This last year has been hard, as probably seen by my several hiatuses, and stewing over it for a while, I decided it’s time to let go. The last season had taken much of the enthusiasm out of me for the show, and I have reached a point where I think I will feel better away from the fandom space — mentally, the discourse is not something I can handle anymore and prefer to stay away from. This blog was mostly created for the HOTD fandom, hence, it will become inactive. For those of you who followed The Protector of the Realm, I am sorry to say it is discontinued. I tried hard to continue it over the past year, especially for the darlings friends and readers who had been waiting for it, but the lack of motivation and mental leisure to write it (and some toxicity around it…) did me in. While I don’t think many have waited for it, for those who did — I really am sorry.
I am keeping this blog up as an archive for the many fics I uploaded here, and the same goes for my AO3. On AO3 specifically, I may post new works that I may write for myself in the future, but that will be the only place I am active and that is only in a very big question mark too.
Thank you for the good times, guys and bye bye❤️🙏🏻
Not sure if you still want Jaehaegon prompts BUT a fic/drabble of the way Aegon III and Jaehaera both grieve specifically their mothers would go insane especially with your writing. Them being both extremely codependent yet unable to talk to the other about this one thing, the suppressed guilt, the waking nightmares Aegon would surely have of Jaehaera’s beloved father having his mother eaten alive right in front of him…plus the books say Rhaenyra was so dependent on having Aegon around 24/7 after she lost all her other children, how would that manifest in him now?
Have a really nice day!!!
a/n: ahhhhh i loved writing this prompt. it had been on my mind since i got it and i finally got time to tap into it (as well as other reqs that i'm slowly chipping into!). i hope you will enjoy this dear, and thank you so much for the compliments too <3 it ended up more about Aegon's experiences but there are touches on Jaehaera's side of things. I do write TG side of things more often though so he def deserves the focus I feel!
“Even while we are in the castle, you are not to leave me. Not for a moment, Aegon,” she says, tugging roughly on his hand.
“Mother, I—” he replies, frightened at the clutch of her grip. He first tries to escape, pull his arm away, but she holds him tighter while his legs try to match her pace. “Mother, it hurts!”
And her grip suddenly loosens. He nearly trips, on the sands of Dragonstone, the dunes he had once built castles with on this shore, with his brothers. Rhaenyra falls to her knees upon it, clutching him against her in an apologetic embrace. “I am sorry. I am sorry…” she swallows
He feels the very air of the island is awry, not the same, as her feet and dress bury into the sand. He holds her back, trying to keep her afloat, though his own throat is dry at what to say. Ser Alfred Broome and his men watching him made him both shy and chilled.
She runs a hand through his hair. “We shall see to that our home is safe, and stay safe, the two of us, yes?”
Aegon is scared, feeling dwarved by the world, but his mother’s voice is begging, and his only offer to console her, as always, is to agree.
“...Yes—”
The earth beneath becomes hot, as the sun rises above Dragonstone, turning from yellow to gold. Its rays turn into flare, and the sand turns into glass. He screams for his mother to flee — but glass shatters, puncturing his throat as he screams.
He wakes up in cold sweat, his whole body trembling. He is alone on his side of the bed, and the wind blows harshly from the open window, but not enough to dispel the heat from his bones. As if possessed, he lifts himself up from the bed, eyes taking in the dark room.
“Aegon?” Jaehaera stands up. She had sat by a roaring fireplace, making the woods within it crack as they blacken. And for a moment, it is equal parts anxiety and betrayal, tears against the dam that are his silver lash line. His feet thunder before him, grabbing the golden pitcher of wine on their table, tossing it whole at the fireplace. Droplets from it scatter like tricklets of blood on the carpet. The fire sizzles as Jaehaera gasps, but it is not fully put out.
“It won’t disappear, it won’t disappear!” his low voice trembles. His breaths feel like fire courses up his throat, and he feels sick. On the brink of vomiting from disgust — his own home is not safe, his own body betraying him to become flame — he thinks Jaehaera too is running away from him, but soon enough, she finds a glass of water within their room to douse the remaining flame.
The room then darkens significantly. The moonlight remains, refusing to let him become blind for the end, but he closes his eyes, wanting to refuse to its will too. He is not burnt, but he feels fragile ash, left behind in the wind, falling to the floor.
In the complete silence that dominates the room, in the black escape of his closed eyes, he sees his mother, as though she has never left. He hadn’t been allowed to move an inch from her, until the very moment the beast had devoured her. The one moment he wanted to run to her, make her move. The fire devoured her, as did the dragon, but he remained behind, her shadow.
A shadow of a man remains today, too.
The utter quiet that he regains his mind in remains unbroken until he opens his eyes, doing his best to keep any tears unshed. Jaehaera doesn’t dare to move a step, her fingers curling around the empty glass of water as she watches him. His heart weakens again — he should’ve known not to be so helpless in the presence of women just as helpless as he.
Mother, I’m sorry, he wants to return to the dream, to say that to her instead. He cannot, but his wife is here.
“I…” it’s on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t know how to begin. He doesn’t want to apologize, when he still feels his mother’s hold on him. But I shouldn’t have scared her, still, and yet again, if he does apologize, he’d have to explain why, to begin with.
He and Jaehaera don’t speak of these things. For the better of them both, for the sake of their lost loved kin, for the sake of love not being lost again. She knows what had occurred on Dragonstone, as he knows what has occurred in King’s Landing. The histories will not forget, but they ever attempt to do so, regardless.
‘Tis be duty, for the very realm. He would say that to himself, again and again, until his own guilt creeps up on him. Reminding him so — that this is his sin, the need to cling to the daughter of the scorching sun, the last light.
Jaehaera puts away the cup, and approaches him with ghostly steps. If she had liked, she could thunder through the room. She could give him her known scowl and turn away. She could even leave with less than a whisper. Everything is imaginable, when they have went through all imaginable. As a little girl, he heard her weep more than he can count, even from the other side of Maegor’s Holdfast, but she’s no longer that little girl.
She lowers herself to her knees too, and reaches over to embrace him, guiding his head to occupy the crook of her neck. The stone floor is firm, but he feels himself sinking into her. His breaths grow wavering again.
“I’m sorry,” it finally comes out, those words and the tears, and the honest, brutal truth. “It won’t leave me,” he says. “That memory, my mother—” he stops himself, shutting his eyes hard.
It aches so deeply, and it tears him apart, him of the past and him of the future. In this present, this very moment, he doesn’t even know who he is at all. Doesn’t know how to talk, or explain, or do a thing but freeze in time, so afraid of fire.
Jaehaera holds him tighter. Her fingers move soothingly through the nearby white of his hair, when she finally allows herself to speak. “Do you remember the first time you held me?” she asks him.
He swallows. He remembers, yes. One would expect it to be their first night, but it wasn’t. His first hold of her had been a full year prior, when she had been reduced to tears at a feast. Nothing of his machinations, but of his regents. Their planning, however, had not taken into account that that day had been the anniversary of his aunt Helaena’s death. Or perhaps they had, and only wished to overwrite the day’s meaning.
Aegon hadn’t realized. Jaehaera had barely spoken a pip to him back then. But then she broke down in tears in the middle of the feast, and although he had been apt to ignore her from their distant rooms, he couldn’t quite ignore it then when The Queen fled the room, and everyone simply stood and watched.
None of his regents could hold him in his place, for the very principle he refuses to ever be reduced to a spectator by ‘loyal’ men.
And so he went after her — and they were ever so clear with how she looked down the moat, and mumbled about ‘mum’. He had been there when her mother died; it connected quickly. There were no words he could dare speak. No matter how averse to touch he had been, his only way to answer her had been his arms coming around her, and letting her sob within them.
He assumed it would be a futile effort, as holding the hands of those who slowly passed from Winter Fever had been… but she cried until she fell asleep, until he had already been lulled by the night himself, and they both woke up the morning after to the sun’ touching them with only soft rays.
“I know what plagues you, as you know what plagues me,” Jaehaera tells him. “You held me when I cried for my kin and the past. You needed no explanation or clause to console me. I won’t ask it of you either,” she says. “‘It is enough reason to hold you, knowing you need to be held.”
Aegon gathers her in his arms, some will of strength returning to them.
He can ask her to never leave his side. He can plead with her, that they have to make this home safe, to remain safe, the two of them. He can leave her with no choice but to agree, even if she is doubtful. He can — but he doesn’t think he has to. She knows, and he has reached a place where his belief in it, his own yes, is not laced with doubt.
Aegon closes his eyes, and lets himself weep until sleep overtakes him. Within his drowsiness, as his last tear falls, he can see his mother at the back of his mind, offering him a soft smile. The morning sun will wake him again, but there will be no scorching no more. His last light’s tight embrace assures it too.
how to draw the line between wrath and mercy? — hayley williams, simmer. // click for a closer look
alicent and elenda strolling in the courtyard. for @florisbaratheons’s fic, The Wrath of The Queen thank you so much for creating something that gave me an excuse to do something fun instead of my all overdue tafe work
HII your jaehaera x aegon iii has taken over my brain like OMGGG him & jaehaera >>>> but my request (if your still taking them) is how team green and black see how Aegon iii is infatuated/fixated/in love with Jaehaera. it's moments like Aegon talking to his brothers until he suddenly goes silent, his eyes tracking Jaehaera who's passing by. Or Jaehaera dancing with another man and his jealousy. No matter the situation the way he looks at her is the same. Gentle and tender but intense. Like I need this man to be a devout simp 😩🫡
a/n: thank you so much love!! they have genuinely took over my brain i'm so happy i'm not alone in this lmaoo. now i didn't really have time to write the past few days sadly (which is why other reqs are still pending - sorry guys!), but for this request i actually had something in my drafts that fit to it. i am writing a chaptered fic au for jaehaegon (...and jaehaerys/viserys ii lol) and i've been testing writing interactions for them to get the vibe i want... it changed a lot since then, but this was one of the test fics. i hope you will enjoy it! this is viserys ii pov, but there are lots of mentions to other characters.
It is deep into the night’s feast when he notices Aegon playing with the ruby ring upon his pinky.
Well. Viserys supposes the more proper word is fiddle, though his brother is hardly a restless man. He is far more fitting into the description of rigid, filling the black of his doublets with broad shoulders of deliberate posture and a sense of responsibility.
Or at least so he had been, until their estranged family had come for a visit. Their uncle and aunt had come out of the woodworks that had been Oldtown to request to build a Keep to the west of it. That had been for their son, who had nothing to inherit, as it stands. Viserys’s mother had allowed them to make their case, his father had allowed them to see his smirks, but nothing yet had been set in stone.
It is an art, to convince those who never planned on being convinced. While Prince Aegon the Elder and Princess Helaena had been mostly unsuccessful in their endeavours, their daughter Jaehaera, had entered the court with prideful flare to her step and an ever-determined gaze. One could not say she had charmed his mother and father, but Viserys thinks they had hardly been the ones she had her mind on setting her claws in.
Instead, his own brother, usually so clear-headed and mindful, had his dark purple gaze almost unwaveringly on her. A genuine fool, he thinks. Viserys does not know what the witch has done to make him so dim-witted, but gods be good, she had known her plays.
While her twin and younger brother had sat nearby him at the table for the better of the event, Jaehaera had entered the feast late, much after everyone’s introductions. The announcement of her arrival had music forced to a stop, setting the majority of eyes to the entrance.
A lady pleasing on the eyes would steal a man’s thought, that is evident with his own brother, but a lady with strong enough wit would steal a man’s mind. And as music restarted with the appearance of her smile, and men flocked by her for a dance, Aegon could not be more obvious he had not been at peace, drinking vintage he had prior declared abhorrent.
In truth, Aegon the Younger paralleled Aegon the Elder with the sudden swallow of drinks. And while his brother had been staunchly, unabashedly, moronically staring at Jaehaera, her father had been dead on Aegon the Younger himself, looking just about ready to toss his goblet at him.
The atmosphere from her brothers hadn’t been much better. Sitting between Jaehaerys and Aegon the Younger, Viserys had felt a proper wall of separation. The man beside him may have known he needed to keep quiet if he wanted to get his damned Keep, but he had been looking at his brother with intense scrutiny for days now.
Little Maelor on the other hand had the gall to laugh while remaining within his mask of an innocent lamb. And when he next does, it is at the same time Viserys wishes to sink into his chair and disappear into it from embarrassment.
Some golden-haired man had invited Jaehaera to a dance. Not an unexpected occurrence; dancing does happen in feasts. But while his brother had attempted to busy himself with playing with his food like a child, he lifted his head again when the dance ended - only to see said man holding onto Jaehaera’s gem earrings while speaking to her in proximity that is questionable — and there, his brother had to stand. Literally.
Jaehaera looked towards Aegon in the eye then, as everyone else did, but within capturing her gaze, his mouth had become voiceless despite it being opened ajar.
And he stood there uncomfortably, unable to even cuss the man whose offense he stood up against to begin with. As if he’s going to make a fucking toast, or something. I cannot believe this. Baela had told him and Jace alike that she thinks they may be ought to bind their brother to some post to prevent him from acting up. Jace, kind crown-prince he is, completely dismissed it, but now looking at him, he thinks he too just realized their sister had been right.
Meanwhile mother looked properly frazzled herself, sharing a look with his father that had been so pointed, even King Consort Daemon himself realized he had to give a damn. “Continue the music,” his mother had told the musicians not far away from them, while father had gestured to Aegon to come his way, and now.
Whatever point words their father had decided to rebuke Aegon with, his brother had received them with properly flushed cheeks, should it be from the embarrassment, or the drinking, of whatever blood that didn’t manage to make it to his brain.
Aegon had soon left the table for the grand floor, finding himself some girl to dance with instead. A daughter of one of their loyal courtiers, he believes. Viserys releases a sigh of relief when he sees that. Perhaps now his blood pressure can calm.
His cousin — Jaehaerys, that is — seems to release a lousy scoff.
Viserys turns to him with a frown. “You have something to say?”
Viserys will admit; he is defensive of his brother, as foolish as he may have acted these days. He would not hear giggles or scoffs at him. Jaehaerys, on his part, is unfazed, staring yet still on the floor, and at the dance that has partners swapping left and right.
“There is little to say in this situation, no?” Jaehaerys answers. “Even little that can be done, or prevented, don’t you agree?”
Viserys doesn’t bother acting the fool, but his cousin better not either. “On your side, mayhaps,” he answers. “Your sister will lose you your Keep if this continues, you know this?”
Jaehaerys eyes grow daggered, and he lowers his voice. “There isn’t going to be any damn Keep given from your parents, even my own ones’ grovel,” he says cutthroat. Viserys stares at him. He knows well enough, huh? “Don’t assume me stupid. Nor should you assume my sister stupid. This had been a losing game since arrival, for the lot of my family… but she’ll cut her losses even in the most futile of dances.”
When Viserys looks back at the dance floor, their siblings are dancing together. Viserys licks his lips. There is something there that can’t be prevented, perhaps, but also something that won’t quite be approved by all of their parents. What would it do, in the long run? Nothing.
“And throwing herself at my brother would be cutting her losses?” he asks back, more sincere than he even planned on sounding. He even tries to pick his words carefully. “It would not do her good either, to end up seeming a… seductress.”
Jaehaerys tsks. “No need to dance around. I’ll say it as it is, fully and wholly — She has no plans on being your brother’s whore,” he brings a hand forward; the one with six fingers, and lays above the back of Viserys’s hand on the table. His fingers fill the spaces between his, the little extra pinky standing up purposefully. Viserys freezes for a moment, and nearly takes his hand back when Jaehaerys opens his mouth again. “It only takes one extra step to make honey from enticing, to trapping.”
The extra finger curls against Viserys’s palm as Jaehaerys intertwined their fingers, squeezing lightly with a smile. Viserys swallows and only manages to remember to snatch away his hand when Jaehaerys’s chuckle comes along with the brush of his thumb against the side of his palm.
What the fuck. He rises himself from his chair, needing some damn distance. Whatever the fuck his cousins have in mind, they live in their own world, as do their father and their mother.
By the time he manages to absolve himself from the almost scorching feeling of Jaehaerys’s hand on his, the feast is over, and they all go their own ways, Viserys himself remaining rushing to his room.
The morning after, when he sees Jaehaerys’s face again, he has a look in his eye that is ever-knowing. And for a moment, he thinks in mortification it is all about him — but it is not. It is only then, that he starts understanding what her brother truly meant the night prior.
Jaehaera is standing by her twin, smiling absentmindedly and fiddling with a ruby ring on her bony thumb, and his brother, his dear, foolish brother, stares at her with his bare fingers and doting eyes, ready only to give more.
HII your jaehaera x aegon iii has taken over my brain like OMGGG him & jaehaera >>>> but my request (if your still taking them) is how team green and black see how Aegon iii is infatuated/fixated/in love with Jaehaera. it's moments like Aegon talking to his brothers until he suddenly goes silent, his eyes tracking Jaehaera who's passing by. Or Jaehaera dancing with another man and his jealousy. No matter the situation the way he looks at her is the same. Gentle and tender but intense. Like I need this man to be a devout simp 😩🫡
a/n: thank you so much love!! they have genuinely took over my brain i'm so happy i'm not alone in this lmaoo. now i didn't really have time to write the past few days sadly (which is why other reqs are still pending - sorry guys!), but for this request i actually had something in my drafts that fit to it. i am writing a chaptered fic au for jaehaegon (...and jaehaerys/viserys ii lol) and i've been testing writing interactions for them to get the vibe i want... it changed a lot since then, but this was one of the test fics. i hope you will enjoy it! this is viserys ii pov, but there are lots of mentions to other characters.
It is deep into the night’s feast when he notices Aegon playing with the ruby ring upon his pinky.
Well. Viserys supposes the more proper word is fiddle, though his brother is hardly a restless man. He is far more fitting into the description of rigid, filling the black of his doublets with broad shoulders of deliberate posture and a sense of responsibility.
Or at least so he had been, until their estranged family had come for a visit. Their uncle and aunt had come out of the woodworks that had been Oldtown to request to build a Keep to the west of it. That had been for their son, who had nothing to inherit, as it stands. Viserys’s mother had allowed them to make their case, his father had allowed them to see his smirks, but nothing yet had been set in stone.
It is an art, to convince those who never planned on being convinced. While Prince Aegon the Elder and Princess Helaena had been mostly unsuccessful in their endeavours, their daughter Jaehaera, had entered the court with prideful flare to her step and an ever-determined gaze. One could not say she had charmed his mother and father, but Viserys thinks they had hardly been the ones she had her mind on setting her claws in.
Instead, his own brother, usually so clear-headed and mindful, had his dark purple gaze almost unwaveringly on her. A genuine fool, he thinks. Viserys does not know what the witch has done to make him so dim-witted, but gods be good, she had known her plays.
While her twin and younger brother had sat nearby him at the table for the better of the event, Jaehaera had entered the feast late, much after everyone’s introductions. The announcement of her arrival had music forced to a stop, setting the majority of eyes to the entrance.
A lady pleasing on the eyes would steal a man’s thought, that is evident with his own brother, but a lady with strong enough wit would steal a man’s mind. And as music restarted with the appearance of her smile, and men flocked by her for a dance, Aegon could not be more obvious he had not been at peace, drinking vintage he had prior declared abhorrent.
In truth, Aegon the Younger paralleled Aegon the Elder with the sudden swallow of drinks. And while his brother had been staunchly, unabashedly, moronically staring at Jaehaera, her father had been dead on Aegon the Younger himself, looking just about ready to toss his goblet at him.
The atmosphere from her brothers hadn’t been much better. Sitting between Jaehaerys and Aegon the Younger, Viserys had felt a proper wall of separation. The man beside him may have known he needed to keep quiet if he wanted to get his damned Keep, but he had been looking at his brother with intense scrutiny for days now.
Little Maelor on the other hand had the gall to laugh while remaining within his mask of an innocent lamb. And when he next does, it is at the same time Viserys wishes to sink into his chair and disappear into it from embarrassment.
Some golden-haired man had invited Jaehaera to a dance. Not an unexpected occurrence; dancing does happen in feasts. But while his brother had attempted to busy himself with playing with his food like a child, he lifted his head again when the dance ended - only to see said man holding onto Jaehaera’s gem earrings while speaking to her in proximity that is questionable — and there, his brother had to stand. Literally.
Jaehaera looked towards Aegon in the eye then, as everyone else did, but within capturing her gaze, his mouth had become voiceless despite it being opened ajar.
And he stood there uncomfortably, unable to even cuss the man whose offense he stood up against to begin with. As if he’s going to make a fucking toast, or something. I cannot believe this. Baela had told him and Jace alike that she thinks they may be ought to bind their brother to some post to prevent him from acting up. Jace, kind crown-prince he is, completely dismissed it, but now looking at him, he thinks he too just realized their sister had been right.
Meanwhile mother looked properly frazzled herself, sharing a look with his father that had been so pointed, even King Consort Daemon himself realized he had to give a damn. “Continue the music,” his mother had told the musicians not far away from them, while father had gestured to Aegon to come his way, and now.
Whatever point words their father had decided to rebuke Aegon with, his brother had received them with properly flushed cheeks, should it be from the embarrassment, or the drinking, of whatever blood that didn’t manage to make it to his brain.
Aegon had soon left the table for the grand floor, finding himself some girl to dance with instead. A daughter of one of their loyal courtiers, he believes. Viserys releases a sigh of relief when he sees that. Perhaps now his blood pressure can calm.
His cousin — Jaehaerys, that is — seems to release a lousy scoff.
Viserys turns to him with a frown. “You have something to say?”
Viserys will admit; he is defensive of his brother, as foolish as he may have acted these days. He would not hear giggles or scoffs at him. Jaehaerys, on his part, is unfazed, staring yet still on the floor, and at the dance that has partners swapping left and right.
“There is little to say in this situation, no?” Jaehaerys answers. “Even little that can be done, or prevented, don’t you agree?”
Viserys doesn’t bother acting the fool, but his cousin better not either. “On your side, mayhaps,” he answers. “Your sister will lose you your Keep if this continues, you know this?”
Jaehaerys eyes grow daggered, and he lowers his voice. “There isn’t going to be any damn Keep given from your parents, even if my own ones’ grovel,” he says cutthroat. Viserys stares at him. He knows well enough, huh? “Don’t assume me stupid. Nor should you assume my sister stupid. This had been a losing game since arrival, for the lot of my family… but she’ll cut her losses even in the most futile of dances.”
When Viserys looks back at the dance floor, their siblings are dancing together. Viserys licks his lips. There is something there that can’t be prevented, perhaps, but also something that won’t quite be approved by all of their parents. What would it do, in the long run? Nothing.
“And throwing herself at my brother would be cutting her losses?” he asks back, more sincere than he even planned on sounding. He even tries to pick his words carefully. “It would not do her good either, to end up seeming a… seductress.”
Jaehaerys tsks. “No need to dance around it. I’ll say it as it is, fully and wholly — she has no plans on being your brother’s whore,” he brings a hand forward; the one with six fingers, and lays above the back of Viserys’s hand on the table. His fingers fill the spaces between his, the little extra pinky standing up purposefully. Viserys freezes for a moment, and nearly takes his hand back when Jaehaerys opens his mouth again. “It only takes one extra step to make honey from enticing, to trapping.”
The extra finger curls against Viserys’s palm as Jaehaerys intertwined their fingers, squeezing lightly with a smile. Viserys swallows and only manages to remember to snatch away his hand when Jaehaerys’s chuckle comes along with the brush of his thumb against the side of his palm.
What the fuck. He rises himself from his chair, needing some damn distance. Whatever the fuck his cousins have in mind, they live in their own world, as do their father and their mother.
By the time he manages to absolve himself from the almost scorching feeling of Jaehaerys’s hand on his, the feast is over, and they all go their own ways, Viserys himself remaining rushing to his room.
The morning after, when he sees Jaehaerys’s face again, he has a look in his eye that is ever-knowing. And for a moment, he thinks in mortification it is all about him — but it is not. It is only then, that he starts understanding what her brother truly meant the night prior.
Jaehaera is standing by her twin, smiling absentmindedly and fiddling with a ruby ring on her bony thumb, and his brother, his dear, foolish brother, stares at her with his bare fingers and doting eyes, ready only to give more.
do you ever think about how sometimes it just... takes one random message? and suddenly you find yourself with a best friend or in constant conversation with someone who lives on the other side of the world but is just as much of a freak as you are or maybe you find yourself in love with someone without a last name but with so much kindness and affection in their words and presence. crazy how life and love and friendship just happen
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