brutally murdered your mother and siblings. A childhood illness had kept you in the arms of your nursemaid that night the woman was quick thinking enough to sneak out through the servant’s quarters amidst the chaos. Pretending you were her child until you were well enough to sail, the faithful servant brought you to Dorne where you were raised by your mother’s family. Treasured by the Martells as the last living connection to Elia, you grew up wanting for nothing. Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. There was never anything that stood in the way of you getting what you wanted.

That is why it was so surprising, as you stood in Oberyn’s chambers at Sunspear, that you heard of how Oberyn was planning to take you far north. He planned to align with the self-proclaimed King of the North and the Trident. “Doran should have never agreed to take Myrcella Baratheon as a ward, much less give her a place in our family. Accepting a Lannister’s deal? It is an insult to Elia’s memory.” Your favorite uncle spits out. He stops pacing and whips around to face you, looking like his moniker amongst the flickering candles. “Dearest niece. I have arranged an alliance in order to combat my brother’s moronic decisions. Tomorrow morning, you will board a ship that will take you to the Riverlands.”

You stare at your uncle in shock. “The Riverlands? But that is where…You are giving me to the Starks? Selling me off to the boy king? I thought I meant more to you than that. I thought the memory of my mother meant more to you than that.” All your life, you had been told of how your father abandoned your mother for Lyanna Stark. He left your family—his wife and children—to die in the Red Keep in the most horrific of ways because he wanted to pursue the Northern woman. You do not fully blame Lyanna. She was a young girl and Rhaegar was the crown prince of the Seven Kingdoms; it would have been hard for her to deny your father. Yet, you do not hold much kindness in your heart for the Starks. From their blood came the final thread to unravel the tapestry of House Targaryen.

The blood rushing past your ears limits how much you actually hear from your uncle, but you know the words that made it pass ring true. “This is a marriage that you are talking about. You know that they will not agree to an alliance unless it is bound by an oath. The Starks believe Lyanna to have been stolen away by my father. They sided against the Targaryens in Robert’s Rebellion. An alliance with them will have to be ironclad for them to even begin to think about helping me. They are not like us. They despise the Dornish tendencies. I will be trapped in a marriage with a man that I do not even know, much less love, unable to find comfort outside of it.” There is pain lingering in the shadows of your words. Dorne is the only home you have known and now you are being forced out of it by your very family. Being sent into the cave of the wolves nestled in an environment very different from the one you grew up in.

Oberyn looks at you with pity. He wishes that there was another course of action that he could have taken in order to give you the Iron Throne on a golden platter. “Yes. It will be a marriage. I will not deny that. It is what Catelyn Stark and I have arranged. She has assured me that her son will not harm you. That is the only thing I can promise you from it. You will have your power. You will have your revenge. In that, you will find your happiness.” Your uncle walks over to you and draws your shaking form into his arms, trying to bring you comfort after his words took it from you. “You will sail to Riverrun in the morning. I have ensured that you will be allowed to bring your dragon. Nym, Obara, and Tyene will join you. They will serve as your companions and as your protectors.” A kiss is placed on the crown of your head. “You will not be alone. I swear to you.”

The journey from Dorne to Riverrrun was long. Made longer by a route carefully constructed in order to avoid detection. Extended even more by the events that will occur once you reach your destination. You are not someone who appreciates being married off. As you exit the ship, swallowing the rising bile in your throat, you spit the bonfires burning in the wolf king’s war camp. Though you do not want to admit it, the army that fights for him seems quite large and will likely fit your needs quite well.

Your small retinue is met by one in turn. A woman you infer to be Lady Catelyn Stark greets you with pity in her eyes. She sees her daughters in you. A young woman suffering from the actions of her parents and their cruel world. The others that join her are most definitely not pitying you. Their eyes are hardened. The Northmen do not trust Targaryens or the Dornish and your hair and features certainly mark you as the blood of both. You are led into the castle of Riverrun and then escorted into the makeshift war council room. Your cousins are forced to wait outside, not allowed inside, and not trusted enough to be privy to the inner workings of the Northern Army. Silencing what you know are protests brewing with one glare, you step inside. Robb Stark and his closest advisors are huddled around a table. Tension fills every crevice of the room. It suffocates you.

Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken. The words of your mother’s house ring in your head as you curtsy. You may show deference to your future husband at the moment but you will never be something to be controlled. “Greetings, Your Grace. It is an honor to be welcomed here in Riverrun.” The words are like poison on your tongue. They taste vile. It is a miracle that you are able to keep your voice and your expression from betraying your true feelings.

Robb looks you up and down. He observes the way you stand, your facial ticks, and the controlled lilt of your voice. You are pretty. The proof of the stories told about House Targaryen’s beauty stands in front of him. With the looks of a queen and pure ambition burning in your violet eyes, there is no doubt that you will make a powerful ally. A true leader fit to rule beside him as long as his people can overcome their historic distrust of your ancestors. You are the blood of the dragon. To Robb, you are an enigma that can never be tamed. “Aye. We have prepared what we had for your arrival.” The Northern king eyes those that surround him, judging their reaction to you before continuing to address you. “I did not want to be a king that had his wife chosen for him. I was raised as a lord with the promise to marry for love. It seems like we are both being forced into this marriage. I do not want to meet you in the Godswood full of false hope. This will be a transactional marriage only. The buildup to this will not be extended. You and I will marry tonight once you have bathed and rested. Do you have any objections to this?”

There are no objections from you nor from anyone else in the room. They all know why this marriage is occurring. You will being Dorne into an alliance with them. Though Robb has expressed no desire for the Iron Throne, those on his council that do believe that you will provide legitimacy for him in the eyes of the people. A Targaryen returned to power by a Stark that rules beside her. The ceremony is rushed. You are wedded and bedded before the sun rises the next morning. A new era begins as the first rays shine over the lands of Westeros.

A marriage of equals proves to be much more butting heads rather than intriguing conversations. There are very few conversations between you and Robb that end in anything other than an argument. How you should act, how you should speak, how Robb should address you etc. The previous argument was about how the food being served at Riverrun was too bland for your taste. You and your cousins were used to the flavorful spices of your home’s dishes. You won that argument and watched on in barely concealed glee as the faces of Robb’s men reddened as their palates were introduced to new tastes. The argument before that was about how the dragon has taken to antagonizing Robb’s men. You explained that your dragon was bored. You were not being allowed to take it on flights as you were in Dorne for fear of your safety. Robb won that argument and your dragon was moved to a field a good distance away from the war camp.

“My queen, you cannot expect a man to be comfortable with sending his wife onto the battlefield.” Robb looks you dead in the eyes as he speaks. He is in total disbelief that his wife wants to join him in the march south. He was raised by his mother and Lady Catelyn is a proper lady. The only girls Robb knows who would willingly ride into battle is the Mormonts of Bear Island and his little sister.

“Me aiding your army with my dragon is one of the reasons we were married. You need me and my beast just as much as you need the Dornish men.”

“I do not care if it is for a second or for a week. A battlefield is not a place for a noblewoman, especially if that woman is my wife and the queen of my people. You will not be put in harm’s way. I have already made up my mind. I will not have my queen join me in battle. This decision is final.”

“I have brought you my dragon and my uncles’ armies yet you still deny me a place beside you. I cannot believe this!”

Authority seeps into Robb’s voice as he responds once more, frustrated with your lack of understanding. “My queen you do not—cannot—understand where I am coming from because you never lived in war. Your entire existence has been one of privilege and freedom. You have never been denied a meal. You have never had to lose a friend to war. You have never had to deliver news of a son’s death to a weeping mother.” Robb shakes his head. “I will not risk the safety of my wife, not while I still draw my breath.”

“I lost my entire family to war and the Lannisters when I was just a babe. It was pure luck that I was able to escape. My mother was brutally assaulted and killed by the Mountain when Tywin Lannister seized the capital. Because of them, I had to grow up without my parents and my siblings. Do not lecture me like I am one of your men.” You spit out. Indignant fury coats every word.

“I am sympathetic but it will not change my decision. Bringing you into battle with me would put everything and everyone at risk. The Lannisters will want your head even more than they want mine. You are the greatest threat to their reign.”

You know you will not be able to win this argument nor will you be able to convince Robb to let you join him in the march. Instead, you turn to leave with a plan already forming deviously in your mind. When you reach the doorway, you turn to have the last word. “I shall sleep in my own chambers tonight. Do not expect me in your bed tonight, Your Grace.” The title is sneered mockingly upon your departure.

A/N - I'm sorry this took so long to post. My life was consumed by schoolwork. I wanted to get this out for the anon who requested it. There will be a second part that reveals MC's plan and it will include the requested smut. It wasn't meant to be two parts but the imagine was already quite long by the time I reached this end. It would be far too much if I were to include the plan and the smut in one part.

#request #robb stark x you #robb stark fanfic #robb stark imagine #robb stark #robb stark x reader #robb stark oneshot

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damn-stark · 2 years

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Chapter 1 Heir to the iron throne

Chapter 1 of Sandstorm

A/N- First chapter I hope you guys like it!

Warning- Y/N has a son, swearing, death and blood, talks of sexual assault, fluff.

Pairing- Jon Snow x Targaryen!fem-reader

Episode- 7x02 & only the beginning of 7x03

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*21 YEARS AGO*

“Mother, when is father going to return?”

He has been gone for months now, you can’t seem to recall what he told you last, but you know you miss him.

“Soon,” your mother assures you and tucks you in bed. “I swear.”

It was always the same answer. Vague, “he’s fighting a war.”.

“Now, Little Sunspot,” your mother continues softly and sits at the other end of your bed. “It’s your turn to pick a story for tonight, so what will it be?”

Without a moment of hesitation you beam at her and give her your answer. “Tell me the story of Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters.”

“Oh no!” Rhaenys whines from her side of the room. “Not that one again, Visenya, pick a different one!”

You pull your blanket over your mouth and snuggle under your blankets. “That’s mine and fathers favorite,” you mumble and then look at your mother to bat your lashes. “Please mother, tell it!”

Your mother offers you a sweet smile and nods in agreement. “I will, but I must warn you, I am not as good as Rhaegar is at telling it, but I will try my best.”

——

Home.

What a fickle thing. Home is as some say where your own family is. But for the 21 years you lived at Sunspear with your family; with your late uncle Oberyn and his daughters you thought of as sisters, and with your late uncle Doran and his son, both of them brothers to your mother, both beloved uncles, it seems you could never find such belonging amongst them.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t feel peace and happiness at Sunspear. Because you did. Yet it’s that sense of belonging that you’ve always craved and missed.

It’s a belonging you hope you’ll find here in Dragonstone, your family’s ancestral home, amongst the only living relative you still have from the House of the Dragon, from your fathers side of the family. Amongst your aunt Daenerys Targaryen.

Your great reunion has been a long time coming, years perhaps, but time only seemed fitting now. Especially since it’s not until recently that she herself has arrived back home, at Dragonstone.

A place you were born at and left a long time ago, a place you did not recall in any of your memories.

Coming upon it in the clouds seems so surreal, like a dream maybe, a faded one. It was a lot grayer than you imagined, colder; but that’s maybe due to the fact that you’re several hundred feet in the sky—The ocean's waters are darker as well; a lot more than the ones at Sunspear. It was strange, truly.

Dragonstone seems a lot smaller too—or seemed a lot smaller, but as you began to descend from the sky the castle became larger. Not only that but now that the clouds didn’t hide you anymore something else came to view, three dragons. They all looked dark and small, but the more you began to descend the larger they got, the more you can see their colored scales.

There was a green one like the green fields of grass, but it seems it’s also mixed with bronze. There was a cream and gold one, smaller than the other two. And the third one was larger, a beautiful black dragon with red mixed within it as well. And without fault all three of them screech, sing their song as they catch sight of Eraxis, your beautiful white She-dragon descend to the sand in front of the castle gates.

All three of them circle Eraxis as she lands. And Eraxis just watches them before she sings, a loud echoing and sharp song.

Once you climb down her and hit the sand, you can’t help but smile at her and caress her neck. “It is alright girl. It’s okay, they're family.”

Eraxis turns her head and tilts it before she looks back up to the sky as the dragons keep circling her.

You look up and smile at the three dragons before you drop your eyes to the sand beneath your shoes, and slowly crouch down to scoop up some of the cold sand in your hand and watch each grain drop out between the gaps between your fingers. You proceed to dust off the sand and rise up again until you hear a soft thump on the sand behind you.

“Welcome home,” you break your silence and begin to grin a soft smile. “Rhaenar.” You look back and meet the pair of dark brown eyes of your son.

Said boy lets out a small breath and looks up the castle gates to slowly examine it and watch the guards that stood in front of them. “It’s cold,” he mutters and buttons the top button of his shirt as if that would make any difference

You sigh softly and nod. “Quite is. Come on, let's get inside then.”

Rhaenar drags his hand along Eraxis as he follows you to the gate, but hesitates to depart from her as you reach the guards.

“I’ve come to see the Queen,” you tell them.

The guards eyes shift over your shoulder and land on the white dragon who watches them intently.

“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “She won’t do any harm.”

The guard's eyes shift back to you before he shifts to push the doors open, finally letting you see the long and grand stairway that leads up to the castle.

“Come Rhaenar,” you tell the boy who you know has probably only moved an inch from the dragon.

“And if she does not like us?” He asks in a timid voice that let his Dornish accent come out even after he tries to hide it.

You sigh and turn to reach him. “You do not have to worry about that my Sunspot,” you assure him. “Okay? She is family, your grandfather's sister, it will take some time to get used to one another but I am sure she will love you.”

Rhaenar lowers his gaze and nods, letting you smile as you cup his cheek. “And do not hide your accent, what would your uncle say?”

“Targaryens do not talk like me, mother,” he mutters and fists his hands.

You scoff. “Who said that?”

Rhaenar goes quiet, so you grab his face with both hands and press him. “Rhaenar, tell me.”

“Myself, books I have read about our family,” he whispers.

You sigh. “Oh my sweet boy, we talk how we damn want to, no one can tell us otherwise. Not books of old dead ancestors. Be proud you are part Dornish. That only makes you more fierce than any other Targaryen.” You smirk and brush the strands of hair out of his face. “Come. Let’s go.”

You turn back to face the gate and offer him your hand, but he just scoffs and shakes his head.

Now without any more delay and falters, both Rhaenar and you walk up the long stairway, catching Eraxis now flying overhead, keeping her distance from the other dragons flying in the sky. You can see the grand castle getting closer and closer.

Yet, before you can reach the castle gates, an army of unsullied, and tall, dark and muscular men in fur garments walk out and meet you halfway.

“Halt there,” a slender and tall man orders, causing you to do as he said.

“I have come to see the Queen,” you inform him. “I am…family.”

“Doubtful,” you hear a familiar voice interject between the crowd of men. “Who are you…” the moment the men part to the side to let him meet you halfway, the tiny man trails off and looks at you in shock and yet a puzzled look.

You scoff in amusement and smile mischievously as you instantly come to recognize the short man. “I am sorry, Lord Tyrion, it seems the last time we met, my hair was a different color.”

The small man hums and loses the confusion and now looks more serious. “Y/N Sand. Prince Oberyn’s daughter. I thought Dorne was not meant to get here yet.”

You shake your head. “No, but they are on the way, I,” you glance up at Eraxis and smile, “flew here.” You glance down at him. “And my name is not Sand. I am Princess Y/N Targaryen Martell,” you reveal yourself. “If you want to get technical, my true name my father gave me is Visenya, but well…I’ve grown accustomed to my new name.” You sigh. “I am the niece of your Queen. I have come to meet her, to join her.”

Lord Tyrion studies you for a brief moment with doubt lingering in his stare, making you smirk.

“Do you wish for me to prove myself to you, my Lord? Wash my hair? Bleed my veins, or tell my dragon a command?” You retort.

Lord Tyrion sighs and shakes his head. “No. Please none of that. I was just trying to progress the fact that a supposed dead princess is standing right in front of me.” He counters.

You swallow thickly. “I was never presumed dead, was I?” You ask rhetorically. “Nevertheless, I have no reason to lie, nor am I, Eraxis can prove that.”

Tyrion looks up at the white dragon and watches her as she keeps circling the area.

“Well,” Lord Tyrion says and meets your gaze. “Greetings Princess. It is very nice to finally meet you.” He offers you a faint smile. “Now please if you don’t mind please hand your weapons over.”

Usually parting from your weapon is a condition you don’t like to follow, but in this case it’s only fair, besides these large handsome men didn’t seem like they were going to let you pass if you didn’t follow orders.

“Rhaenar,” you say and hold a tall man’s dark gaze as he watches you unsheath your weapons. “Hand over your weapons.”

Without arguing, your son does as he’s told and hands his sword and daggers to the men, leaving you to bend down to unsheath the daggers you have hidden under your dress.

“Dothraki, I assume,” you comment as you keep holding the man’s gaze with a sly smirk.

“Yes,” Lord Tyrion confirms. “The Queens warriors.”

You stand up to your given height and catch the tall, dark man smirking at you as he takes your weapons. You then smirk back at him.

“Follow me,” Lord Tyrion breaks the tension and pulls your gaze back to him. “The Queen is already waiting.”

When you walk inside, the soldiers that had come out to greet you continue to follow you inside. They surround Rhaenar and you, and don't let you take in your surroundings very well.

“I do pardon for such a cold greeting,” Lord Tyrion interjects. “We just don’t know the true intentions of you or your…dragon.”

You scoff. “Do not worry, Lord Tyrion, I understand.”

“Tyrion,” he corrects you. “I am not the Lord of anything now.”

“My apologies.”

“It’s alright,” he assures you and brings his army of men and you to a halt in front of big black doors that lead to only one obvious room, the Throne Room.

Now it’s closer than ever. The moment you have dreamed of since you found out about her being alive. Beside your son Rhaenar, she was the last piece of family you have remaining from your Targaryen bloodline.

Her….

Let’s just say that happiness isn’t the most powerful feeling you feel now. Rhaenar senses that it seems, your nerves, and reaches for your hand to give it a gentle squeeze.

You look down at him and offer him a soft smile before you secure your hold around his hand.

Before the doors can be opened, Tyrion asks for your name and titles. It’s only after you give it to him that the guards begin to push the doors open, letting the gray dimly lit throne come to view.

As you proceed to walk inside, you see her. She’s sitting so poise on that stone throne at the end of the room. You see the color of her silver-white hair that matches yours. You see her fancy black garments and her red cloak elegantly hanging off her chair. You see her pale face, her blue eyes. You see her, your aunt, the Queen. She’s there, she’s real.

“Princess Y/N Targaryen, Princess of Dorne, and Daughter of late Prince Rhaegar Targaryen,” Tyrion announces as you keep slowly walking inside.

Now you notice a bald man, a man you know as Lord Varys. You catch his gaze narrow, and see him take a slow step forward as if fascinated by your presence. You then don’t fail to notice the Queen's face twist to something you can read as disbelief and…anger.

“Prince Rhaenar Targaryen, son of the princess.”

You come to a stop before you can reach the unsullied guards standing in front of the steps that lead to the throne, and let go of Rhaenar’s hand to curtsey; while he bows to the Queen.

“My Queen,” you say and return your gaze back on her as you stand up straight. “It is an honor finally getting to meet you.”

“You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of house Targaryen. Rightful heir to the Iron Throne, Rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains.” A woman with brown skin, and dark curly hair announces the mouthful of titles that must be a pain in the ass to see each time.

Nevertheless, Queen Daenerys holds your gaze and retorts. “I am sorry I am not rejoiced by your presence. Until now I had no idea you were alive.” She slightly raises her eyebrows as she seems to pierce her glare in you.

You scoff in amusement. “That’s good, it means my uncles did a good job in hiding me from the world that wanted me dead,” you rebuttal confidently and pass a discreet glance at Tyrion. “But I do swear to you on my fathers memory that I am who I say I am. I mean…if I wasn’t would I have come flying on a dragon?” You smirk. Yet no one else finds it so amusing.

“You have no reason to believe me,” you continue. “But I do know people who know of me.” You glance over at Lord Varys standing a bit a ways from the Queen, and make her gaze drift to the man.

“Lord Varys, can you attest to her word? Can you prove that who stands before me really is a niece I have thought long dead?” She asks and looks at you.

The Lord slowly steps forward and stops at the top step to study you from closer.

“Yes, I can,” Tyrion speaks up and walks to the top step. “I can attest to her word. I have met her before. However, back then she went by another name.”

You scoff and nod. “Yes. Back then I went by Sand. I was just another bastard daughter to my uncle Oberyn Martell, but it was for my own safety. After all, it is his family who wanted me dead.”

Tyrion nods and accepts your accusation. “Yes. It was my family.”

You clench your jaw and let out a deep sigh.

“Her uncle died for me,” Tyrion continues. “He was a good man. That is why I trust her word.”

The Queen slowly stands up from the chair and begins to head your way, yet she stops at Tyrion’s side. “If it is you. If you do have a dragon, where have you been this entire time?” She asks you.

You clasp your hands in front of you and part your lips to speak, but then Lord Varys speaks up before you could. “She was hiding, by her uncle's demand. Sworn to keep her identity a secret until the right time came. As was I.”

The Queen shifts her head to the side to look at her Lord.

“She is who she says she is. She is Princess Visenya Targaryen, daughter of your brother Rhaegar Targaryen. She is blood of your blood, My Queen.”

You shake your head and correct them. “No. It’s Y/N. Not Visenya. Not anymore.”

The Queen begins to glare at the man for a second before she finally returns her gaze to you and begins to step down the steps to meet you halfway.

She then continues to study you, to check out the gold dragon scale corset over your red dress, the golden rings on your fingers, the golden snake around your bicep. She looks at your silver-white hair probably trying to see if your hair color was actually real and not fake, or if you were actually real or not. Her eyes then shift to Rhaenar for a brief second before returning to look at you again.

You don’t do anything, you let her take her time, and take this time to study her too; to realize how beautiful she is, how tiny she is as well now that she’s not sat on the throne.

“Who might you be?” The Queen breaks her silence and looks back at Rhaenar.

Said boy bows and then tries his best to once again hide his Dornish accent. “I am Prince—”

You clear your throat to correct him, making the Queen glance at you in confusion before returning to look at your boy.

“I am Prince Rhaenar Sand, your Grace,” he shares in his normal voice, and this time you glance at him slightly concerned since he refers to himself as Sand.

The Queen scoffs softly and her lips are just faintly showing a smile. “Sand?” She questions.

Rhaenar nods. “I am a bastard,” he tells her, making you sigh.

“And like I have told him before,” you interject. “That does not matter. That does not change who you are descended from.”

Daenerys nods. “Your mother is correct,” she agrees in your defense. “You are still the blood of the dragon aren't you? You are a Targaryen first and foremost.”

Rhaenar shrugs. “I suppose.”

The Queen offers a soft laugh before she looks at you. “Let’s take a walk.”

You nod, and without a fault when you walk out, the curly headed woman, the Unsullied, and the Dothraki warriors follow you out and walk behind you like lurking shadows. It’s something you have never grown unaccustomed to after your years of being somewhat free in Dorne.

“What’s your dragon's name?” The Queen asks once you’re out of the castle and walking up a stairwell that leads to some place you can’t see yet.

“Her name is Eraxis,” you share with a faint smile.

Queen Daenerys eyes snap to you, and you catch her surprise at your comment.

“Your dragon is a female?” She questions.

You nod. “Yes. She is. Or at least that’s what I like to say, I don’t think we can really place a gender on a dragon.” You smile.

The Queen nods. “Yes, I suppose we can’t.”

A screech sounds from the sky before Eraxis flies down past you. Both the Queen and you look up to watch her, to admire how her white scales glimmer like diamonds against the sun's rays; to watch as she let her large wings soared, and how her horned tail swung to the side as she flew up.

“She’s…quite big,” the Queen points out with an admiring smile. “How old is she?”

Once Eraxis passes, the Queen's black dragon flies past you to follow Eraxis up in the sky.

“She is fifteen,” You answer softly, and catch her swallow thickly before she brings you to a stop so you can watch the both of your dragons as they begin to twirl up to the sky together, like if they’re dancing. Like if they were familiar with one another already.

“It seems Drogon is quite taken by Eraxis already,” the Queen says. “That should be good.”

You rest your hands on the stone before you and nod. “It is. It means Eraxis won’t be alone anymore.” You look down to look at the Queen. “What are the names of your other dragons?”

The Queen drops her gaze and answers, “the green one is Rhaegal, I named him after your father.”

Your smile falters, and your eyes go soft.

“And the gold and cream one is Viserion, named after my brother, Viserys.”

Ah. Him. The youngest brother. The uncle you only have one memory of, and it’s not a pleasant one.

“If I may ask,” the Queen continues. “How was Eraxis born to you?”

The story is something you hardly know how to explain to make it sound sane. Yet it is one people ask for a lot.

“To be honest,” you laugh softly. “It’s going to sound funny, but…” you avert your gaze and begin messing with your rings. “…a dream…”

You hear the Queen's feet shift against the stone ground at the sound of your comment.

“…it was a dream I scarcely remember anymore. But it was of my dragon being born from fire and blood.” You let out a deep breath and slowly look up to once again meet her gaze. Now you notice her look slightly disbelieved.

“It was fate then,” the Queen interjects softly.

You shrug and smile faintly at your rings. “Perhaps.”

You could tell her what you did to have the egg hatch, every detail. You can tell her that even if you don’t recall every detail of the dream, you still have a fragment of it painted so it could keep your mind from clouding at that time.

Yet you don’t.

At least it doesn’t seem so fit yet. Instead you let the conversation drift, you let her continue to lead you up the steps. And it’s now that you can see you’re being walked to some green cliffs where you spot her two other dragons resting.

“I have heard a lot of great things about you, not only because I have made it my job to keep myself informed, but word travels. I am more than in awe, I am fascinated,” you share sweetly, and make her smile a lot more timidly.

Yet when you reach the cliff her smile begins to falter, a serious and almost threatening look paints on her face as she comes to a stop and faces the ocean.

“If you have been alive this whole time why have you not tried to take what’s yours,” she says seriously. “You have the right claim, you, my brother's last living heir.”

You look away from her and face the ocean as well to watch the horizon as you think of what to say. Something that would sound like you’re not lying. “There’s many reasons, one, I am a woman. My claim is not as strong.”

“But you have a son,” she cuts in.

You nod and peer back at Rhaenar, catching him watching the dragons with awe. “A bastard. In Dorne they might not be shamed, but here they are. They would never accept my son, even if he is my fathers grandson.” You sigh and face her. “There is also time,” you reveal carefully. “My uncle had a plan, we couldn’t just risk ourselves by flying down to Kings Landing and burning everything. We needed a lot of time, ally’s, and resources. I actually was meant to marry your brother, but,” you scoff with a playful smile on your face, and catch her stare. “Before the proposal was officially announced, well, we heard the news he passed.”

The Queen scoffs and smirks. “Maybe it was a good thing,” she interjects, making you slightly furrow your brows in confusion. “I loved my brother, but I don’t think he would’ve made a good husband. Especially not to someone who already had a dragon before him.”

You laugh softly. “Is that so?” You query. “Well I for one was quite excited. More so for the promise of seeing the family I thought I had lost.”

The Queen lowers her gaze before she goes serious again, letting you continue.

“Anyway, before much else could be done my uncle…died, and the dream died with him.” You swallow thickly and let out a deep sigh. “Albeit, I can’t say I ever shared his dream, that's another reason I haven’t tried to claim what’s “mine”. I never had a desire to rule. Not after what happened. That’s why I have not taken the throne, that’s why I am here. Why, I sent Dorne to ally with you.” You meet her gaze and raise your head proudly.

“I don’t want the throne for myself. I want to help you take it,” you share confidently. “I want to take back what is ours with fire and blood, I want Cersei to pay for what her family did to mine. I know,” you sigh. “You have no reason to trust me, but know that I am done hiding and tired of doing nothing. I want my son to be proud of me, I don’t want him to hide anymore either. I just want to help you, at your side, united like family. Just like how Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters did, together.”

Daenerys continues to look at you with a threatening and piercing glare, she lets out a deep breath and looks past her shoulder. And without saying anything both her dragons walk over, causing Rhaenar to step back. When her dragons stand behind her you see the same burning, piercing glare that their mother carries.

“If it’s true, bend the knee,” she orders in a menacing tone. “Swear to me that you nor your son will go against me, that you will fight alongside me and help me win this war to take back what belongs to our family. Swear to me, Y/N Targaryen, and you and your son will have a place in my court. You will keep your title as Princess, your son as Prince. If not….” She pauses and her dragons begin growl. Yet you don’t react out of fear, you hold her gaze and stay calm.

“…I would hate to consider my last living relatives as traitors.” She finishes.

You look back at Rhaenar, and he meets your gaze, and together without hesitation you get down on one knee and look up to meet her gaze. “I swear to you,” you assure her. “I swear I will have no ill intentions. I will not fight against you. I will fight at your side.”

Daenerys begins to smirk and continues to walk over to you to offer you her hand. You’re confused at first, but when you take it she helps you up to your feet and keeps you in front of her for a moment, before she pulls you in for an embrace.

You’re caught off guard for a brief second, but once you feel her grip tighten you return the embrace and clutch onto her with relief, and joy.

Finally after years, here she is. You’re finally together.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Nights were already hard to sleep. Returning to Dragonstone sounded like it could be a solution to your restless nights, to the nightmares that plague your mind, but the bitter night air made it harder. There was some reassurance in the morning when you woke up and saw that meeting Daenerys wasn’t some fever dream. She was real.

As slow as things are between her and you currently considering you only just met, she was a comfort, that instant familiarity. Plus, you shared the restless night and got to speaking about everything you were missing about her current progress of the war, you spoke of other mindless things until the sun broke the sky. After the sun started to rise from the earth, you shared a mutual craving and spent no time finding your dragons.

“What’s on Eraxis back?” Daenerys points to the saddle on your dragon's back as she lowers her neck down to the ground.

“A saddle,” you say slowly and find it surprising she had to ask. “I can’t ride her bareback, not anymore at least, I have the scars on my thighs to prove that,” you laugh softly and approach Eraxis to grab one of her many horns that align her neck. “It helps me steer her too. And since Rhaenar rides her with me, I had it made so he wouldn’t fall off.”

Daenerys approaches Eraxis and then glances at you. “May I?” She asks and points to your dragon's body.

You nod, and watch Daenerys turn and begin to smile at your dragon as she carefully begins to stroke a part of her neck.

“I find it quite easy to ride Drogon with no saddle,” she shows off, making you scoff in amusement. “Then again it’s not like I have had much of an education besides what feels natural, and the few books I did have.”

You hum and smile at her. “Well don’t worry, I am here now. I can teach you all I’ve learned about our family.”

Daenerys eyes drift to you and her gaze softens as a softer smile appears on her lips.

“Now,” you say playfully and begin to climb onto Eraxis. “Let’s fly, yes?” You smirk down at her, and Daenerys begins to grin before she rushes over to Drogon to climb on him.

Since this won’t be a long flight, you don’t bother restraining yourself on her, you just climb on your saddle and grab your handles before you speak to Eraxis in High Valyrian. “<Fly, girl.>”

Without hesitation Eraxis begins to run off the hill, and Drogon follows, creating thunderous stomps on the green hill until both dragons flap their wings and take flight.

At first Daenerys and you are riding side to side, glancing once at one another with playful looks as both dragons gain more momentum and fly higher. However, it’s once Eraxis reaches the clouds that you turn her to her side, exposing her belly to Drogon, before you then drift to the left to hide within the clouds.

Drogon calls out for Eraxis, most likely to know her whereabouts, but Eraxis stays quiet and flaps her wings, blowing air and clouds behind her before she twirls upward rapidly and shoots out above Drogon. Once again the black dragon calls out, and this time Eraxis responds. You then lift your body off the saddle to peek down, catching Daenerys urge Drogon forward so she could lead, instead of being right under you.

You grin at the action and push the handle forward, causing Eraxis to flap her wings harder and get ahead of Drogon with ease. Daenerys looks up and sees, and then as if they have been mentally communicating, Drogon flies up.

Before they both could lose them, you motion Eraxis to fly up as well. Now both dragons have their bellies exposed to one another as you all fly up.

The dragons screech, and you snicker before you lean forward and exclaim happily, “<Dracarys!>”

Eraxis blows out a cloud of fire, and as Drogon was going to approach it, you make Eraxis drift to the side so you both could then begin diving down.

Daenerys doesn’t notice you flying in front of her anymore until she’s past the fire cloud. And when she sees you and Eraxis diving down, she beams and makes Drogon do the same.

Since gravity is what is pulling you down, Daenerys and Drogon don’t take long to catch up, but Eraxis and you do end up beating her to the surface of the ocean water. Albeit before Eraxis could splash in, she instead flies up and only lets her body barely skim above the water, creating ripples on the surface as she flies past.

Drogon and Daenerys on the other hand drift to the side and he skims the tip of his wing in the water as he flies at his side. When he fixes himself he then flies at your side, letting Daenerys and you turn your heads to smile at one another.

Now as little as you have known one another, there was a sense of a connection no one else can understand. For the first time you both could share the joys of flying with another soul, for the first time it wasn’t just the two of you alone in the skies with your dragons. It was now you and her. Her and you. Together.

However, as you flew, as you got closer to the castle, you could now spot Dorne, Greyjoy, and Tyrell ships sailing to Dragonstone. Daenerys sees them too, but instead of flying above them like you, she flies ahead without you. Yet you don’t stay just above them for long, you instead fly to the first Dorne ship leading the way and stay flying by it.

And since only the people you were truly closest to, and a few trusted guards knew of Eraxis, those who didn’t gawked as they saw you on a dragon, and as they literally saw a dragon. Those who did know about Eraxis however, like Tyene, looked excited and happy to see her again. Your other sisters climbed out to deck to watch Eraxis too, but unlike Tyene, they watched with more calm and collected demeanors.

Once you landed on the sand to wait for them to get to shore, Tyene shares that same excitement for your dragon when she arrives. She didn’t even bother to greet you.

“Eraxis!” She exclaims and rushes past you to reach Eraxis. And since Tyene, Nymaria, Tyrstane, and Obara helped you raise her, Eraxis was comfortable around their presence and didn't fail to let herself get caressed.

“This is where you wanted to come to so badly?” Nymeria asks in a teasing manner as she and Obara approach you after they climb off the boat.

You look back at the castle gates and nod. “This is where I was born…albeit I do prefer Dornes heat, and the Water Gardens.”

“It’s very bland,” Obara doesn't hold back from saying.

You hum as you can’t help but agree since you are used to more color because of where you were raised.

“How is it going?” You hear your late uncle's paramour, Ellaria, ask as she approaches all of you.

You glance at her and swallow thickly before you speak. “Good. I’ve made peace with my aunt, we were just bonding.” You meet her gaze briefly, but can’t stand looking at her for too long because all you see when you look at her is her with a knife in your uncle's stomach; all you can see is his death, you remember him dying in your arms after you were too late to save him.

You remember pain and grief, and feel it all over again. Ellaria is only alive now because of the love your uncle Oberyn had for her, you only tolerate her because she's Tyene’s mother. Otherwise she would no longer be here.

“Rhaenar is inside,” you say and look back at your sisters. “He’s excited to see you all again. It’s as if he hasn’t seen you in months.”

Obara smirks at the mention, and before you could spend more time out in the chilly air they follow you inside.

——

*LATER*

“If you want the Iron Throne, take it,” Yara Greyjoy tells Daenerys, making her turn to face the table you're all gathered around. “We have an army, a fleet, and four dragons now. We should hit Kings Landing now. Hard. With everything we have. The city will fall within a day.”

You scoff to yourself and drop your gaze to the table.

“If we turn the dragons loose, tens of thousands will die in the firestorm,” Tyrion protests.

“It’s called war,” Ellaria interjects. “You don’t have the stomach for it, scurry back into hiding.”

You roll your eyes and proceed to lift your leg over the other.

“I know how you wage war,” Tyrion snaps. “We don’t poison little girls here. Myrcella was innocent.”

“She was a Lannister. There are no innocent Lannister’s,” Ellaria says, and to some degree you can agree with her. But not about what she did, not about Myrcella; like Tyrion said she was innocent, she was also never cruel, not to you, not to Rhaenar. You can understand Tyrion’s anger. Yet you can’t accept their bickering, not if you’re meant to be ally’s now.

“My great regret is that Oberyn died fighting for you,” Ellaria continues to spat, finally causing you to cut in.

“Ellaria, that's enough. Please. Tyrion is the hand of the Queen, you will treat him with respect.” Without bothering to look back you glance over at Tyrion and sigh. “More so because we both know my uncle died fairly. Tyrion is no one to blame for my uncle's carelessness. Besides…” you peer back to side eye her. “You would find it wise to try and forgive him just as I have forgiven you for what you have done.”

There is a bit of silence for a lingering second before Ellaria talks back. “Yes, Princess.”

You hum and let the meeting continue.

“I am not here to be Queen of the ashes,” Daenerys finally inputs.

“That’s very nice to hear,” Lady Olenna of House Tyrell interjects. “Of course, I can’t remember a Queen who was better loved than my granddaughter. The common people loved her. The nobles loved her. And what is left of her now? Ashes. Commoners, nobles, they’re all just children, really. They won’t obey you unless they fear you.”

You glance down, clasp your hands over your knee and let out a small sigh. “May I add something?” You interject and gain everyone’s attention.

“Go on,” Daenerys encourages you.

You sit back and share what comes to mind. “A century back, when our ancestors were fighting amongst each other in the Dance of Dragons…it’s those same commoners that raided the Dragonpit and killed our dragons.” You glance at Daenerys, and then at Lady Olenna. “And I know for damn sure that dragons were feared back then as they are now. Burning Kingslanding down will turn everyone against us. We have to be smarter. We have to make them fear us without killing the people.”

Daenerys nods in comprehension and pulls her gaze away from you to look at Lady Olenna. “I’m grateful to you, Lady Olenna, for your counsel,” Daenerys says. “I’m grateful to all of you. But you have chosen to follow me, I will not attack King's Landing. We,” she makes her word clear. “Will not attack King's Landing.”

You nod in agreement, but Lady Olenna on the other hand doesn’t seem so convinced.

“Then how do you mean to take the Iron Throne?” She questions. “By asking nicely?”

“We will lay siege to the capital surrounding the city on all sides,” Daenerys shares. “Cersei will have the Iron Throne, but no food for her army or the people.”

“But we won’t use Dothraki and Unsullied,” Tyrion adds after your aunt. “Cersei will try to rally the Lord of Westeros by appealing to their loyalty.” He begins to walk around the table as he continues to speak. “Their love for their country. If we besiege the city with foreigners, we prove her point. Our army should be Westerosi.”

“And I suppose we’re providing the Westerosi?” Ellaria questions,

Tyrion nods. “You are,” he agrees. “Lady Greyjoy will escort you home to Sunspear.”

You slowly begin to put your leg back and lean in as your interest is piqued.

“And her Iron Fleet will ferry the Dornish army,” Tyrion continues, “back up to King's Landing. The Dornish will lay siege to the capital alongside the Tyrell army. Two great kingdoms United against Cersei.”

“So,” Lady Olenna quips. “Your master plan is to use our armies. Forgive me for asking, but why did you bother to bring your own?”

Tyrion places down a dragon figurine that represents Daenerys and her people as he begins to explain and walk again. “The Unsullied will have another objective. For decades House Lannister has been the true power in Westeros. And the seat of that power is Casterly Rock. Greyworm—” you have learned that he is one the Queen's most trusted war advisors, and the commander of the Unsullied army, an old friend now to describe it better.

“…will dial for the Rock and take it,” Tyrion continues and knocks down a lion figure to place down the dragon, leaving a silence to linger thereafter as everyone takes in what was explained.

Yet, it’s you who breaks that silence rather quickly to comment on something else. “In regards to the upcoming siege on Kings Landing, I will meet up with them on Eraxis.”

Both Lady Greyjoy, and Ellaria turn their heads to look at you, and agree with their look alone.

Yet...“no, that would not be wise,” Tyrion interjects. “People still believe you’re dead, Princess. We can use that to our advantage.”

You scoff and argue, “what better way to reveal myself than to stand with my people? Cersei’s fleet will be there as well, I will fight with my people.”

Tyrion looks back at Daenerys to share a quick look before they look to Lord Varys, and all come to a speechless agreement.

“Go then,” Daenerys says. “When the day comes you can meet with the army and stand to fight alongside them.”

You offer her a kind smile and nod. “Thank you, my Queen.”

Daenerys offers you a nod herself, and then rather than letting the meeting proceed you share one more question.

“What about the North? Have we heard anything from the King?”

Lord Varys steps forward and responds this time. “No. Not yet.”

You hum and sit back to continue on the matter. “Well, as we well know, the North is made up of proud people. The Starks as well have just taken back their house, what will we do if they want to keep being an independent Kingdom?”

“You have dragons,” Lady Greyjoy interjects.

You scoff. “So did Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters when they wanted Dorne to pledge their allegiance to them. What did we do? We resisted for years.” You remind them.

Daenerys slightly narrows her gaze and questions your comment. “What is it you’re trying to say then?”

You begin to smirk and meet her gaze. “Well if they come on their own accord. Listen to them. I doubt they’ll come just to bend the knee, no, they probably want something. If they resist.” You pause briefly. “Then offer them a marriage proposal. What better way to unite the grand Kingdoms than through marriage of the Queen and King?”

Daenerys quirks her brow in disbelief to your suggestion, and Tyrion speaks for her. “That could work. Winter is among us. They will need food for their people, what better way to sway them than to bargain. It will be hard to decline.

Daenerys swallows thickly and interjects. “I hear you, Princess. I agree, but we will decide what to do when the time comes.”

You hesitate before you nod agreement, causing the silence to return for a moment before Daenerys continues to interject. “Do I have your support?”

Lady Greyjoy steps up first. “You have mine,” she adds.

Without hesitation you follow, “Dorne is with you, Your Grace.”

Lastly Olenna nods agreement, and with that this meeting is settled.

“Thank you all,” Daenerys ends the meeting. “Lady Olenna, may I speak with you alone?”

You get out of your seat and walk out of the room alongside Ellaria since you’re both going to the same place.

And it’s a quiet walk at first, you both wait for everyone else to pass by and get out of earshot first. Even then when you were approaching the hall your family was in, neither of you could right away say what you both had to say.

First actually, when you were reaching your chambers, you spoke to the guard bringing in your things. “How are my paintings? Did they make it alright?”

The Dornish guard nods. “Yes, my Lady.”

“Princess,” Ellaria corrects him. “Y/N is a Princess, you shall address her as such.

The guard looks nervously between her and you and immediately bows his head. “My apologies, my Princess.”

You shake your head. “It is quite alright. Go on please.”

The guard nods. “Neither your, nor the…Prince’s items got damaged.”

You offer him a faint smile. “Thank you,” you say and then continue to the hall.

This time Ellaria finds the courage to speak. “How can you not be angry? How can you even look at him after what he’s done to your family?”

You sigh and begin to mess with the rings on one hand. “You know why, Ellaria. He is not mine to make leave, nor is he at fault for my uncle's death. You have accepted the facts of his death. We were there that day, we saw.” You glance over at her, and she meets your gaze. “In regards to…my mother and siblings, it is other Lannisters I set my anger on. I suggest you do the same if you want to keep having a chair at that council, I can't let your anger get in the way.”

Ellaria lets her gaze linger on you as she scowls for a brief moment before she nods. “I will try,” she says.

You nod and offer her a faint smile. “That's all I ask,” you tell her before you open the hall doors and make yourselves known to your sisters and your son.

“Mother!” Rhaenar greets and breaks away from his fighting stance to run over and greet you.

You grin down at him. “Hello, my Sunspot, what have you been doing?”

He points back to Obara. “Aunt Obara and I were just training.”

You smirk and ruffle his dark curly hair. “Did she kick your ass?” You tease him as you make your way to the wine tray.

Obara begins to snicker. “He held his own for a few minutes. It is a much better improvement.”

You grab a cup and serve yourself some Dornish wine before walking over to sit with your back facing the fire so it’s easier to face your family. Whilst Rhaenar returns to Obara to pick up the stuff they had around them.

“Dorne will be part of the siege on King’s Landing,” you share with your sisters.

Tyene stands from her chair and begins to smirk. “Are we?” She questions. “Does that mean we can finally kill Cersei?”

You snicker. “I wish it were that easy. Albeit if all goes well, we will be one step closer.”

“Will you accompany us?” Nymeria asks.

You nod and take a sip of wine before speaking. “I will. Once you reach King’s Landing I will go on Eraxis and help fight the enemy fleet.”

“We will be done in no time then,” Tyene says cockily.

You smirk and nod in agreement. You then proceed to take a longer sip of wine, and when you set your cup down you share a thought you've had since you knew you were coming here.

“I have a proposal for you, sisters.” You sit up and look between the three of them. “After this siege, I want the three of you to join me in the fights to come. I want you to be by my side.”

“Like what? Your ladies in waiting?” Obara asks teasingly.

You scoff and shake your head. “Not quite. More so my protectors. I may have Eraxis, but one can never be so sure now that I am going to reveal myself to Westeros again. Of course only if you want, I won’t force you.”

All three girls look at one another, and Tyene looks at her mother before the three of them look back at you.

“I will join you,” Tyene says first. “Father would have wanted us to stick together. Besides,” she begins to smirk mischievously. “It seems there’s a lot of Dothraki men here I would like to get to know.”

You smile, and then look at Nymeria as she interjects. “I will also join your side.”

Lastly, Obara walks over to be in your pherial view and says her response. “I will also join you too, sister.”

“Yes!” Rhaenar exclaims as he runs over to be a part of the conversation. “Does it mean we won’t have to be apart?”

You glance at him and assure him. “Yes. Exactly.”

Rhaenar grins with excitement, causing Tyene to ruffle his hair whilst he turns to face Ellaria. “What about you aunt Ellaria?” He asks. “Will you stay with us?”

Ellaria draws in a deep breath and shakes her head. “No, little warrior,” she sighs. “I will have to stay with our armies. But I will come see you frequently.”

Rhaenar gets comforted by her response and then takes a seat amongst you all.

In the meanwhile you lift your cup of wine and offer a toast. “Thank you, sisters. And to our bond, may it only get stronger.”

All three of them lift their cups and Tyene is the one that interjects with excitement. “To us! And to our battles to come!”

——

*A YEAR BACK*

The doors locked. The windows are sealed.

Why—

Footsteps are approaching the door.

“Rhaenar?” You call out in hopes it’s your son. “Rhaenar, is that you?”

The footsteps stop and a thud sounds at your door. You run back to your door and try to open them again, but to no avail.

“Rhaenar?” You call again and try to peek through the doors creak. But there’s nothing there. You get on your hands and knees to peek at the creek below and see only boots.

“Hey! Let me out! Guards! Let me out!” You yell and jump back up to your feet. “What’s the meaning of this?!” You pound your fists on the door before you begin to kick it. “Let me out! Let me out! Let me out or I will feed you to my dragon!”

There's a shift at the sound of that threat. Yet the damned door remains closed.

“Do you hear me out there? I will feed you to my dragon,” you curse and step back to look around your room for anything that could knock this door down. “Let me talk to my uncle!” You yell as you search your room until you think of your daggers, and sneak over to snatch them from the chest.

“I will give you one more chance,” you sneer and tiptoe back to the door to pick the lock. “Open…” you pause as you hear the lock click. “The door,” you mutter before you throw the doors open, startling the guards that were for some reason placed outside.

“What's going on?” You demand to know from the guards as you point your daggers at them. “Where is my uncle?”

The guard to the right clenches his jaw and gives you an answer. “Go back to your room, Princess.”

You scoff and then lunge at him to throw him back to the wall and point your blade at his throat. “Tell me now,” you sneer and side-eye the other guard who keeps his hands out to show that he won’t hurt you. “What is going on? It’s only a matter of minutes I assume before my dragon comes to me. Should I throw you to her first? Or you,” you point at the watching guard.

“The prince's chambers, he’s there,” the watching guard spits out.

“See,” you scoff and drop your dagger before letting the guard go and stepping back. “Easy. Next time you disobey, I will make Eraxis eat you.” You offer them a sweet smile before you turn and storm over to your uncle's chambers.

And as you pass halls and step outside, guards begin to look at you weirdly, they pass odd looks between one another and give you second looks as they watch you storm past them. The closer you get to your uncle's chambers, the more suspicious they get. They even try to stop you, but you just ignore them and quicken your pace.

Once you begin to see the pool outside his quarters, the guards try to grab you, but you just swiftly slip past them without hassle.

“Princess wait!” One of them yells before you can turn the corner of the patio to reach your uncle's quarters. “Princess!”

He runs after you, and as guards around his pool see you approaching, they unstiffen from their stance and try to rush over to you. Yet you just run past them until you get to the steps of the deck. That’s when you notice the dead Maester and a pool of blood dripping down the steps. As you slowly look up you see Areo Hotah dead next to where Tyene is standing. Next to her is Ellaria pulling a dagger out of your uncle.

“No!” You immediately cry out and gain the attention of your cousin Tyene. “No!” You try to run over to him as he falls to the ground, but Tyene runs over to hold you back. “No!” You sob.

Your uncle Doran flips over and reaches his hand out to you. You try to pull away from Tyene, but guards then help her keep you away.

“When was the last time you left this palace?” Ellaria snaps at your uncle. “You don’t know your own people. Their disgust for you.”

Your uncle begins to cough out blood, but he keeps trying to drag himself away, making you try to squirm with more force to try and reach him.

“Elia Martell, raped and murdered, and you did nothing,” Ellaria spats out, causing you to hit the guards harder. “Oberyn Martell butchered, and you did nothing. You cloud your niece's head with that same ignorance.”

Your uncle flips over again and begins to pant.

“…You’re not a Dornishman. You’re not our prince.” Ellaria finishes spitting out.

“My son Trystane,” your uncle mutters.

Ellaria turns around and scoffs. “Your son is weak just like you. And weak men will never rule Dorne again,” she says spitefully. And finally the guards let you free so you quickly rush over to your uncle and fall down on your knees next to him.

“Uncle,” you cry and cradle him in your arms. “I’m here. I’m here. I will help.”

Your uncle groans, and slowly pulls his bloody hand away from his wound to cup your cheek. “My sweet y/n, you have the power to change the world, do not let vengeance cloud your judgment.”

You sob and shake your head. “I won’t, I swear to you,” you whisper, knowing deep in your heart that there was no saving him anymore.

He lets out labored breath and offers you a wobbly smile. “You have your mothers smile, you know that?” He whispers. “Smile for me, one last time, will you?”

A sob escapes your lips, but you muster a wobbly smile before he takes his last breath and drops his hand from your cheek.

“No,” you mutter as tears stream down your face, and your heart feels as if someone had just stabbed it. “No, no, no!”

“It was for your own good,” you hear Ellaria say from behind you. “Now you can come out of your uncle's shadow. You can finally fulfill your destiny and take back what is yours!”

You swipe your hands over your uncle's eyes to close them, and then slowly put him down.

“Now you can stop living in fear,” she continues.

You let out a shaky breath and drop your head, choosing to ignore her, choosing not to act out on your desire to stab her through the heart.

“Y/N,” she mutters and grabs your shoulder. “Now…” she trails off as the sound of flapping wings sounds from the sky only seconds before Eraxis reveals herself and lands down on the ground, only barely managing to fit her body in the courtyard.

You keep staring at the ground regardless and only hear her growl at Ellaria as she stands stiffly behind you.

“Sister!” Tyene cries out, but doesn’t move.

Eraxis breath slowly unfurls out of her nose, blowing back Ellaria’s dress.

“I watched my own mother die,” you whisper in a quivering voice. “Every night in my dreams. Of course I didn’t know what it meant then, I was only four,” you feign a laugh. “And well it was only fragments of her death, pieces I couldn’t place together. Not until years later. And now it lives over and over in my mind.” You stand up from the ground and let out a shaky breath.

“Do you want to know how that feels, losing a mother?” You ask Tyene, and turn, seeing Eraxis keep her eyes pierced on Ellaria.

“Please,” Tyene pleads to you.

“Do not hate your sisters,” Ellaria interjects, making your eyes snap to her. “They had no fault in it. It was all my doing.”

You swallow thickly and slowly begin to walk around her. “Yes,” you say. “I figured as much. Only you are capable enough to fill their heads with poison.” As you reach Eraxis side you pierce your glare on Ellaria as well, mirroring your dragon's same burning glare.

Ellaria scoffs and lifts her head with confidence. “Tell me what you would have done if I hadn’t killed your uncle?” She spats. “He was a plague. You would have kept hiding, kept dying your hair pretending you’re someone you're not, you would have kept hiding your dragon. You would have kept living in ignorance here. It’s time to wake up y/n!”

Perhaps she’s right. Perhaps you have lived your entire life in fear. But she still killed him. And you still couldn’t avoid it.

“I am only sparing your life because of Tyene,” you change the subject, and Eraxis begins to lose her scowl and begins to whimper and lean her head against you. “Betray me again and I will burn you alive.”

Eraxis pulls her snout out the deck and then lifts her head as you walk over to begin mounting her.

Once you’re on your saddle you grab your handles, and Eraxis flies off.

——

*NOW*

“Lower,” you tell Rhaenar and walk over to push his arms down a bit lower. “Pull your arms down.”

The boy sighs. “Uncle Oberyn said this way,” he tries to argue.

You nod and move back. “Yes, I understand, but there are many fighting styles, you have come close to mastering his way, now you must use different tactics,” you advise him and slide your foot back to once again stand in your fighting stance. “If you want to become a great warrior you must know much more.”

Rhaenar sighs and mirrors your stance. He then looks at your blade and lunges, but you quickly change your stance and swipe off his feet.

“That’s no—” Rhaenar cuts himself off and instead pushes himself to his feet.

You drop your head and laugh softly to yourself.

“You did better,” Daenerys tries to assure him as she watches him train—out of simple curiosity she said. “Less complaining this time.”

You chuckle before you turn around and watch the boy scratch the back of his head whilst he walks to grab a spear off the rack.

“Perhaps the young prince could spar with me soon,” Greyworm offers from the Queens side, as he too was curious to watch your morning training session.

You glance at the soldier and then at your son. “How does that sound, Rhaenar, hm? Maybe Greyworm will be a much kinder teacher than I am.”

Rhaenar turns with his spear in hand and offers the soldier a grin that goes from ear to ear. “Yes I would love it!” He exclaims happily.

Greyworm smiles faintly and nods. Daenerys smiles at the boy, and you part your lips to tell him something, but the door then opens and Tyrion and Qhono, the Dothraki Lieutenant, walks in behind him.

“My Queen, Princess,” Tyrion says, and gains the attention of everyone in the room. “Your guest ship has been spotted docking at shore.”

Daenerys nods in comprehension, letting The Hand turn to leave. Qhono albeit lingers and meets your gaze, making you smirk at him before you turn to face Rhaenar. Daenerys catches your interaction but doesn’t say anything about it.

“Go change out of your training clothes,” you tell the boy. “When you’re done go to the Throne room.”

Without argument Rhaenar puts away his sparring weapons and does as he’s told.

Before long you also go and change out of your training outfit, deciding to put on a long red dress that perhaps is too revealing for the chilly weather of Dragonstone. The long matching red cloak that attaches under the golden dragon scales on your shoulders provides some warmth, but then again you never much mind being too cold or too hot in something if it means looking good.

And sure, The King of the North wasn’t yours to impress, if it came to it it’s not you he’d marry, but you still do choose to show off your golden chained gloves that connects to your golden rings, and matches with the golden breast plates that was elegantly carved to go over the dress. You still didn’t choose to cover your exposed chest, or a part of your sides, or your arms. Because the truth is, if it were a choice to choose between armor and dresses, you’d choose the expensive and most beautiful dresses, even for dragon riding.

And well there is maybe Qhono that you are trying to impress.

“Come,” you call Rhaenar over once you walk in the Throne room.

Rhaenar sighs and lets you walk to where he was standing already.

“Your pin is all crooked,” you let him know and unpin the dragon pin to correct it. “There. Better. Handsome.” You pat his shoulder.

Rhaenar rolls his eyes out of embarrassment, making you laugh softly before you fix his hair.

“Mother,” he whispers sharply and pulls back to then glance back at the Queen.

Daenerys catches his embarrassed glance and shoots him a teasing smile.

“Fine,” you scoff lightheartedly. “I’ll go.” You then go and stand in your spot to wait patiently.

Once those doors open, the first one to walk in is Qhono, Tyrion, and Daenerys most trusted advisor Missendei of Naath follow, but you watch Qhono, as he watches you while he walks past you. You don’t notice the King of The North right away, not even when Missendei says all of Daenerys titles, you instead then look at your rings when Qhono is out of sight until you hear your name.

“…and the Princess Y/N Targaryen Martell, Princess of Dorne, daughter of late Prince Rhaegar Targaryen.”

You finally blink and look up, finally taking in the sight of the King of the North, and noticing that his eyes are already on you. They were on you for most the time he’s been in here but you didn’t notice, not until now.

Until now you see that he isn’t as tall as you imagined Northern men to be, he isn’t as musclary built, or as hairy. He’s quite small, more lean. His hair is dark, as dark as perhaps a moonless night. His eyes aren’t rough, they’re soft and a very pretty dark brown you can get lost in. He has soft features, scars on his face that he wears more than well.

The King of the North is handsome and breath-catching. Much to your surprise.

“And Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, son of the princess.” Missendei finishes introducing everyone that she needed to, leaving a very long silence as the King of the North looks at his advisor.

“This is Jon Snow,” the advisor reveals, letting said man glance at the Queen. “He’s King in the North.”

You smile at the introduction and once again catch the softened gaze of Jon Snow, the King of the North. His gaze lingers on yours, as your eyes linger on him. Neither of you dare to look away, it seems in a way you’re both too mesmerized. For that brief moment until Daenerys spoke up all that existed was just the two of you.

It was such a…weird and new feeling. One you never want to lose.

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untilmynextstory · 3 months

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Elia Week 2024 Day 3: Elia + Her Nieces/Nephews, Princess ("Queen") x Knight I took a bit of liberties with this prompt. AO3

Today should be a joyous day for her family - the Realm. Yet Elia wanted to scream and cry. She wanted further away from the Red Keep - King’s Landing. She wished she would have married Baelor Hightower, and this day may have never come to fruition. Maybe everything that had happened in the past 20 years wouldn’t have happened.

All she could do was watch in grief and mourn the life her nephew would never get to live as his uncle placed a white cloak around his shoulders.

Elias Martell was born five years after the Battle of the Trident.

His birth was sudden and took everyone by surprise. It was the first birth Elia had witnessed of her brothers' children.

Elia tried not to have favorites. She loved her children, nieces, and nephews equally. However, Elias was dear to her heart. She liked to think it was because he was her namesake.

King’s Landing was a city that had always felt isolated, even before the Tourney of Harrenhal, the disappearance of Rhaegar, and the death of Aerys.

If Elia had felt out of place as a Dornish Princess, being a Dornish Queen paled in comparison, primarily when she had been forced to inherit a crumbling dynasty.

She knew she would never be accepted at court because she was Dornish. No matter what good she tried to do for the city, realm, and her children; it wasn’t enough to wash away the rumors and pity her husband had cloaked her in from his actions.

No one would forget how Rhaegar had caused half of the realm to be widows and orphans, especially not when there was a live reminder living in court.

However, she watched as most of the nobles conveniently forgot their King's actions if it made them closer to that wretched throne.

Her brown eyes watched in disinterest as her husband worked the floor. She knew later that she would have to hear him complain about the politicking he still had to do as King. There had been a time she had enjoyed the complaints, but now it seemed she had to suffer for her husband as he held on to a relic of their fractured past.

And she knew they were now having such a celebration because of who the new Kingsguard was. Yet, she found nothing joyous about her nephew taking these vows.

She didn’t care he would be protecting her son - the future king - nor that he had been taught under the guidance of his father and uncles.

She wanted anyone with a drop of Martell or Dornish blood to be far away from a place like King’s Landing. But ambition had cursed her blood.

She had been surprised when Oberyn and Cersei had one child. The second one she felt was more for the duty of always having a spare for the heir. However, in the third pregnancy, she knew it was a decision between Oberyn and Cersei. She had been shocked to see the two seemed to get along for the most part. Yet, a part of her wondered if this was also a way for her brother not to let her husband get one over on him.

She knew she and Cersei would never be more than cordial, but for her brother, who had no desire to be married, she was glad to see him in a stable marriage. It is stable enough for people with such stubborn personalities.

Elias was born during her first visit to Dorne. She hadn’t been able to visit her homeland since the Rebellion. Finally, after five years, she was trusted to sink her feet into the white sand covering her home's coastline since Rhaegar had become King.

Although her youngest nephew was so small, he had tiny, powerful lungs, and his birth made her long for another one of her own.

But most of all, she remembered his wide doe eyes looking up at her, and she swore he smiled at her.

The only place that ever seemed to provide some sort of peace in King’s Landing was the godswood. Somehow, it remained untouched by the plots and webs of deceit that curled around the throne.

It was where her nephew had found her. He wasn’t in his armor yet. He was clad in Dorne's traditional wardrobe. Tomorrow, his duties would truly begin. Gone were oranges, yellows, reds. Soon, it would all be white with the hope his cloak would never stain red.

“Aunt!”

“Nephew,” she greeted. “Or should I say Ser Elias, now?”

His golden eyes were lit with jubilation. She would assume he had been in his cups, but she knew her nephew didn’t like to indulge in drinks. However, as his father, they carried a carefree demeanor. Despite their charismatic characteristics, one would never estimate a viper of Dorne.

“I’ll always be your nephew, Aunt.” His smile was wide and genuine. When he smiled, she could see Aegon in there. Aegon had most if not all of his father’s features, yet sometimes an expression, his smile, and his demeanor were that of the Martell blood. She had Rhaenys in her image, and her husband had Aegon.

“Are you sure you want this?” She knew Cersei and Jaime were proud of Elias wanting to join the Kingsguard. Oberyn was proud of his son’s accomplishment, but she knew he held the same feelings towards King’s Landing that she had.

“You know there isn’t much out there for being a 3rd son.” Her nephew replied as he walked closer to the oak that was a crude imitation of a heart tree.

“Still, these vows are for life; why would you want to be chained to a King…”

“Saying Aegon won’t make a fine King?”

She glared at her nephew, but it softened as she saw his teasing smile. She believed half of why he joined the Kingsguard was to remind her husband of how Dorne viewed him.

“Aegon’s reign will only be peaceful because of you,” Elias added softly. “The only thing he seems to have inherited from his father is that damned silver hair and purple eyes.”

Elia chose to ignore the distaste Elias had expressed for her husband. “You could have a seat at his council versus this.” Elias could excel as Master of Coin. He would still be allowed more freedom to move around the realm.

Her nephew gave her a sad smile. “Maybe, but I could be dismissed at any time on a council. I want you to be happy for me, Aunt, for I want this.”

Elia wanted to be happy. She did. Most would be proud and boast of an accomplishment like this. “Why do you want this?”

The wind displaced the leaves around them. Elias sighed and knocked his knuckles against the tree.

Her nephew's voice was cold. He sounded like her brother when he could contain the poison of anger and rage within him. “He left her with three Kingsguard, and you only had my uncle.”

Elia sighed. It always went back to that.

The birth of her nephew made Elia yearn a new babe of her own. As much as she cared for Daenerys as her own, and even for her own bruised pride and worth, the little Jon, they served as constant reminders that she couldn’t do her one duty in giving her husband more heirs.

It was why her husband's eyes had wandered to the Winter Rose and the realm paid for it in blood.

She wondered if what the Maester said was true.

Now, she had time to regain her strength, and her body had time to recover from birth. Yet, any desire waned at the thought of sharing a bed with her husband.

Besides, she didn’t want to give Rhaegar any hope that she held any fondness for him outside of him being the man who had the privilege to get her with two marvelous children.

When she arrived at King’s Landing, she hoped some bitterness had subsided. Holding on to so much anger and resentment was exhausting most days. It was a bitter drink she couldn’t keep drinking. Yet, when Rhaegar greeted her with his trusted shield, Arthur Dayne, at his side, she had looked for little Jon.

But she remembered how downtrodden Jon had been when she had been preparing to leave with Rhaenys and Aegon. She knew Doran and Oberyn had no ill-will with the small child, only the father. Yet, she didn’t want to flare some of her Dornishmen’s short tempers.

Rhaegar was attentive to Rhaenys. He was already grooming their son for the throne. Jon only got scraps of his affections. She could never tell if it was because of regret, the love or lack of love he held for the boy’s mother, or the fact he wasn’t the prophesied Visenya. Jon was the reminder of his hubris.

It reminded her that her husband could be cruel, like his father.

“My dear nephew,” she cupped her nephew’s cheek. As a young girl, she fantasized about a robust and valiant knight becoming her protector. It took her a while, but the vows of knights didn’t change anything regarding a man, and they were men like the rest of them. The vows were only a shield of their cruelty.

How could she tell her nephew that as soon as she married Rhaegar, she had lost any sort of protection that Dorne could and had provided?

When Rhaegar’s seed had quickened, she perpetually flirted with the Stranger. Having a knight in fancy armor and a quick hand with steel didn’t change the fact.

It wasn’t a shield she needed from fists and words.

No man could shield her from the wounds of her heart.

#elia week 2024 #elia martell #elia martell fic #asoiaf #asoiaf fic

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misguidedasgardian · 2 years

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The White Dragon (30)

30. All roads

MASTERLIST

Summary: All roads lead to Harrenhal

Pairings: main Harwin Strong x Fem!Targaryen reader

Warnings: cursing, medieval and A song of ice and Fire AU customs, injury, burns, dragon fire, death, violence, armies, death, war and all that comes with it. Character death (technically a character?)

Might miss some warnings but you know what this is about :)

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 4k

Notes: One of the most awaited (even for me) chapters, LET'S ROCK AND ROLL PEOPLE LET'S DO THISSSS

Soft snow fell over Winterfell, for the Strong children, their favorite new thing, catching snowflakes with their tongues and being the first one to walk over a new trail of that sugary looking powder.

Sarra, who had been accompanying them and taking care of them, had an embroidery lesson, so she sent one of her ladies with the children as they played in the Godswood, the safest place in all of Winterfell.

The kids were in the middle of a snow war, running and giggling all around the trees. The Lady had surrendered already, sitting by the entrance to the Goodswood, waiting patiently as she read.

The kids ran, and played, throwing snowballs and giggling. Saera, two years older, took the lead, running faster than her baby brother. She looked back to see if he was following her, so she didn’t pay attention to where she was going, until she crashed into something… or someone.

When Saera looked up with those big purple eyes of hers, she met with only one in turn. Aemond was looking down at her with severity.

“Uncle Aemond?”, she asked, “what are you doing here?”, she smiled at him, with a toothless smile, and her bright eyes, “do you want to play with us?”, she asked.

But Aemond didn’t answer, he just looked at the little girl with a dead expression in his eye, and a thin line as his lips

“Uncle?”

Aemond woke up panting, his heart beating out of his chest. Why did he dream about his nephews? how? why? it felt so real… he had never been in the north, but somehow he knew perfectly well where he was.

His baby nephews…

“Where are Saera and Vaegor?”, Aemond asked hours later, as a servant was fixing his armor. Larys shook his head. He had the Strong summoned that morning, as he was preparing himself to march on Harrenhal

“They are not in Harrenhal”, he said with that unsettling smile

“They could be in Dragonstone”, he whispered

“I believe my sister by law took measures to protect them”, he said, “birds told me they saw the children riding north with the twins…”, Aemond’s breath got caught in his throat. “May I ask why do you care about their whereabouts?”, he asked. But Aemond didn’t answer. The truth was that he didn’t truly wanted to murder his baby nephews, they were innocent, if things went terribly wrong in Harrenhal, he wouldn’t want them to be left alone, at the end of the day, they just might be all he had left of his extended family.

Aemma’s baby brother and sister

“Are you sure you want to march on Harrenhal?”, asked Larys. Aemond looked at him in the corner of his eye

“I am”, he said firmly, “Do you care about what happens there?”

“No”, he said with that same smile. Great, because now, he didn’t care either.

The Baratheon army had marched before him, he was going to take only a few hours on Vhagar

The Strongs were going to surrender or he was going to slay their dragons and burn their people.

This had to end.

“The Royal and the Baratheon army are marching upon us”, said Maekar out loud, lords from the Riverlands all around him, including Cregan, who had arrived with half his army. The winter wolves, and his brother, where being held in any small town they passed

The greens haven't managed to persuade the great houses of the Riverlands, but the small towns were a different matter, they had met resistance at every turn… not enough to dwindle their forces, but enough to delay them… Rhaegar didn’t want and shouldn’t burn all the small towns of the Riverlands, so their march, was being heavily delayed

So Maekar in Aerion was going to face Aemond in Vhagar alone, he didn’t want to send word to Rhaegar either, he wanted to spare his brother

The Tullys did manage to arrive, so the forces were almost aligned if not for Vhagar.

“We are going to meet them here”, he pointed a point in the King’s Road, a few miles towards King’s Landing, “when they are marching through this point we will be able to wait for them from the highground, and charge them from there, take them by surprise, push them against the God’s eye”

“Agree, we will take the fight off of Harrenhal”, said Cregan

“What about the Dragon?”, asked another

“I will face Vhagar”, he said firmly, “as you, I will hope to fly higher than him, and faster, the surprise factor is essential”, he said, he sensed his father by his side tense, he had been begging him for days to reconsider, he had even send word to Dragonstone for backup from Daemon or whoever, Dragonstone had no answered. And they stood alone against the largest dragon in the world

After the meeting, Maekar had to contain himself not to run towards the room, he entered after knocking gently, and he found Helaena there, knitting while her children plated safely

“I still think you should ride North”, he said gently, walking towards her and kneeling by her side, she smiled gently at him caressing his cheek, “with the children, Cregan already said you could go to Winterfell, and my siblings are there”

“I need to be here” she said gently, “trust me”. And Maekar did, grabbing her hand gently and placing swift kisses all over her palm and the back of her hand

“I’m sorry for everything”, he whispered, “I should have taken you with my sister as soon as the war broke out”

“This what was meant to happen”, she whispered with a smile, “don’t worry”, she looked so calm, so serene, that Maekar didn’t know if to think that she truly know everything was going to be alright, or if she had finally lost her mind

Either way, the victor of this gruesome battle were not going to hurt her, if it was Aemond, he would spare her, if they were the ones, he would finally love her freely, marry her even

But war was so cruel, and she was just a girl. a girl with children of her own.

“They are coming”, he said simply, “We are marching to meet them in the field now”. Helaena looked at him booth her big eyes, she leaned in and kissed him in his head

“The spools of green and the spools of black will make spools of red”, she whispered

“I love you”, he whispered, frowning, analyzing her words, the blacks, the greens, will they make red? blood red? Will they all be doomed?

“I love you too”, she whispered against his forehead

“If I shall perish in the battlefield today, I will find you in the next life, so we could spend it together as the Gods owes us”, she simply nodded

“I will have you in this life”, she whispered. For a second he did want to take her and leave, together, with the children. He had loved her in secret for many years, their love only consummated after she bore her youngest son Maelor. She loved him back, and he was grateful, even if he had her for barely a day. He would have rather die today, than having a lifetime without her

“I will try”, he promised, kissing her one last time, and with that terrible forecast, he abandoned the room not before he greeted the children as well, who hugged him tightly. Helaena had a dragon, but she couldn’t fight, he would die before he put her in harm’s way… Dreamfyre though… he shook his head

He had his home, his love, his family to fight for, he will fight until his last breath.

He exited the White hall, to meet all captain and leaders of the army, they were arming themselves, in front of him, all over the valley in front of his home, they were thousand of campaign tents, the coat of arms of great houses of the North and the riverlands flew freely, the day was grim, gray, it was not going to rain but the cloud closed the sky over you

House Strong’s banner fluttered alongside his siblings’ sigil, the one Aemma had created one day, and Rhaegar and himself had taken as his own. That symbolized them, the Strong Targaryens, it brought him comfort.

He felt the hand of his father on his shoulder

“I love you son”, he whispered, and Maekar’s heart broke because it sounded like a goodbye

“I love you too father”, they shared a big hug as they pat each other's back

“Please, if it gets too dangerous, please, retreat”, he whispered, “there is no shame in surrendering… it means you get to live to fight another day”, he said reassuringly

“I’m afraid that is not our way, father”, he whispered. His father, Harwin, released him, and Maekar faced Cregan

“I believe your mother would be against this”, he said firmly, “but then she would be very proud”, he said with a shy smile

“I believe so too”, he muttered, then his face got all serious, “I will distract Vhagar as you face the army, I’m afraid that is all I can do, we will trust your battle skills”, he said

“And that will be enough”, he said firmly, “Only distracting the largest dragon in the world will be a feat that will put your name in all the songs to be sung and the stories to be told”, he said firmly.

And after exchanging significant looks and pleading eyes from his father, he called in his dragon Aerion

He had grown, as Karnax did, they were as big as Meleys, with 19 years after they hatched. They have outgrown Syrax, and almost as Caraxes, their size rushed by years in the wild as he would have them, never resting in the pit, but flying freely and hunting for his own survival.

He caressed his snout gently

“You know what we are about to do…”, he said firmly, “It was an honor being your rider”, he greeted. Aerion growled loudly, cheering the troops who clapped and cheered back. Maekar climbed onto his dragon’s back, placing the straps tightly against his thighs

“Sôbês Aerion!”, and the dragon took flight easily

Under him, the troops began to march towards the accorded place, they were going to set a trap for the enemy army, as Maekar was going to distract Vhagar and prevent him from burning their own army.

He was so nervous his body stiffened atop his saddle, he cursed and called himself weak. He was afraid… was he weak?

No, he decided, he was not going to fly away and cower, no, he was frightened, but he was going to fight until his last breath. That was being brave, he thought with a self calming smile

As philosophers would say, “bravery can only appear in the presence of fear”

He would say that his uncle wouldn’t hurt him, that they were friends, but he also killed his mother, so who knows what he was truly capable of? He expected no amnesty, no kindness, he expected fire and blood. And that is what his uncle was going to get in return

Fire and blood

The war, battles itself were sickening, but perhaps what was worse were the hours before the battle itself. Was he insane? probably, but the battle was imminent and he wanted it to start at once, he was tired of waiting, it was driving him insane. Live or die, it was already fated, but he wanted it to start at once.

Lucky… or not… the army reached the desired point, a valley that ended in the lake named God’s eye, in the middle of the valley the King’s road passed, so the army was certain to take this road. And they will be waiting for them here

Harwin on one side of the army, commanded everyone to spread out, the Road was narrow, so the Green forces were likely to spread in a thin line, and if they were all spread, they were not going to be burned as easily, he thought bitterly. On the other side, Cregan was doing the same.

Scouts came galloping to meet the right flank of the army, where Harwin stood

“They are hours away Ser Harwin”, he muttered, “they are led by Ser Criston Cole, and Lord Borros Baratheon himself”, he said hurriedly, “we have not seen the dragon”

“Go to Cregan Stark and repeat the tale”, he said, and the rider did gallop away.

Harwin knew better than to be happy about the news, dragons were quick and their Queen could appear at any moment. As proof of it, he looked into the skies and found no sign of his own son

Aemond flew atop Vhagar, above the King’s Road up North. His body shakes with anticipation of the battle to come. He does not know what he faces… will Daemon be there? He hoped so, he knew, according to scouts and spies, that Maekar was surely on Harrenhal, and Rhaegar was not able to meet him.

Only his oldest nephew then…

Days ago he would have landed Vhagar on the ground, wait for his nephew to come to him and strike a deal, a treaty, isolating them from the blacks, leaving Harrenhal alone, but his heart was broken and his mind was clouded with loss and grief

He cared no longer for what ensued, the loves of his life were gone.

His Aemma, his Helaena, and his nephews, the representation in flesh and bone of innocence and goodness.

Lost in his thoughts he didn’t realize how much time had passed. Soon, Aemond saw the army marching underneath him, and beyond, the God’s eye, it was truly a beautiful sight to be sure, but then, he saw a silver line of…

He couldn’t alert the army, not from up there

The Northerner and the Riverland army descended upon the Green forces, their impulse helped by the short hill, they roared ferociously as they charged at them, succeeding in taking them by surprise.

The collision was brutal, they knocked down the first improvised line of defense, killing them almost instantly and then went on to charge against the second line.

Aemond descended upon the enemy army, or at least he intended to, but was attacked on his own, by Aerion

He could only hear a distant Dracarys!, over the growling of the blue beast, and a fire blinded Vhagar only for a second, making her growl. A horrible sense of already living this scenario washed over him, and Vhagar twisted in the sky, looking for the dragon that harmed her. But Aerion was fast, losing himself already in the clouds above them

Vhagar had now a burn on her snout, and she was growling furiously as she ascended even more to look for the one that harmed her

“MAEKAR!”, he screamed, “Bend the knee! nephew!”, he said at the top of his lungs, searching for him amongst the clouds, “I wish not for your death, on the contrary!”

“Where is my sister?”, he heard, and he swallowed, hard

“Let’s talk, nephew!”, he encouraged, Vhagar wanted the contrary, wining underneath him

And then he saw Aerion flying above him. He was still half his size, but it was still impressive, Aerion was much bigger than dragons twice his age. He disappeared again, he was toying with Aemond as he toyed with Jacaerys that fatidic day

Maekar did wanted to talk to him, but for Vhagar it was already too late, she wanted the dragon that dare to breathe fire against her Queen

Soon she had him in her sight and it was already too late, she started the chase, and even if Aerion was faster, he couldn't hide anymore.

“Fuck fuck fuck”, Maekar cursed against his breath, making his dragon fly downwards, he hoped that Vhagar will fall faster than him against the ground, that was approaching him at alarming speed. As Vhagar was about to bite into his dragon’s tail, he averted it, flying upwards again.

They now flied so close to the ground that it was almost dangerous, and Vhagar was soon closing in on him again

On the ground, the armies fought fiercely, the Greens, with the high number, had recuperated and charged against their enemy with ferocity. “Ours is the fury” was the Baratheon motto and they took it to earth

And then.

A loud roar made the waters of the God’s eye shake like it was an earthquake, even the floor seemed to shake. Harwin, as he was cutting down Barattheon soldiers stopped, as did everybody, looking up in the skies, Vhagar was chasing Aerion but even those dragons seemed to be rattled by the warning of a even more fearsome beast

It was not Vhagar

It was not Aerion…

The white demon opened the skies with her bast wings, roaring as loudly as thunder

Harwin could not believe was he was seeing

No, it couldn’t be, he has probably been struck down and he was dead, his wife had come to collect him

Aemond looked back, and above him, and he also questioned his sanity

No it can not be

Vhaelar, the white demon descended upon him as an eagle would swarm in to catch his prey, he could not stop it, the huge claws on her legs clinged onto Vhagar’s right wing, and her huge jaws closed into his left wing

Vhagar whined under him, a shriek, a sound so abnormal with pain and imminent death that it shook the armor of every soldier in the battle, she could no longer keep itself in the air, and for better or worse, the ground was so close the fall was lesser than the Red Keep height…

The adrenalin in his body prevented him of feeling how he collided atop his beast on the hard floor, Vhagar fell over the army’s carts, thousand of pieces of wood and spears burried themselves on her old skin

Vhaelar released Vhagar before she collided, and kept herself flying above the agonizing dragon. You breathed heavily, praying your brother did survive it, you dragon as the white dragon growled victoriously. You saw your son, Maekar, flying over you

Maekar had never been so happy, even there in the midst of battle, he screamed in happiness. but the battle was not over yet. He descended upon the army, and set fire to their rearguard, one time he flew above them, unknown to him at the time, Criston Cole burn to death under Aerion’s flames… and the Green army stopped fighting. They surrendered right there

They all saw Vhagar fall, they all saw the return of the White Dragon, the princess who had gone back from the dead

So they dropped their swords as the princess climbed down from her dragon, only a few yards away from the already warmer heat of battle.

Maekar descended quickly, and you were the one who reached for him, hugging him tightly against you

“My son”, you cried, tears of pure relief falling down your cheeks, “my boy, are you harmed?”, you asked, releasing him and cradling his face with your hands

“No mama”, he cried of pure happiness, “you are alive!”

“I am alive!”

You turned towards Vhagar, as she drew her last breath, the Queen of dragons had perished.

Aemond released himself, impressively unharmed, and he, despite his trembling legs, was able to descend to the ground, amidst smoke and broken wood

His hand caressed Vhagar as he walked, one last time, until he could surround her, seeing over the small hill, you.

You were going to walk towards him, as he was going to walk towards you, his mind confused, he thought he was hallucinating

He had not killed you, but when you realize your daughter was dead you will gladly go to kill him. So Aemond walked hastily towards you, so you unsheathed your Valyrian steel sword to face him, Aemond, unsurprisingly, did the same.

“I don’t know if my mind's playing tricks on me!”, he said, about to cry

“I am not a illusion but a reality”, you said back, preparing to fight him

“no!”, said Maekar, placing himself between you. “Enough! I just got you back, I’m not going to lose you again mother”, he whispered, “Uncle, enough”

“Sister”, he said, his hold on his sword trembling, “I thought I…”

“Vhaelar saved us”, you told him, “but we were stranded in Tarth for weeks”, you said firmly, as you stopped being on guard, lowering your sword

“I am so glad”, he responded, dropping his sword to the floor in front of him. He, Aemond Targaryen, was dragonless once again, but in turn, he was not a Kinslayer, but he also had lost…

His thoughts were interrupted by another dragon that roared in the sky, and as Harwin and Cregan were taking Lord Borros’ surrender, Dreamfyre flew above them and towards the group

Aemond could not believe it, and you couldn't neither, your body tensing as you saw the dragon who was supposed to be allied to the greens, but your son squeezed your hands reassuringly

“It’s Helaena mother, she was with us in Whitehall”, he said

“What?” Aemond asked, “why is Helaena here? she was dead!”

“Dead?”, asked Maekar

Helaena landed right next to you all

“Brother enough!”, demanded Helaena, from atop her dragon, Aemond stopped his movements, “It’s enough!”, she repeated, her voice stronger as she ever sounded, she descended Dreamfyre, as you met your half-sibling, alongside Maekar, you sheathe your sword

The silence was deafening, as you four met

“Sister, you were dead”, he muttered, as he was seeing yet another apparition, “Grandfather told me… I saw you…”, she shook her head, and Aemond went in and hugged her tightly against his chest, “they told me an assassin came in the night and took you”, he cried. He was so relieved but still, his mind was in the brink of collapse

“Daemon send assassins”, Maekar told you, and you looked at him widely, “he send assassins to kill Jaehaerys”, he told you with a broken voice

This was sick.

Was your uncle so depraved? that he would send an assassin to murder an innocent child?

Aemond released Helaena, caressing her hair, “they told me she and the children died”, he explained, his gaze not separating from his sister, “they told Aemma was slain as well”, he whispered, “are the children alright?”

“They are, and Aemma is alive and well”, she said hastily, “our grandsire told you that to manipulate you”, she said firmly

“Where is she? Where is my daughter? Is she alright?”, you asked with urgency

“She is riding East”, she said, “Alongside Ser Steffon, I told her about the battle plans and she wants to intercept the Lannister Fleet before the soldiers reach Highgarden”

“She will find herself caught between the Lannisters and the Hightower army”, Aemond muttered, “she will face two armies, a fleet and Daeron and Tessarion”

“How did she escape the Red Keep?”, you asked, looking at everyone

“That is a long story”, whispered Helaena with a shy smile, “I will tell it to you”

“But we must reach Aemma”, you murmured then, “she cannot face them alone”

“I have to go”, said Aemond, and you looked at him, “to stop the armies”

“So you can take her prisoner again?”, you asked

“No!”, he answered, placing Helaena behind him, “this is over!”, he said firmly, “I don’t wish to serve my sick brother, not my Grandfather, the true manipulator and originator of this madness, he made me believe all the people I loved were dead, so he could use me to kill the remaining family I held dear to my heart, my allegiance to that monster is over”, he sentenced

“Well I don’t want to serve Rhaenyra, or her child-murdering husband either”, you said in turn, and you all exchanged looks

“So we are done serving Kings and Queens we don’t even believe in?” asked Aemond, “what do we do next?”

“My priority is my family”, you said, “my children, fuck the rest of them”

“Fuck him” whispered Aemond, “We made promises but never to one another, the true deserving parties in all of this”

“So I swear not to move against you brother, or you, my dear sister”

“Nor I shall move against you”, he said firmly, “If Aegon and Rhaenyra want to fight, they can do it against themselves, for themselves”, you nodded

Helaena then walked towards Maekar, and he embrace her and kissed her gently

“Well, that is new”, you whispered, and then Aemond and you exchanged looks

“I will set this straight, send the armies home, or take them prisoner, whichever”, you said, “I will go for my son Rhaegar, bring him home as well… and then the three of us could…”

“I will go and get my Aemma”, he said firmly

“And how do you plan on doing that?” you asked

“I don’t know”, he admitted, you both looked at Vhagar

“You will need a dragon”, you said, “another dragon, clean of our family’s blood”

“Agree”, he whispered

More notes: WE ARE BACK WITCHESSSSSS

I had that scene in my head, an unhinged Aemond, unpredictable and torn with grief, riding North to see his nephews… What does he want with them? uffff I had to include it even if it was a little inconclusive

Was it too rushed? was it? next chapter I will cover how reader reached Harrenhal... how she got out of the island, and the faceoff with Rhaenyra, I just wanted to show her appearing there first hehe, you know I'm a sucker for theatrics

@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 @ietss

#harwin strong x reader #ser harwin strong #harwin strong x targaryen reader #harwin strong #targaryen!reader #house targaryen #hbo house of the dragon #house of the dragon #targaryen!oc #misguidedhotd

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forestcat000 · 8 months

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Sooooo

This was a comment in response to me wanting an excuse to ramble about my Targaryen's survive AU so thank you @celerieth for this opportunity and thank you for the follow (:

Btw I am sorry to everyone who only follows me for aphmau content because I keep posting game of thrones stuff.

Warning, long post

So I've mentioned my AU and it's concept on my blogs before. The premise is basically all the Targaryen's survive the rebellion and kill the Baratheons, Starks, Arryns, and Tullys for their treason. Aerys remains king but I kinda stall his madness for the sake of story telling so Jaime does not kill him.

My fic starts at the same time as the Canon books except it basically only (so far) takes place in kingslanding. All the Targ kids (Aegon, Rhaenys, Daenerys, Viserys, Jon) get their own chapters, Rhaella and Elia, get them as well. Rhaegar is the only one so far without a chapter in progress.

The story mainly follows the more domestic drama and relationships between the characters so far, with everyone having to endure Aerys. But I do add in a lot of fluff for the Targ kids so it can be sweet.

Aegon is the picture perfect prince, smart, funny, kind, good looking but he has a few problems. Aegon has some pent up hatred towards Rhaegar for abandoning the family during the rebellion, this results in Aegon being more critical and distrustful of Rhaegar, viewing Rhaegar as mad for chasing a prophecy. This extra tension since Aegon is the child who Rhaegar views as the prince who was promised and thus pays extra unwanted attention to Aegon. Aegon is very close with his siblings, and mother, feeling extremely protective of them.

Rhaenys is an intelligent, witty, charming girl. Rhaenys shares Aegons feelings towards Rhaegar for the rebellion but she's much calmer and more lenient with Rhaegar, mainly because she doesn't talk to him often, he's distant and often in his head so neither cares enough to reach out. Rhaenys is loving towards her family and often tries to keep them in line, especially Daenerys. She has a slight rivalry with Daenerys but it's largely loving. She is the only one of her siblings in a relationship, she is secretly courting Willas Tyrell, heir to Highgarden.

Viserys is much nicer and calmer than in Canon since he never had to go through the trauma of being on the run and having his family die. Viserys is a loving older brother and uncle. He's a mama's boy, he tries his best to support his mother while she deals with the abuse at Aerys hand. He has a slightly odd relationship with Aerys. Aerys spared Viserys a lot of the abuse that the other family members suffered because Viserys is his favorite son, while he was saved from the physical and mental abuse he developed a guilt of sorts, feeling guilty that while his family is hurt he is safe. This guilt causes Viserys to be a bit protective and he tries to remove his family members from the area when Aerys get violent and loud.

Daenerys is reckless and chaotic but loving. She has a complicated relationship with her father. Aerys goes from doting on his daughter in every way to yelling and screaming at her at an instant, as a result Daenerys tends to avoid being around her father unless necessary. She's extremely close to Viserys with him being her safe person, kinda seeing him as a father or a caretaker more than a brother.

All the family members that have POVs are the main characters but Jon (Aemon in my rewrite) has the biggest one planned out. Jon is the last known member of the Stark family since he's Lyannas son. Jon is raised as something similar to a prisoner, being a symbol of the war and all the people the Targaryens demolished. Jon is antagonized by Aerys frequently to the point Jon loses sleep every night over the possibility of being murdered and having dreams of being burned alive by Aerys. He feels something similar to survivors guilt, believing he didn't deserve to live, and viewing his birth as the cause of the rebellion (will alaborate if needed)and as a result the cause of death of everyone who died in the rebellion, including all the Starks and his mother. Jon is extremely paranoid and fearful. Hes so paranoid that he went mute because he was scared of saying the wrong thing and being killed, his fear is intense that he can't talk if he tried, he created a mental block to stop him. he is rarely away from Aegon who he is close to, if Aegon is in a room Jon cannot go in he'll wait by the door for Aegon to come out. Jon is close with Rhaenys as well, often going to her for comfort.

That's base info, I know there's a lot, and that's just the stuff that I'm posting, I have pages of lore I'm waiting to implement.

If anyone is interested in any of this feel free to ask questions. Also thank you Celerieth.

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loksthegreat · 8 months

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The Fool of the white water and his most unlikely bride <3

“King Rhaegar I had fought the men of the north, and queen Elaena had stood by his side as was her duty as a wife, and when her husband and his dragon both where cold and death, and there bones lay buried below Dragonstone, the queen had made peace with the widow of lord stark and set out to appease the northmen. In 623 AC, the queens ships entered White harbor under the wary eyes of common folk and lords alike, the people had not yet forgotten the last time ships under Targaryen banners had been spotted at their shores, neither the brutal siege that would follow. A compensation was to be paid, and the price was princess Haleen I, the queens seventh daughter, a marriage alliance the mermen of the Harbour felt had been denied their house for many years too long. But the princess, though well behaved and set to do as duty demanded, could not find any love for the grandson of the old lord, young Ser Harrold, who would talk for hours of nothing but jousting, melees and sailing, not when the fool of the white water, his mad uncle, would write her love songs that drew the girl to tears and would call her his pale lady, upon hearing that the love story of Aegor and Aenna was her favorite. Ser Wylas had fought on the step stones with the Velaryons in the early years of queen Elaena’s reign, and had returned with an illness that kept him from sleep for days at a time, with no cure but great almonds of wine and ale, her worked in the docks and on the markets, he would build and repair ships or join the fishermen all day (and night) returning barefoot, with cuts on his hands and dressed in the torn clothes of a poorer man only to stoke up his drink or attend a feast (if his lord father screamed at him long enough), but none, especially not the princess, could deny that he was a poet and a bard at heart, sweet of voice, though only when singing, talented with the lute as well as with his words. Only a fourth night did the princess and the fool spend together, before Haleen had fallen in love so deeply she would beg her mother on her knees to marry them, for hours did that usually obedient and agreeable girl beg up and down that she had never met a man as kind, as gentle, as funny, as lovely, as considerate and observant, as sweet and attentive, and she swore she never would. Only when she threatened to run away with him, life their live as common people beyond the wall, or drown together in the white water all together, did the queen relent and grant her daughter her wish. Ser Wylas older brother raged and his son whined about the loss of a formidable match, but the elderly lord Manderly cared little for which man Haleen we’d, as long as he was of his blood and when a year later young Rickard Manderly was the first of twelve children to be born to the couple over the course of their marriage, it became certain that there was no use in complaining.” - ‘The Legacy of a Seahorse’ by Maester Oswyn

#asoiaf oc #hotd #asoiaf #digital art #asoiaf fanfic #asoiaf art #fanart #asoiaf fanart #elaena iv targaryen #asoif/got

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catofadifferentcolor · 11 months

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Terrible Fic Idea #75: Rhaegar Wins, but make it Le Morte d'Arthur

Having done two takes on what can roughly be called Lancelot-Guinevere AUs where things end more or less well for our heroes, I thought: why not go all out? why not have the affair be the downfall of the Targaryen Dynasty?

Or: What if Jon Snow, the infamous bastard son of King Rhaegar, had an affair with his aunt, Princess Daenerys?

Aka: The Duncan the Damned Fic

Just imagine it:

Everything follows canon until the Battle of the Trident, during which Prince Rhaegar slays Robert Baratheon in single combat, ending the rebellion. He leads his forces and those of the rebels who submit to him against his father in King's Landing - and is forced to kill the Mad King when he calls for the wildfire caches to be lit. Although everyone agrees he did the right thing, he's forever known as Rhaegar the Kinslayer and many whisper his line is cursed.

Ned Stark is severely injured trying to rescue Robert at the Trident and as such is unable to retrieve Lyanna from the Tower of Joy. Rhaegar sends Prince Lewyn instead...

...who returns with his three brothers-in-arms, a baby boy, and the bones of the King's paramour. It's hard to say which of the latter the King is most angry about. In the end he orders a great mausoleum built over the Dragonpit to house Lyanna's bones and leaves the raising of the bastard to his mother.

Dowager Queen Rhaella is thrilled to have another child to raise, regardless of how the babe came about. (She's less thrilled her son is so disinterested in the boy that it falls to her to name the child over half-a-year after his birth; she calls him Duncan, after her favorite uncle.) She raises Dany and Duncan together until Dany is old enough to be brought to court... and Duncan stays in more or less exile with his grandmother in the shadow of Summerhall as builders work to return he castle to its former glory.

Duncan is raised to knighthood by Oswell Whent, Rhaella's protector and lover during her self-imposed exile. While he does the job as well any could hope, he teaches young Duncan that getting the job done is more important than how you do it - in short, that gallantry is all well and good, but it's better to be dishonorable and alive than dead with a song.

And so the bastard prince who visits at the Red Keep for the first time in 298 has more in line with The Rogue Prince than any of his Stark forbearers. He's dashing, daring, and dangerous - the exact opposite of his half-brother Aegon, who is gallant and chivalrous and brave, but decidedly lacking the bad boy aura.

Meanwhile, Rhaegar hasn't given up on his prophesy. Deciding that his sister Daenerys must be the third head of the dragon, he arranges for Aegon to wed both his sister Rhaenys and aunt Daenerys, which causes many a discontent murmur.

Having been spoon-fed prophesy since birth, Aegon goes willingly along with his father's plan, but Rhaenys is less eager to be one of a pair of sister-queens and Dany...

...well, Dany takes one look at her bastard nephew, so different from his brother, and fancies herself in love.

Duncan for his part is more than a little peeved that his goodie-two-shoes half-brother gets all their father's attention and two royal wives. He choses to pursue Dany as much to get one over on the family that ignored him as any lust he may feel.

Dany and Duncan carry on an affair that is as much passion as it is destruction. It is deeply unhealthy for everyone involved and hits every unhealthy relationship milestone, from Duncan flirting with Rhaenys to make Dany jealous to Dany poisoning herself to get Duncan's attention back and blaming her rivals.

This manages to go on for about five years without anyone too important finding out - though Rhaenys suspects and at least one member of the court attempted to blackmail Duncan over it before succumbing to an accident - when several things happen all at once:

Dany and Rhaenys announce they're finally pregnant within several weeks of each other. Rhaenys gives birth first, to a pair of stillborn abominations with wings. Dany gives birth a short time later to a child that has such Stark looks its impossible to deny his parentage.

An argument breaks out between Aegon, Rhaegar, and Duncan which quickly grows heated. At the end of it Rhaegar lies dead, with no one quite sure whether Aegon or Duncan had landed the fatal blow. The brothers point fingers at each other and order the other jailed for kingslaying.

Things very quickly break down into civil war as both brothers vie for the crown. Duncan manages to hold King's Landing, but Aegon has Dragonstone and superiority of numbers. Even so, Duncan is ruthless and cunning enough that he just might be able to pull off a victory-

-or would have, if Dany didn't start working at cross purposes to him, their relationship very quickly falling apart without the danger and excitement to hold them together. Dany ends up betraying King's Landing to Aegon's forces during a siege, fully expecting to be reinstated as Aegon's second queen after the war ends. Duncan is killed in the fighting and Dany is executed for treason and adultery. Their son, Daeron, is kept as a hostage until he's old enough to be sent to the Wall.

Aegon manages to hold onto the throne for the rest of his life, but he's faced with more outbreaks of rebellion as people finally rebel against House Targaryen, their wars, and the taxes they've leveed to pay for those wars. What's more, Rhaenys never manages to give birth to a living child (some claiming poison, others claiming inbreeding), so that his only heir is his bastard nephew - who quite simply vanishes from the record before his tenth birthday. (Many historians believe he was killed, but there is a strong King Under the Mountain mythology that grows up around him.)

House Targaryen eventually collapses - not with a bang, but a whimper - when Aegon dies in his mid-30s after choking on a fishbone. Rhaenys tries to hold the throne in her own right, but years of fruitless childbirths has wreaked her health and she's very quickly captured, imprisoned, and quietly killed. The Seven Kingdoms eventually devolve into seven separate kingdoms, not to be reunited for another five hundred years.

Bonuses include: 1) Something fatalistic running throughout the narrative, with Rhaegar planning his whole life for an apocalypse that doesn't come - and allowing everything his house built to come to ruin; 2) The full gambit of toxic relationships, including but not limited to: Rhaegar treating Aegon from a young age as a hero in waiting who can do no wrong, Rhaegar treating Duncan as irrelevant to the plot for not being born a girl, and Dany and Duncan's deeply unhealthy romance; and 3) There being a moment after Aegon captures King's Landing where it's possible for Duncan to escape with his son and live to fight another day and in that same moment realizing Dany betrayed him... and rather than choosing to escape, is killed trying to get back into the Red Keep to kill the mother of his child.

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt this bun, just link back if you do anything with it.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

#plot bunny #fic ideas #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #got #asoiaf #jon snow #jon snow is a targaryen #jon x daenerys #daenerys targeryan #rhaegar targaryen #rhaegar x lyanna #aegon son of elia #rhaenys daughter of elia #secret affair #secret relationship #unhealthy relationships

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agentrouka-blog · 2 years

Note

So according to Old Nan story of Night King, he was defeated by the King of Winter Brandon the Breaker. She also think that NK was Stark named Brandon and brother to the king of Winter. How come two brothers had same name? There is another Brandon Stark aka Bran the Builder who made the ice Wall. Did he knew about the Others?

I'd say there's reason to view any of Old Nan's tales as vague or metaphorical hints at the true story, as well as parallels to current events by the author. (Sort of like the story of the Winter Rose, which points to Lyanna and Rhaegar as well as to Baelish and Sansa.) They point us to themes or character constellations more than they do to solid facts.

The fact that so many Starks are named after the original Brandon hints at something that is general to all of House Stark.

Thousands and thousands of years ago, Brandon the Builder had raised Winterfell, and some said the Wall. Bran knew the story, but it had never been his favorite. Maybe one of the other Brandons had liked that story. Sometimes Nan would talk to him as if he were her Brandon, the baby she had nursed all those years ago, and sometimes she confused him with his uncle Brandon, who was killed by the Mad King before Bran was even born. She had lived so long, Mother had told him once, that all the Brandon Starks had become one person in her head. (AGOT, Bran IV)

Which also plays into this:

Their faces were stern and strong, and some of them had done terrible things, but they were Starks every one, and Bran knew all their tales. He had never feared the crypts; they were part of his home and who he was, and he had always known that one day he would lie here too. (ACOK, Bran VII)

Bran is the youngest in a long line of Brandons, and they all go back millenia (some soaked in cruelty and blood) to the mythical origin of House Stark, which is tied to Winterfell, the Wall and that ancient heart tree. And the ice threat.

There is a shrouded legacy that Bran will have to unravel in the name of all of them, and it contains every side of the conflict. An acceptance and a reckoning.

#bran stark #brandon stark #house stark #old nan #night king #asoiaf history #kings of winter

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dragonbanexxi · 1 year

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Soul of Bronze; Blood of Fire

Helaena Targaryen x OC Targaryen Royce

***!!!Not Canon Compliant!!!***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Heir of Runestone would often joke that he should be referred to as Rhaegar Stone. Seeing as his father (Prince Daemon Targaryen) had no want for him and his mother (Lady Rhea Royce) was long dead. All jokes end when he and Ser Gerold Royce are summoned to the capitol by none other than King Viserys the First of his Name. The King wanting nothing more than to bring his estranged nephew into the fold, Viserys offers Rhaegar his so called Targaryen Right. A betrothal to the Princess Helaena and the chance to claim a dragon. Will Rhaegar be able to claim such a beast? Even if his valyrian skills were lacking? Prince Aemond seems to think so. Though he’s mostly is just thrilled to finally have someone around who’s willing to be his friend. Also the court begins to notice that the Princess Helaena seems to have taken a liking to the new prince. Much to her mothers dismay, who’s fighting tooth and nail to have the girl be given to Aegon. Something neither sibling wanted. To Rhaegar everything was going smoothly until the news of Laena Velaryon death had dampen everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 20: Rhaegar

The Heir of Runestone rode leisurely through the gates of his keep. Looking over his shoulder dutifully, to make sure his new princeling ward successfully brings his mount to halt.

He must say, the Prince Lucerys is a fast learner. Letting himself trust his instincts, and paying attention to the bay horse’s mood, and adjusting to make the horse more at ease when spooked.

The ride from Rune Port to the keep wasn’t too long, about two hours.

Lucerys, the knight noted wasn’t his usual chatty self. The boy had a knack to talk a mile a minute, talking people’s ears off about any and everything. However now as they dismount Rhaegar can’t help but think Lucerys was frighten shitlesss at the prospect of squiring along side Aemond Targaryen.

The boy Lucerys had mutilated for the rest of his days. His uncle no less.

Hell if Rhaegar was in his shoes he’d be scared as well. Now Aemond may be the cousin he’s closest too, but even Rhaegar is knowledgeable of Aemond’s vengeful streak. Every time Aegon would insult the younger prince, Aemond was quick to retaliate. The now one eyed prince opted to hide important things that his brother regularly used, whether that be Aegon’s favorite goblet or his riding boots. Aemond was also a fan of hiding cheese in his brothers chambers to make it reek of rotten milk as the days passed. At time Rhaegar had found his friends little pranks amusing; however now Rhaegar could not afford to have these harm each other.

Runestone will fall into trouble with the crown, and most importantly both Lucerys and Aemond’s relationship will burned beyond repair.

“Be at ease cousin.” Patting Lucerys little head. “I told you, I spoke to Aemond. No one will purposely harm you so long your under my care.”

Shooting his younger cousin a dimpled smile. Lucerys smiles too, putting all his trust to the older boy.

“Prince Lucerys!” The booming voice of Ser Gerold called out in its usual jolly tone. Standing in the courtyard in his shiny bronze armor. Behind stood Gunthor Royce and his younger brother Yorwick. Their brown irises looking the new comer with curiosity.

“Welcome to Runestone.” The seasoned knight gives a the young prince a happy smile.

“Thank you Ser Gerold. It’s good to see you again…” the boys says awkwardly. The older man laughs enjoying the awkwardness.

“Well let’s head inside then. Nephew take the boy to the great hall.” His honey colored eyes turning serious as he quietly whispers to his nephew.

“I will not have these two boys rip each other to shreds.” Rhaegar nods. “State your conditions clearly and make sure they obey the rules.”

And with that the older man pats his nephews back and walks away to the Lord’s Study.

“Follow me cousin” Guiding the boy to hall where Aemond is currently being kept waiting.

Finally making it to the ancient weirwood wooden doors. Rhaegar mutters a quick runic prayer for peace that also happens to be carved onto the weirwood doors.

The sun shinning a stunning light through the large windows throughout the grand hall. Making the bronze throne glimmer majestically.

Making their presences known, a one eyed prince arises from his seat, bandages wrapped tightly around his head. Silver locks combed neatly, and green attire dressed impeccably as usual.

The Velaryon boys gulps nervously but steps forward nonetheless.

“Aemond” his voice fails him, quivering slightly.

The Green Prince sneers in return “Lucerys”

“Both of you take a seat” Rhaegar says gruffly.

Before either boy can utter anything else. Aemond doesn’t remove his sneer but takes his seat across his nephew. Lucerys reluctantly meets his uncle’s gaze. Rhaegar clears his throat’s uncomfortably. By the Seven fucking Gods this is going to be difficult. A cold sweat breaking down the poor juveniles brow.

“I know this situation may seem unorthodox…” he begins quietly, “The King has instructed me to make sure amends between you both be made. I know that his grace is asking for a lot and given past circumstances between you both, even I am unsure where to begin.”

Aemond’s lilac eye locks with little Lucerys’s blue eyes. He’s not sneering anymore but the harshness still hasn’t left it.

“Still a part of me hopes that the memories you both make here in Runestone are pleasant ones.”

Rhaegar sighs deeply.

“You both are family. You both have the blood of the dragon flowing through your veins. What happened at Driftmark…”

Lucerys shifts uncomfortably, quickly looking down at his brown leather boots.

“was a more than a regrettable accident.” The Heir of Runestone says with more conviction.

“It was a horrid act between cousins and nephews; tip toeing the line of the most vile sin to exist in our society”

Both Aemond and Lucerys now have their gazes fixed upon Rhaegar. The young knight would not sugarcoat anything for these two. They must know what could have happened had no one found them during their brawl.

“Kinslaying is the worst of sins to exist. That night the five of you could of easily became kinslayers.”

The disdain in Aemond’s single eye washes away, being replaced with something looking akin to shame. Lucerys wide child eyes begin to fill with tears and his thin lips begin to quiver.

“I didn’t mean to.” Lucerys cries to Aemond.

His blue eyes sparkling at his uncle in despair. Aemond for once didn’t have anything snarky to say. Instead the boy looks down at his hands.

Rhaegar continues his talk.

“Aye perhaps neither of you meant it. Insults were said, punches were thrown and an eye was cut out” Rhaegar stands up from his seat “you are all at fault though.”

“In the meantime for as long as the both of you are under my care, you will follow my orders.” His voice stern. “We will train diligently, honorably, and heavily. You will also tutor alongside me in sums and finance. But most importantly you both will learn how to work with each other a team.”

Rhaegar places a firm yet tender hand on both the boys heads.

“Neither of you will purposely harm each other. If you do, the BOTH of you will be punished.”

The two princes agree reluctantly. Shaking hands.

Rhaegar reaches to the table behind him, grabbing a large book of the Seven Pointed Star. Opening to a chapter near the end of the book.

“For those who swear in vain in the name of the Seven, will not be punished by their holy wrath but by thy own cowardly one.” Rhaegar reads to them.

“Swear it in the name of the Seven, that you both will not harm each other under the roof of Runestone.”

Both boys place their small pale slender hands on the holy text of the Seven.

“I swear it by the Old Gods and the New.” They say in-sync. Looking at each other in the eyes.

“So be it.”

Rhaegar’s heart beating more at ease now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You guys we made it to chapter 20!!!! WHOOT WHOOT!!! 🥳🎉🎊 Thank You all so much!!! I appreciate every like and comment so much!!! Love you guys forever!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️ Here’s to 20 more chapters 🥂🥂🥂 lmaooooo

#daemon targaryen x rhea royce #targaryen royce oc #helaena targaryen x oc #original targaryen character #oc!targaryenroyce

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thesadboy · 2 years

Text

The Freedwomen AU

Children of Lyanna

Children of Rhaella

Children of Elia Martell

In an AU where Rhaegar still dies at the Trident, but the women he had hurt survive and thrive...

Elia and her children are smuggled out onto a boat headed to Dorne with the help of her uncle Lewyn. As she recovers from the trauma while safely back at home, she realizes that she's pregnant due to Rhaegar bedding her one last time before going off to battle. All her loved ones are scared that this pregnancy will kill her but with the help of a skilled midwife and maester, a successful c-section is performed on her without killing her. She brings her last children into the world, a pair of twins and they live a happy life with their mother and siblings.

Rhaenys Targaryen Martell

"Nyssy"

"Talisa Sand"

"The Sunsailor"

-Being the eldest and having had the most memories of the viciousness of the court in Kingslanding, along with narrowly surviving Amory Lorch's attack, she's incredibly protective of her siblings. Because of this, she also prefers to keep to herself and can take some time to get her to warm up to you.

-She doesn't like being called "Rhae" as a nickname, as she also associates it with her sire who abandoned her, so Oberyn came up with the nickname "Nyssy." Ever since then, it's been a term of endearment for her from her family

-Grew close to her great uncle Lewyn's paramour, Alba Sand, and often loved spending time with and learning from her.

-When she was first brought to the Water Gardens, she enjoyed playing in the water with the other children. This love of the water stayed with her as she grew and she became quite a skilled swimmer and sailor. Her mother would joke that she was half-mermaid, something that has her equal parts embarassed and touched.

-Loves reading on different parts of Dornish history, be it of real accounts or mythological ones. Her favorite story is about how Nymeria came to Dorne, especially the part where she encouraged her people to intermingle with the inhabitants out of a wish to unite them.

-Trained alongside her cousin Obara, wanting to learn how to defend herself and her loved ones. This causes the cousins to be the best of friends and for her to become quite skilled at both the sword and the bow. Whenever she had time, she'd ride out to hunt for birds and would often bring enough for her family to have banquets. During these banquets, the Smallfolk would also be open to feasting alongside their Lords and Rhaenys would enjoy sharing stories with children, low or highborn.

-Loves her little brother Aegon and calls him "Eggy", though not to the extent of their Targaryen ancestors. In fact, the idea of incest puts her off that when Elia admitted that part of Rhaegar's plan behind the prophecy was to marry her and Aegon to "the third head" she was disgusted.

-Prefers to believe she was named after The Queen Who Never Was instead of one of The Conquerors, it makes the idea of her naming more palatable to her.

-Became a skilled merchant thanks to her voyages where she brought back treasures and new trade partners for House Martell. During these voyages, she went under the alias "Talisa Sand" but has also embraced the moniker she had earned, that being "The Sunsailor." She had also caught the eye of a certain redheaded Stark heir while doing a trade deal in White Harbor. She returned his feelings and some say that they had a Rhoynish wedding ceremony while at sea.

-After some confusion regarding her identity was cleared and she and Robb Stark came clean to their families, Ned and Elia permitted them to marry. It not only helped heal any aminosity between Dorne and The North, but it also opened up trade deals between the two kingdoms. After she wed Robb in front of a Heart Tree, she preferred to keep the surname Martell.

-Had three children, a girl named Elana then twin boys named Brennon and Torren. Her children would later found the new cadet House of House Stark, House Sunstark.

Aegon Targaryen Martell

"Eggy"

"Aegon Swiftspear"

"Aegon the Beloved"

-Very passionate, impatient, and loving. It was often said that he seemed to be his uncle Oberyn born once again, which would make his heart swell with pride as he saw his uncle as more of a father to him than his sire.

-Trained under his uncle in the way of the spear and how to use speed to his advantage. Him incorporating these lessons into duels he participated in earned him the moniker "Swiftspear" which he proudly embraced, seeing as it was similar to the moniker of one of the few historical Targaryens he did like, that being Baelor Breakspear.

-When he learned about Rhaegar's initial plan to marry him and Rhaenys to the intended "third head", the idea seemed so ridiculous to him that he laughed.

-A huge mama's boy, something he was initially embarrassed about but as he grew older, he wore it with pride. To him, Elia Martell would always be the best choice of Queen and he admittedly is bitter over the treatment she had received while at court. As such, he's often the first to react angrily among Elia's children if someone insults her.

-Tended to be extremely impulsive which at first, worried Elia as it could be a sign that he may turn out like his sire. But over time, the positive influence of his relatives helped curb this trait of his, though it does occasionally kick into full gear if anyone mistreats his loved ones.

-Loves the color blue and often wears it, even occasionally dyeing his hair blue. He only does the latter in privacy though.

-Like his uncle, he's bisexual. This sprouted rumors that he had bedded numerous people, though these were highly exaggerated, much like other hypersexualised talk of the Dornish. He's also polyamorous, having gotten into a happy and loving four-way relationship with his cousins Arianne and Tyene along with Ser Daemon Sand. This became a rather scandalous and infamous topic of gossip out of Dorne, but Eggy and his lovers could care less.

-While his older sister was often aloof and kept to herself, he was more outgoing. Smallfolk and nobles alike were drawn to his magnetic personality and he made many friends. He also earned the moniker "Aegon the Beloved" after he and his sister Lorea started suggesting and coming up with laws that could help the smallfolk which his uncle Doran implemented.

-Eventually married Arianne through a wedding following The Faith of the Seven. But the two married their paramours in a Rhoynish wedding ceremony.

-Had six children. His children with Arianne included twin girls named Aria and Elia, then a boy named Maron. His children with Tyene included a girl named Nymella, then a boy named Mors, then another boy named Olyvar. His and Tyene's sons were named after their uncles who died in the cradle. Different cadet branches of House Martell were formed by his and Tyene's children, with Nymella forming House Nymerion, Mors forming House Martell of Planky Town, and Olyvar forming House Martell of the Greenblood.

Lorea Martell Targaryen

"Rea"

"Lorea the Just"

"Lady Lustrious"

-The older of the twins, being born five minutes before her twin brother.

-Named after her grandmother Loreza Martell. When Elia told Oberyn about her intention to do so, Oberyn admitted that he would want to also name a daughter of his after their mother, so they settled on a compromise.

-Headstrong and confident, she often fought for the right thing to be done. As such, she was often seen by her Uncle Doran's side whenever he oversaw any grievances from his people, often advocating for true justice and fairness. She disliked certain parts of Westerosi culture, such as the kinslaying taboo or bastardy stigma, speaking up for those who killed abusive relatives in self-defense or for bastards whose birth brought them troubles. Because of this, like her brother Aegon, she was loved among the smallfolk but unlike him, the highborn found her to be a thorn on the side. This reputation of hers earned her the moniker "Lorea the Just" which the smallfolk would call her earnestly, while the highborn would call her that mockingly.

-Is very close to her uncle Doran, and he considers her to be another daughter of his. She learned under his tutelage and with her cousin Arianne, they became his most trusted advisors.

-While she mostly dislikes her Targaryen heritage and doesn't have a high opinion of most Targaryen men, she can't help but be fascinated with the lives of the often overlooked Targaryen women. In particular, she loves reading about the daughters of the conciliator and has collected different songs and stories made about Saera.

-Interested in horticulture, medicine, mixology, she learned how to care for different plants and turn them into potions and poisons. These, she would distribute to the smallfolk whenever she visited the Shadow city.

-Between her older siblings, she's closer to Aegon because of their similar dispositions and she's the one who came up with his nickname "Eggy" while he gave her the nickname "Rea"

-Can be very stubborn, and quick to form opinions of people before getting to know them. This has landed her in trouble several times, and while she has improved over time, she still sometimes catches herself making jumping to assumptions of others that she holds onto.

-Because she's the more outspoken of the two, she's the "speaker" of the twins, with her talking for both of them while her brother Lewyn often hides behind her. She was said to shine as bright as her House's sigil, earning her the nickname "Lady Lustrious"

-She's close friends with her cousins Sarella and Elia along with Allyria Dayne.

-While delivering her potions to the Smallfolk, she met a Tyren Toland, who was a son of Lady Nymella Toland's distant cousin. The two fell in love and had three children, a boy named Valero, then a girl named Nymara, then another boy named Teodore. Her and Tyren's sons were named after his cousins Valena and Teora while their daughter was named after her cousin Nymeria.

Lewyn Martell Targaryen

"Wynyy"

"Lewyn the Scholar"

"The Nomad Prince"

-The younger of the twins, being born five minutes after his twin sister.

-Named after his great uncle Lewyn, who died sacrificing himself to give Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon a chance to escape. He's often seen tending to Lewyn's grave in House Martell's crypt, making sure the candles are lit and flowers are replaced.

-A lover of the arts, he busied himself with painting, pottery, and poetry. It was said that he had a lovely voice and was also skilled at the harp, though people comparing him to his sire whenever they witnessed the latter would upset him. He also loved reading, often being found sitting by a candlelight with his nose buried in a book.

-Very soft-spoken and shy, he often hid behind his mother or sisters' skirts. It was observed that when he was introduced to his extended family, he was initially scared of Doran and Oberyn and that when he and his siblings were first brought to the Water Gardens, he played by himself in a corner of the pools.

-Between his older siblings, he's closer to Rhaenys because they are similarly aloof and prefer to keep to themselves. He often calls her by her nickname "Nyssy" that it's rare for her to call her Rhaenys except during the few times they fight.

-Despite his shyness, it was said that there was a charm to him that could only be noticed once you gained his trust and were close to him. In particular the younger Sand Snakes were fond of him as his gentleness and patience made him a great babysitter for them. He was also close to his second cousin, Meria Sand, who was the granddaughter of Lewyn and Alba through their firstborn, Myriah Sand.

-Unlike his namesake, he wasn't really interested in learning to fight. The most he would do was just learn how to defend himself should he ever become ambushed. He did keep small daggers in his boots though for safety.

-Growing up, he seemed frail and fragile like his mother was, often having to be tended to by Sunspear maesters. Even though his family would always reassure him that they don't mind caring for him, he couldn't help but feel guilty over it.

-Was the first to learn of Rhaenys falling in love with Robb since she told him, at first he was wary of the Stark boy, but grew to like him too and approve of their relationship.

-When he reached his sixteenth nameday, he revealed to his family that he wanted to make something of himself instead of "being a burden to them," wanting to go see more of Dorne since most of his early life was spent indoors out of concern for his constitution. His uncle Doran and his mother initially forbid it, but some convincing from Rhaenys and Oberyn, he was permitted to do so. With his most precious belongings, some food and water, and a spare change of clothes, he left with two Sand Steeds.

-During his travels around Dorne, he regularly wrote to his family and sent them gifts while they would have money sent to him whenever he would temporarily settle in a town or city. To their surprise, they learned that he had acquired a retinue of paramours, as various older ladies had grown drawn to his charm.

-Eventually, he did return to Sunspear with his paramours and many bastard children. His paramours were affectionately dubbed "The Ladies of the Dunes" since he met most of them while traveling through the dunes while his children were called "The Sands of the Dunes" to differentiate them from their cousins the Sand Snakes. While he introduced his paramours and children to his family, Meria Sand would admit she love for him and would proudly become a Lady of the Dune.

-Among his many children were a girl named Larra who was his firstborn, a boy named Elias, twins named Doren and Dara, a child named Alina (who would refer to themself as neither a man and woman), and many more.

#dexreads asoiaf #dexwatches got #asoiafoc #asoiaf oc #rhaenys iii targaryen #rhaenys martell targaryen #aegon vi targaryen #aegon martell targaryen #rhaenys daughter of elia #aegon son of elia #oc: lorea martell #oc: lewyn ii martell #asoiaf au #the freedwomen au #listen most of these may be unrealistic by asoiaf standards #but I want them to be happy okay #mine own postsss

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