ᝰ⠀ ⠀ NTRGYN ⠀ ⠀ ⸻ ⠀ ⠀ is an independent, multi-para, mutuals only, canon-derivative roleplay blog dedicated to NAERYS TARGARYEN, as depicted in george r. r martin’s a song of ice and fire and as envisioned by twenty-five year old eleanor﹙ due to a lack of source material ﹚.
❝ seven bear witness to the frailty of my heart. i have loathed where i should have only prayed — and so i will spend the rest of my days upon my knees, begging the gods to make holy what i could not make pure.
A STUDY IN . . . the woes of a queen, a youth stolen, a crown worn as penance, sacrifice, the erasure of the self, duty mistaken for virtue, devotion, praying to the maiden, kinship, the holy faith, motherhood, religious guilt, a life bartered at the altar of a dynasty, a dragon’s fire spent, a beauty cold and unearthly.
IN A COURT OF ﹙ affiliates ﹚. . . ꜰᴇʀᴀʟʀɪᴛᴇꜱ ᴍɪꜱʀʏʙʀᴇᴅ ᴏᴢɢᴏɢ
ON THE WINGS OF ﹙ mains ﹚. . . ᴡʀᴀᴇᴋᴀɢᴇ + ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇɴᴇxᴜꜱ + ᴅᴜᴛʏʟᴇᴅ + ᴍᴀɢɪᴋʙᴏʀɴ
GUIDELINES ! !
⁰⁰¹ ╱ age. due to the nature of the source material, as well as that of my own content, i won’t be writing with anyone below the age of 21. please make sure that your age or age range can be found somewhere on your blog.
⁰⁰² ╱ trigger warnings. this blog will include themes consistent with the world of a song of ice and fire, and thus all typical triggers associated with the series apply. discretion is advised, and i encourage open communication regarding any specific boundaries should you want to plot. although naerys’ marriage to aegon iv is an important part of her story, it will be referenced primarily as a plot device. her relationship with aemon will also be that of just brother and sister. while there are rumours of them being lovers, i will not be portraying their bond as romantic.
⁰⁰³ ╱ source material. while my portrayal of naerys will draw from the canon depiction found in fire & blood, much of her family dynamics, motivations, and personal nuances will be based on my own headcanons.
⁰⁰⁴ ╱ verses. this blog is crossover friendly. even if i may not have a verse written that fits your muse, you’re more than welcome to reach out or send asks.
⁰⁰⁵ ╱ shipping. i do engage in shipping and enjoy exploring character dynamics, but i won’t be doing incest ships. that’s a hard limit for me.
⁰⁰⁶ ╱ unfollowing. i’d appreciate it if you blocked me when you want to break mutuals. it just makes things easier and helps avoid the awkwardness of following each other again by accident.
all of the graphics on this blog have been made by @/raistudio, save for one set of dividers that are by @/selysie. the colouring psd used by the former are credited to @/gloomglimmer.
𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚 𝒂 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆 .ᐟ
@ntrgyn requested a closed starter.
maxence had spent his entire life aching to be part of the kingsguard. by extension, anyone with silver - gold hair and eyes of deep violet were beneath his care and required his protection. it was why they were out on the gold road at such an hour, with darkness surrounding them and tall trees casting shifting shadows across the stones. threats could strike from all angles — bandits and thieves, wolves and mountain cats. his dark eyes were trained, as they had been since their departure, on naerys before him. “do not ride too far ahead,” maxence warned, his white armour like a slice of moonlight, “all it takes is one moment, one turn of my head, and i could lose you. it is my duty to ensure you remain safe.”
THE INSIDES OF HER THIGHS BURN WITH EVERY STRIDE, her back held stiff against the rhythm of her horse — and yet, she tips forward to gently shush him, her hand trailing slow through his mane, pale and silken. ❝ perhaps we ought to make camp for the night. ❞ she turns, looking back to where THE KINGSGUARD ride. ❝ there’s still much ground to cover, and it appears he’s become rather anxious [ . . . ] ❞ and perhaps she has, too. while the trees along THE GOLD ROAD do not press as close as a forest might, the dark has a way of making the open feel less so. still, the thought of riding until dawn sit in her bones like a threat she has no intention of honouring for ❝ i fear i am nearing the limits of my endurance, SER MAXENCE. ❞
DATING PREFERENCES: monogamous / ethically nonmonogamous / monogamish / relationship anarchy / open relationships / polyamorous / doesn't date / dates casually / dates with intent to form relationships
LOVE LANGUAGES / STYLES: words of affirmation / quality time / acts of service / receiving gifts / physical touch / activity / appreciation / emotional / financial / intellectual / physical / practical
SEXUAL INCLINATIONS: sex favourable / sex adverse / sex indifferent / hypersexual / sex-repulsed / bottom / top / versatile / vers bottom / vers top / service top / power bottom / stone top / pillow princess / submissive / dominant / switch / brat / baby girl or baby boy / soft dom / pleasure dom / caregiver / affectionate or emotionally intimate during the act / emotionally detached during the act / playful / serious / likes to touch their partner during the act / limited touching outside of the act itself / spits / swallows / uses protection / doesn't use protection / messy / prefers cleanliness / prefers to finish on the body / prefers to finish inside partner / prefers partner to finish on the body / prefers partner to finish inside them
SOUNDS: is silent or makes little to no sounds / is very quiet / is very loud / grows in volume over time / bites hand / bites partner / bites pillow to muffle themselves / calls out partner's name / curses / growls / happy cries / fakes or exaggerates / goes nonverbal / prefers a quiet partner / prefers a loud partner / prefers a responsive partner / is turned on by dirty talk / is turned off by dirty talk
PHYSICAL ACTS OF INTIMACY: holding hands / kissing / cuddling / massages / bathing together / washing partner's hair / skin on skin contact / forehead kisses / playing under the table / playing with partner's hair / playful tickling / seeking them out in bed to hold / eye contact / reading and/or singing to your partner / being read to / napping together / couch cuddles while doing separate activities
KINKS & TURN ONS: having hands pinned / pinning partner's hands / having hair pulled / pulling partner's hair / being watched / watching their partner / voyeurism / receiving oral sex / giving oral sex / receiving penetration / giving penetration / praise kink / biting / being bitten / marking up your partner / being marked up / impact play / edging / teasing / being teased / overstimulation / using toys on partner / having toys used on them / choking / being choked / being restrained / restraining their partner / shibari / breeding kink / piss kink / worshipping their partner / being worshipped / humiliating / being humiliated / degrading / being degraded / pegging / being pegged / frotting / face sitting / dom/sub dynamics / DDLG dynamics / aftercare / anal / bdsm / light bondage / outdoor sex (only at night) / public sex / risky sex / sensory deprivation / roleplay / gentle sex / rough sex / threesomes / wax play / sensory play / knife play / blood play / caging / cbt / sounding / collars / exhibitionism / rimming / pet play / clothed or partially clothed / dressing up for partner / partner dressing up for them / size difference / daddy kink / mommy kink / master/slave dynamics
jacaerys recieved an ask : "i’m asking for your help."
Jacaerys eyes were fixated ahead at the wall while refusing to look the noble in the eye. His mother would no sooner hide him away than have him to take action. Teeth grounding tight, his jaw jutted. All he wanted was to be the heir he was supposed to be. To be righteous in all ways. Instead of acting like he was fragile and easily broken like glass. He was strong in his own right. That was how he would show his mother. "I might be at the staircase near midnight. Don't meet me there." Jace turned away to walk down the hall, but not before making eye contact with Naerys. “Certainly do not follow me after.”
HER HEART DROPS CLEAN OUT OF HER CHEST, a plea sitting half - formed on the tip of her tongue before she registers his concession. ❝ i [ . . . ] ‶ FOLLOW ″ ? ❞ she reaches for him as he turns to leave, fingers curling gentle around his arm. ❝ you speak as though you intend to come with me. ❞ she searches his eyes for the truth of it, her own growing wide once she finds it. ❝ you cannot, JACAERYS. ‘tis a fool’s errand. ❞ for the HEIR TO THE THRONE to take flight with VHAGAR’s wings darkening the clouds is too great a risk. her capture means little in the grander scheme of things — his, however, would make for a hostage situation they could ill afford.
naerys, for reasons that will likely feel self-evident, leans towards the asexual / aromantic spectrum. she’s GREYSEXUAL / GREYROMANTIC, to be precise. she doesn’t really crave that kind of intimacy, be it physical, or emotional — she never has. if she does, however, it would have progressed rather slowly, but what would that look like ?
quiet [ . . . ] a touch that lingers a moment too long, a glance held just past the point of politeness, a small gift offered without occasion. she would be content in any configuration of their time together — be it a picnic with some food she had made herself [ though i can’t promise it would taste good ], or simply the quiet of shared space : her with a book and them with whatever work they might have.
would she be possessive? I WOULD THINK SO, yes, though she might not be as forthcoming about it. her gifts would reflect this — some subtle enough to pass unnoticed, others so distinctly, unmistakably her that there would be no mistaking the hand behind them. her nails are usually kept short and neat, too, but occasionally she would grow them a little sharper, so that she might convey with actions what she can’t convey with words. for someone who doesn’t love easily, she is likely be more passionate when she does.
⚔︎ · NEITHER THE KING NOR PRINCE AEMON, THE DRAGONKNIGHT, are ( for different reasons ) particularly fond of ser baelor. and yet, while he may not have their sympathies — he has their trust [ . . . ] for whatever is necessary to protect their family, they know he will do it without fail. after all, his skills are well-known throughout the seven kingdoms ( let alone the powerful name of his sword, dawn ). more than once has the king made a cruel joke about baelor’s mistress being duty, about him thinking of honor and obedience alone in bed at night, getting off on it. baelor had taken the stab with the same stoic grace he always carried himself with. as you say, your grace. the king’s laugh echoes in his mind like the screech of a beast.
seeing her cry pierces a blade deep into his chest. he helps her up; large, gloved hand searching and finding her much smaller, paler one, using just enough strength and force to put her back on her feet without imposing himself on her. as soon as she stands rather securely once more, he withdraws his hand as if the contact burned his skin through the leather. the bruise on her cheek is a landscape of violet and red upon flawless skin. the knife in his heart twists, and he is bleeding out on the red keep’s hallways. he longs to wrap his arms around her and tell her that she is stronger than people give her credit for, that he admires her not for her beauty, but for the steel and kindness underneath. he longs to kiss the bruise, every day, until it fades.
he does not.
❝ as you wish, my queen ❞, he nods, the tremor in his voice betraying him. never would he want to make things harder for her than they already are. if she wishes for him to stay silent, then so he will remain. ❝ i do not see you as such ❞, clarification made after swallowing two times, adam’s apple bobbing. ❝ i see you as a flower that survives even the harshest of winters ❞, he goes on, unknowingly using the metaphor out of his poem — the very one he, foolishly, left for her to find. ❝ magnificent to look at, but far less fragile than most would assume. its true beauty lies in its endurance. its willingness to wait for the light — because no matter how dark it gets, the sun always returns. ❞ a tear traces its path down the knight’s cheek, bottom lip trembling before he hastily tries to wipe the wetness away as one would a spot of dust. he clears his throat, smiling wearily. ❝ do you wish for me to accompany you back to your own chambers, your grace? ❞
» A FLOWER THAT SURVIVES EVEN THE HARSHEST OF WINTERS. « ‘tis a line she has come to know by heart, from a poem she had stumbled upon some weeks past. tucked under one of the cushions by a window alcove overlooking the blackwater bay, it sat in one of the keep’s more secluded corners, where the young queen had taken to retreating to whenever she felt the urge to play a tune. she had known right away, then — could tell from the tidiness of the script and the loveliness of the sentiment both : ‘tis the work of HER BELOVED KNIGHT. she had meant to return it, of course — to hide it, so that it might find its way into the hands of the lady it had been written for [ . . . ] and yet, come evening, she had pressed it to her chest and ASKED THE GODS TO FORGIVE HER FOR IT — to allow her this one thing. but [ . . . ] ❝ am i ? ❞
the poem [ . . . ] was it not for the woman he longed for ? who ‶ has inspired most of [ his ] poetry ″ ? she looks away, pressing her nails into the soft of her arm without quite meaning to. ❝ that is kind of you to say. ❞ cruel, too, she thinks, to hold her against a woman she could never hope to measure herself by. still, the ache of her bruise is fading, and though fresh tears prick at her eyes, the one that spills from his softens her expression. ❝ MAY THE SUN RISE UPON US BOTH. ❞ she holds her handkerchief out to him then, urging him to take it with that weak little smile of hers. ❝ i fear i made rather a mess of the embroidery. ❞ ‘TIS A LIE, of course, but easier by far to let him think she wishes to be rid of it. she moves past him then, turning in the direction of her chambers, her pace slow enough that he might find HIS PLACE BESIDE HER.
thankfully, the corridor sits empty around them. aegon had made a habit of dismissing the workers on the evenings she would be made to serve him [ . . . ] ‶ SERVE HIM. ″ she knows him well enough to know he intends to find his pleasure in the arms of another woman, and yet [ . . . ] arms folding tight around herself, she turns to the other. ❝ i know your time is not easily spared [ . . . ] but i would be most grateful if you could stand guard tonight SO THAT I MIGHT SLEEP. ❞ indeed, ‘tis childish, but the thought of waking to find her brother looming over her in the dead of night fills her with a sense of dread she cannot reason away. ❝ i have no fault to find with the other guards, but i [ . . . ] well, i — I FEEL SAFE WITH NONE BUT YOU. ❞
