⊱ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐒 ──── princess born to grandeur yet plague with isolation. a gentle creature who faces madness with kindness. a melody played on broken strings. unburnt softness. haunted by what once was & what will be. blood of the dragon.
private, selective, mutuals only, 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 rp blog from 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆 by g.r.r.m.
❛❛ Let me not then die ingloriously & without a struggle, but let me first do some great thing that shall be told among men hereafter. ❜❜
rhaella did raise daeron and taught him the targaryen history and how to ride his dragon while she was riding silverwing 🥺 the targaryen son she never had
After many years of King Viserys I & Queen Aemma' struggle in conceiving a child, Rhaella was born on a beautiful autumn morning of the tenth moon of 100 AC. Although she wasn't the Realm's Delight, she was still highly regarded as princess of the Realm. Rhaella was only five years of age where she had lost her mother & brother.
As Rhaenyra started her journey as their father's heir & Princess of Dragonstone, Rhaella would begin her duties as the Princess Royal. She took her lessons seriously, excelled well in High Valyrian, painting, & the pedal harp. She was studious yet lively, perhaps too much so. The halls of the Red Keep were never too heavy with death and duty, not when the princess' laughter could be heard throughout. She smiled too brightly, too frequently & was quick to laugh.
When King Viserys married the Lady Alicent Hightower ; Rhaella held no strong feelings regarding the decision. She had grown a few years, learning the sacrifice of duty but was too young to feel the scorn of betrayal of a child who lost their mother. So, her relationship with her new step-mother Alicent always remained one of mutual respect. When Aegon, Aemond & Helaena were born, Rhaella was excited to have a larger family. Her crown, unlike her sister's, did not feel threatened upon their births.
Rhaella had been without a dragon, the deep blue egg placed in her crib never hatch. There were feelings of envy of her sister, Rhaenyra, being a dragonrider, but not herself. In the year 111 AC, Rhaella fled to Dragonstone & returned to King's Landing on the back of Silverwing. Less time were taken to her studies & more towards the skies. Rhaella flew overhead the Crownlands & the Blackwater Bay every single day for seven moons straight. When she landed one day in the Stormlands ; it was rumoured that the princess had fallen in love with a lowborn knight.
When Rhaenyra took possession over Dragonstone in 113 AC, & men fought for her hand & favour ; Rhaella was far away in Highgarden. The purpose was to attend Lady Tyrell's nameday tourney as a royal guest & personal friend. There, Rhaella was declared the Queen of Love & Beauty by Ormund Hightower. With the King's approval, & later remorse for shaming House Hightower in Otto's dismissal, the betrothal was accepted between Rhaella & Ormund.
In the year 114 AC, Rhaella was present during Rhaenyra's wedding to Ser Laenor Velaryon — with Ormund at her side. She had spent her time with him at the grand table amongst her family. It was speculated that the betrothed couple had left the gathering early & were not seen until late afternoon the next day. The following year in 115 AC, in a smaller & less extravagant ceremony, Rhaella & Ormund married in the Great Sept in King's Landing. While her husband returned to Oldtown on horseback, Rhaella stayed in the Capital for a few more days to spend her last few days with her beloved sister, Rhaenyra, half-siblings & father. Then, she flew with Silverwing to meet Ormund to start her duties as Lady Hightower.
For the first year of marriage, Rhaella struggled with the Faith & prayers. There was a difference in culture, but given the her values towards duty, she conformed to her new lifestyle as best as she could. Though, her Targaryen blood remained as she often rode Silverwing. Between the years of 116 AC to 127 AC, Rhaella & Ormund had six healthy children together, but not without their loses. In a bittersweet sense, Rhaella was able to give Lord Hightower five healthy baby boys & one little girl. Like her ancestors & much to her husband's dismay, she rode on her dragon with her babies ; to give them a life she knows they will never have as being half — Targaryen. As the rift between the Black & Green factions grew, Rhaella found herself increasingly restless.
In the later months of 128 AC, Rhaella had become pregnant. It wasn't until in early 129 AC where Rhaella had received news of her father's passing, Aegon's coronation & then the death of Lucerys. All these events, in such quick succession, sent Rhaella into distress. A letter was delivered to Lady Hightower with the Black Targaryen seal. The contents of the letter was a command from the King Consort that Rhaella should choose sides & fight for the Queen Rhaenyra I Targaryen on Silverwing. With much stress & grief taking a toll on her already weakened and fragile pregnancy, Rhaella went into labour prematurely . . . she did not survive the birth of her last child.
Silverwing flew back to Dragonstone following her death.
yes, rhaella is that kind of queen where u can't dress better than her or take the attention from her : ) she will have servants demand sb to dress down or more plainly
remember rhaella is either a princess or queen so pls call her either ‘princess’ or ‘your grace’ and even in verses where she married a lord, her princess title will outweigh her lady title : )
The dragon rears it's head towards clutch, sweet smile upon maw faltering. Little privacy was ever granted to the Crown, even here. Targaryen tent hosting royal guests & yet — in truth, they are still titles ; still needing to remain guarded. Truth & self must be secondary to duty. ❛❛ I fail to uphold such promise, brother, ❜❜ there was a practiced smile, too tight to be genuine. ❛❛ Alas, may the Warrior give strength to your sword arm. ❜❜ Surely, amongst men & horses, the princess was an anomaly ; so tenderly out of place in the world. Talons trailed over ridges of helm, eyes downcast to look upon the crown. In the silent air consuming kin, the princess clung armour to breast. Wings gripped tightly that arms trembled from force ; it was if letting go would mean that dreams become reality . . . but, dreamers learned long ago that fate comes for us all — they are simply plagued to witness inevitable.
It haunted the dragon to lay helm — to be taken by the next ; surely it was accursed. To lilac hues, it stood out, unkindly . . . it was unbearable. Turning, skirts danced around form as Rhaella soared toward exit only to fall still at Valarr's words. Dread lived in throat, hand moved to chest — fingers trailing along throat before peering over shoulder. Certainly not . . . certainly he did not speak of dragons to her. That would be a cruelty. Straightening again, hiding gaze away from him, the princess spoke bitterly, with anguish. ❛❛ Why do you wonder of such things? ❜❜ She asked with slight disgust ; of misunderstanding. How could one describe the anguish that ached in her bones at the mention of dragons? Hypocrisy coated words, the softness of her voice was like the final garnish. Often, she spoke of dragons — to her own volition. A puff of ash left painted lips before facing kin. In four paces, she reached for his hands that were covered in obsidian armour, ❛❛ perhaps, we would not be fools clutching to former glory. We would simple be glorious. ❜❜ The truth remained. Her confession. An apology — a proper answer.
Blood of Old Valyria sat perched upon iron chair decorated in draconic shapes and coils. Ancient eyes remained downcast ─ & yet, closed to the world around her ; her own silence made her deaf to the voice nearby. Talons gripped into the iron armrests of the chair, anchoring ─ hurting. Dragon breath came in and out in such harshness, the princess felt breast press against her gown . . . it was suffocating, she just wanted to rip it off her skin. The ringing in ears morphed into the haunting cries or agony ; Summerhall. The dragon flew up from her seat suddenly, the chair tipping backwards with a BANG! The sound startled herself before she began pacing the room ─ trapped & chained.
If the dragon could breath fire, it would've consumed her ; ash left her maw. ❛❛ You will never know! ❜❜ Will anyone know what plagues her soul . . . the burden she carries? ❛❛ Do not dare ask such things! ❜❜ Outburst directed towards Kira, at no one . . . at everything. Her own survival. Hands braced against standing mirror. Rhaella wanted to knock it over! To watch glass shards spill upon the ground ; broken, like her. Crown hung low as shoulders began trembling from choked sobs. Then, the dragon staggered and fell upon knees. Curling into herself, Rhaella wept ─ terrible, agonising wails. Now a woman in all regards, from first blood to childbirth & yet . . . she was just a girl. ❛❛ What have I done? What have I done to the Gods to haunt me with life without mine own kin? ❜❜
