The most interesting to me is the part where Ryan Condal says “if you presume that that is Daeron’s actual hair color” because it plays closer to my hc that Daeron is actually blonde and Ormund dyed his hair red out of spite for everything Valyrian…
If Ryan had a brain and wanted to make the show even more interesting he would give us the twist and make Daeron’s red hair actually be a red herring…
As much as people like to give everything an outer Maester propaganda angle, not everything in the book is maester propaganda. In fact, there is a clear Daemon bias in fire & blood. Like or not, Rhaenyra is unfortunately very incompetent and that writing is on GRRM. Her writing leaves much to be desired as a protagonist. To some extent, I understand Ryan and Sara trying to give her more active badass moments in war that she never had from GRRM. But R&S ended up botching it. Not just Rhaenyra but almost every other character in the show is a caricature. However book rhaenyra had realistic faults and written to be not very heroic. She was no Visenya or Daenerys and I think that is where show writers had to make a compromise. Book rhaenyra if adapted word for word would not have inspired fans because she is a flawed character. Therefore to make her more palatable to the general audience she was lent better qualities from other Targ women to make her more herolike than GRRM ever made her to be.
Define "hero". Morally good (Christian-developed), or impressive (Greek and Roman tragedy)?
GRRM'S WRITING//Rhaenyra's Character//WOMEN AT LARGE
Yeah, GRRM left much of the strategizing to the men around her and left her to her grief for the most part. Yeah, when she got herself into a more responsive state she didn't bust out chess moves or to rival Robb Starks or something out of both grief from her kids being monstrously killed. Yes, like other rulers her classism and likely racism got her to make one of the worst choices concerning the Seeds. Could she have done what Jaehaerys I did and tax luxury items against rich and nobles instead of other people--yes. Should she have given the Rosby and Stokeworth girls' inheritances and positions to men, obviously not.
However, Rhaenyra of the bk, IS a more active character than show!Rhaenyra, who gives a lot of looks at the camera but fail to really follow through [REFER TO THIS SUBSTACK ARTICLE, I RE-PUBLISHED IT HERE ON TUMBLR]....or maybe it is that we don't really stay on her as much as we should and the show itself still gravitates towards the surrounding men. I think it's both (look below at the quote).
Anyway, GRRM does write a suggestively active woman despite those flaws. Rhaenyra does get up within her emotional means, does retake KL, does rule, does endeavour to go back and retake the throne, does consult with her councilors, does seek revenge and try to create order. She also happened to be stuck on Dragonstone by Visery's order, leaving Alicent the opporuntity to take the throne as quickly as she did. Like that Substack writer reminds me, Rhaenyra knew much and prepared herself for death...so why did Condal not include that she was told by her king to stay far (enough) away from court when it wasn't a good time for her to stay away?
A central point of the original story was to show the degradation of certain individuals of such a system and how it comes for who gets to wield power, no matter how competent they are they always somehow lose something essential. (Yes, even Jaehaerys who loses the love Alysanne had at the beginning and most of his children to die relatively alone except for a daughter of a power-hungry man with mixed-intent). And Rhaenyra's degradation, like other women and even some men in the original stories, is through their kids (again, Jaehaerys I but also Tywin and Randall Tarly) and the love or lack of such they have for them.
It's not just Targs eating each other, it's this patriarchy creating competition between relatives in general and punishing its actors (like Tyrion) for choosing or reflexively pushing back. A prevalent theme in this entire series. (Which goes to show that GRRM was right in wanting to start the series not with Viserys being chosen as heir, but with Baelon and Aemon. If we're just going by this post, we would have needed the context. A show fault.)
AND None of GRRM's 80s/90s-early 2000s sexist flaws, I think, should then turn into writing a 2025 version of misogynistic writing where the female protagonist becomes a morally model woman trying to lead seemingly-naturally violent men and dull her rage (the main criticism lobbied against Condal in how he chose to rewrite Rhaenyra, which ultimately confused even him. F for effort). His writing, whatever it may be, does not make Condal's better nor acceptable. It actually highlights the sexism we're given in the show and were told is "better" bc Rhaenyra appears to be a human woman just bc she is more "palatable". Condal had the option of assigning more to Rhaenyra in S1; why did he choose to make her indecisive, wavering, as cself-serving as she was while still showing her grit? Why is a "palatable" woman one who isn't rageful about being jilted of her power?
Why does a HUMAN need to be palatable when the story is about HUMANS?!
This story was about a human woman with many flaws who didn't lose just bc she couldn't "man up" or bc she was written to lay in her grief more. Especially when we know that she was ruling Dragonstone fairly okay or well and there have never been any concerns or reports of Daemon trying to overpower her authority there. So we should know she isn't completely incompetent, as many try to suggest or outright say.
It appears to me that by your argument, we shouldn't see adapted into TV anything about Rhaena the BB, who a lot of readers unfairly and wrongly hated upon reading in the first couple times they read about her. This woman who didn't really strategize or fight in much battle and also drove her own daughter away with her own traumas? Who couldn't completely rescue her daughters from her uncle Maegor and was forced to marry him? Who was ignored by her entire family when she gave warning about certain people? But a few readers say that she had amazing qualities, and it was just that she was basically trapped...wasn't Rhaenyra, in her own way? Maybe GRRM is trying to write about another Targ woman trapped but in a different way? By the time Rhaena was considered to become queen in councils of lords, she herself said that she couldn't go through it and just wanted to isolate herself from everyone else. Rhaena is different from Rhaenyra--she chose to try to leave it behind and Rhaenyra tried to fight, and BOTH end up devastated by a system anyway. I'd say
Yeah, these women are different people (part fo the point), but both of what one could qualify as "heroism" escapes a lot of people. What is "heroic" in question here, I have to ask, again. I think we really need to challenge what makes for a "worthy" protagonist to root for; do they ALWAYS HAVE TO BE OBVIOUSLY "COOL" or SMART AND CLEVER--perhaps we're meant to accept that victims don't need to be perfect and question how/why it's not just their actions that lead to disaster? Maybe we are supposed to sit with lead in our chest as we watch who was meant to rise as a kind of hero become abject under circumstances that weren't whoolly of her own doing?
Is it possible that much of the problems with Rhaenyra's story is the seeming lack of clarity of fault, when it's both a conspiracy happening (below) AND some actions responding to that concerted effort to stop her rise? Where does the one begin, the other end and where do they take turns? Or is the overlap the point?
AND none of this, I think, should ever be re-written to inspire watchers with mishandled re-characterizations that only end with misunderstanding of what the Dance teaches big-picture wise (referring to what I wrote below concerning the maesters' relationship with the Targs) and reading cross-textually. Women come in different forms and shapes, why? Because they are human.
LATER BOOKS (Canon-time-wise) AND CROSS READING
To comment further on your comment about the Maester propaganda theory: if I am remembering correctly, said theory originated from people remembering -- Marwyn saying that the maesters are totally against magic and anything that would possibly diminish their authority through the Faith--remembering Archmaester Aemon saying that it has to be a maester who goes to Dany to advise her, someone who is trustworthy -- and RE-examining what happened at the Storming and looking back from there to the dragons that existed before the Dance + the unfortunate reproductive struggles Targ women had since -- specifically how strange Syrax acted after Joffrey tried to ride her (dragons don't go ballistic for long periods of time just bc someone other than their bonded rider tried to ride them).
....then the idea that the maesters poisoned the dragons along with sending that mysterious Shepherd (remember the text itself states and makes as if he ight have come from the Citadel or just that his presence was strange and almost too good to be coincidental, what with his eloquent fervor)...If we are to understand through Archmaester Marwyn (A Feast for Crows, final chapter) that the Citadel purposely poisoned or harmed or did something to the dragons some time ago...what is the likeliest point of history that we can see the dragons acted weird? The Dance, the Storming.
And that theory comes from/developed into the theory that the Targs "forgot" that healthy human women = strong dragon numbers but they put that aside to assimilate into Andal-FM aristocratic patriarchy.
So it seems to me that "not everything in the book is maester propaganda" is both correct (like how Aegon III's siege was told isn't "propaganda" at all) but when it comes to Rhaenyra and how the dragons were killed...it's really not as simple was "propaganda". I truly believe that there has been a strong conspiracy, something much more than propaganda, made against the Targs. Even when Aegon II brutally and publicly killed multiple people during his short reign, the writer of the text describes his posioning as if were a melancholic tragedy while Rhaenyra's murder is more...incidental and consequential chaotic event.
The kinda-likely conspiracy reveals itself through a bias baked into this text, of which the show mirrors instead of reveal. A good mutual (mononijikayu) I have said this [or use this LINK]:
What’s most disheartening is that House of the Dragon had, at its foundation, the raw material for a genuinely feminist tragedy. Not one defined by hollow girlboss aesthetics or sanitized empowerment arcs, but a brutal, emotionally rich story about a woman born into a system designed to destroy her.
Rhaenyra’s arc in Fire & Blood is not about being flawless, nor is it about easy victories. It is about endurance. About the slow, devastating erosion of a woman’s power, not because she was weak, but because the world would not allow her to be strong on her own terms. Her tragedy is not that she failed, but that she was never allowed to be fully human: ambitious, flawed, grieving, angry and still worthy of the crown.
The story of Rhaenyra is one of resistance: a woman hemmed in by expectations, reduced by rumors, slandered for her sexuality, scrutinized for her body, and eventually broken by a society that demanded either perfection or silence from its women.
Her power was conditional. Her motherhood weaponized her. Her grief, politicized. She is not a tragic heroine because of her own moral collapse, but because no matter how hard she fought, no matter how much legitimacy she held, the weight of patriarchal tradition was always heavier.
And yet, the show resists this reading. Rather than lean into the complexity of female rage, such as Rhaenyra’s seething anger at her usurpation, the fury of a mother who has lost child after child, the righteous violence of a woman tired of appeasing a world that will not bend. The series sands down those edges.
It reduces her to silence, softness, and strategic restraint. Her pain is aestheticized, her decisions dulled. She becomes not a fire, she is not the dragon, but a symbol of how patriarchy views a woman, how they want a woman to be.
AND
To define the “male gaze” is to understand it not merely as the act of looking, but as a system of storytelling that positions women as objects rather than agents. As characters whose primary function is to reflect or provoke male emotion, desire, or violence.
The male gaze dictates not just what is shown on screen, but how it is shown: who gets interiority, who is allowed complexity, and whose suffering matters [note how the original book does the same?! Why didn't the show take it somewhere else?]. In the case of House of the Dragon, the male gaze insidiously shapes the portrayal of Rhaenyra Targaryen, despite the show’s premise being centered on her fight for legitimacy in a deeply misogynistic world.
While House of the Dragon appears on the surface to champion a feminist narrative, which to some degree is true, as the plot points are still hit, it doesn’t understand how to tell a story that understands the underlying crux of the story.
Rhaenyra is named heir, challenges gender roles, and occupies the symbolic center of the Dance of the Dragons yet this framing is ultimately superficial. Everything is somehow taken away from Rhaenyra.
The deeper narrative attention consistently drifts toward the men around her: Daemon’s volatile moods are explored with nuance and sympathy; Viserys’ failures are treated as tragic rather than negligent;
[...]
The storytelling undermines her claim not just to the throne, but to emotional authority in her own tale. Her grief over the deaths of her children is given fleeting moments, while Daemon’s brooding, Aegon’s volatility, and Aemond’s trauma receive extended screen time and richer cinematographic treatment. This is not a coincidence, of course. It is a re-centering of the male gaze.
[...]
Alicent Hightower is not merely a mother; she is a power broker who plays the court with ruthless precision, leveraging her femininity, religion, and family status to shape the realm. But in the show, she is rewritten through a softer, more palatable frame.
In the show, she is a woman coerced by her father, motivated by fear, and victimized by circumstance. Her ambition is made sympathetic by aligning it with “maternal duty” rather than self-driven power, once again sanitizing a woman’s desire to rule in a way that appeals to patriarchal comfort.
She is not allowed to be vicious or Machiavellian without apology
[...]
This failure to grant Rhaenyra and Alicent the sharpness, ugliness, and command they wield in Fire & Blood reveals how deeply the male gaze has shaped the adaptation, not just in what is shown, but in whose pain matters, and whose story is truly being told.
Even against this guy who I don't think the maesters "liked" either, but thought he'd be better simply bc he was male and the Targs allowing a female ruler to become a reigning queen over men would go towards disaster. That their order (Faith-based feudal patriarchy)is both in danger from such an upheaval AND must continue to exist.
Later on, during Aegon III's reign not a small amount of time later, we hear Grand Maester Munkun say it is disastrous from one of the advisors concerning Baela's marriage. Who chooses the GM? Not any of the lords nor the king; it's traditional and customary that it's the maesters, specifically those in the highest stations at the Citadel.
There were concerted efforts not just from maesters and lords (men) but a few other women actively or passively working against her using the powers their station gave them. We have two things happening at once here.
Therefore, to me, anon, if there is a years-long conspiracy happening (and the main texts are leading us towards that) AND seeing as Rhaena the BB's dragon Dreamfyre laid Dany's eggs for her to hatch (again, the constant turns of Targ female reproduction and here culminating into Dany's successful and miraculous rebirth of dragons through magic--the thing the maesters canonically both hate and are trying to control and consolidate into their own mainstream)...it appears Rhaenyra's story is not just about a mundane power struggle between nobles amped up a little bit by the presence of war-dragons at the sides' disposal...but part of a larger tale of multidimensional levels of CONTROLLING perspective and perception. Prophecy did matter in F&B/the Dance, just not in the superficial way Condal and co tried through the inheritance of daggers or whatever.
IF such is happening....it cannot be ALL Rhaenyra, which is clear even without such a theory bc the greens have done much to disable her even after they fled ON TOP OF usurping her.
I actually have many posts abt Rhaenyra's reign, one of which I am reminded of her possible parallel to Othello. Yeah, Othello was a general who got a lot of respect...still, he was also a constant pressure to perform well or become utterly abject by the Italians and he was still subtly/unsubtly even before he even enters the stage.
There's probs so much I want to say, but can't think of right now. I've written multiple posts about this already.
Recalling the cadence of one’s footsteps is said to be an indication of love. That the pattern could engrave itself into memory. Aegon feels that it is more of a conditioning, a twisted instinct of being called to heel.
Aemond’s steps were light, unassuming, something coiled and ready to strike. Aegon had been abed since dusk, in and out of a restless sleep. He could vaguely register the sound of blades being unsheathed and leather hitting the floor.
“It’s late…” Aegon murmured, muffled by the pillows beneath. He didn’t bother to open his eyes, the pull towards unconsciousness was heavy.
“Mmm…” was all he earned in response. Rough day then. Aegon felt his stomach clench in a way that was instinctive.
The bed dipped with newfound weight, a slight rustle of the silk. As calloused hands found his calfs, thumbs massaging into the muscle. It was gentle, masked with a tenderness one might mistake as kind gesture. With one swift pull Aegon’s bare skin was exposed, sheets abandoned.
“No-“ Aegon hissed lowly, too drowsy to lift himself. “I’m sleeping, it’s cold Aemond…” all came out jumbled, a characteristic whine lacing his tone. A low scoff met him in response. With a yelp of protest he was pulled with little effort, chest against the mattress, back arched in a slight stretch.
“Sleep then.” Aemond rumbled in response, gripping harshly at Aegon’s thighs. A low hiss filled the room as Aemond spread him open, exposing him fully. A soft string of Valyrian praises were murmured as fingers toyed with his rim. Aegon’s ears burned, feeling like an altar Aemond chose to kneel at.
The tip of Aemond’s middle finger pushed in with a filthy squelch. Wet.
“Greedy.” Aemond seethed. Smack. A red handprint now adorning Aegon’s upper thigh. The sound echoing throughout the room.
“Ah!” Aegon exclaimed, violently pulled from his drowsy state. Teeth digging into his bottom lip as he blindly reached for the headboard to steady himself.
“It was late, you were still occupied, it was only my fin-“ he was cut off by the feeling of Aemond’s cock bottoming out inside of him.
The scream he let out was nearly silent, air leaving his lungs. He would have fallen into the mattress had it not been for the firm grip around his throat. “Too much-“ he tried to rasp, cut off by a tightening around his throat.
“Insatiable fucking cunt…” Aemond grunted as he sat a brutal pace, the wooden frame of the bed cracking against stone repeatedly. Aegon couldn’t breathe. Vision darkening at the edges for several moments. Too big. Too much. Yet so dizzying, making him nearly feral for it.
“F-fuck Gods, ah, A-Aemond please-“ Pathetic attempts at begging, tears beginning to brim his eyes. A large hand clasped over his own, settling over his stomach. Grounding him for a few moments.
“Feel that?” Aemond hummed in his ear, pressing his hand down forcefully. The outline of his cock visible in Aegon’s abdomen. “This cunt was made for me.” It was a warning as much as a reminder.
Aegon wouldn’t find this in a brothel. Or with another. Not even from his own hands. Only his brother could reduce him to this.
Gods I have so many ideas for fics. Some I currently write on, some just cannot leave my head the way I want it to leave. The worst part of all is when you wrote a fic and after your first proof reading you are like: That is shit nobody will like this. Then I either end up deleting it or let it rot in my drafts for months.
Please tell me I am not the only one that has this problem?
Upcoming Stark!Reader showing why she was a great option as a betrothed to Jacaerys Velaryon and why her spot in Rhaenyra's small council is justified.
Once again implied Jacaerys Velaryon x Stark!Reader, and Stark!Reader pulling her weight in the small council because she gotta keep her game up for her future mother-in-law.
------------
"Well- most… battles lately have been on the sea… that is the expertise of Lord Corlys Velaryon and perhaps, of course- only if they share any sort of knowledge, other Velaryon descendants may be familiar with. I… am not. Folklore tales and stories of the sea aren't exactly… practical in an actual battle in the salty water. Nor are the methods used by pirates to deal with traitors of any help in something such as open warfare."
"Warfare in the history of the north is… different, my queen. I've tried to make myself familiar with the library of this palace, seek out different strategies… but each time it feels- unfit. Yes, wars have been fought before, no doubt. Yes, some ideas I was able to extract and convert or apply to our current times, but not all are flexible ideas. This is a war of dragons. They are the most prized possession while also being the most powerful weapon. Putting them out would be an act of desperation, not putting them out at all would be a disadvantage. At the end of the day, all the losses will accumulate. Any harm we do now may also be ours to solve after the war ends when we come out of it victorious. The damages, the lost people, the lost resources, it will fall on the shoulders of whoever sits on the throne."
"All I can think of are the old tricks in the book which I am not sure can even be used without losing. Camps moving under the cover of the night, ambush in the swamps, ambush in crosses in the mountains. Yes, I am aware how everything is practically an ambush, blame my ancestors, House Stark had to form itself before being a big and great house before Aegon the conqueror, and until then we were nothing but civilized barbarians and savages, most likely anybody else really."
"Unless your highness has a way of making sirens and mermaids real to mess with the masses' moral and sanity then I am not sure what we could-…" And she went quiet. Lady Stark's abrupt silence often meant something anew sparked within her mind. "We could." Lady Stark said with a frown.
-
"How… often does fog rise up on the sea? Is it dependent on the season or just the weather?" Lasy Stark asked while looking around in the council room. She was mainly looking at Addam of Hull. "And… how… frequent would fogs be in this time of the year?" She paused between her words briefly to ponder on the idea that was forming in her mind. "And would this fog be thick enough so that a man from a ship cannot see even ten feet in front of him?"
-
Lady Stark stayed quiet for a while. "Decoys." She said while looking at the map. "Fog, a small boat, a sailor to be able to handle the boat, the paddling and all that, and a proper singer on it, must be female. Water propagates sound, the fog messes with the vision- We could have decoy makeshift sirens to mess with the enemy troops."
"And we don't have to do much. Just ensure their mind goes fuzzy. Let's see how long it takes before they run their ship into sharp rocks in the madness of trying to escape, and let's see how quickly and stealthily our own men can make their way towards the enemy boat unnoticed and conquer it. If we got our hands on one singular ship of theirs, without raising concern, without raising it as missing, doing it in the middle of the night in the open sea, and then approaching other enemy boats with it, they won't even expect our men to be on it. They'd think something had happened, the reason why the ship is approaching, and they wouldn't raise their weapons immediately. The cover of the night, fog, madness, and some very skilled individuals. The sheer terror will be enough to make them back away or dare force them to bring a dragon to the battle, and I'd just dread, if some heavy old green oversized lizard would fly just too low and hit itself in a ship and end up drowning. Vhagar is great for a battle in the sky, but its weight and speed aren't enough to be as precise, and you must approach at least slightly in order to burn a ship."
"Let them think it's a curse. Let them feel the conscience of their actions seep into their bones, and let them simmer to a boil until they jump out of those damned ships themselves to escape the cries and wails of the innocent souls they deprived us of. We're not putting singers out there. We're putting proper actors. Sing beautifully once, scream in anger the next day, follow it up with wailing, and change the order randomly. Maniac laughs, vengeful cries. Let them go mad with the idea that all that we lost at sea, their own men alike, became little feasts for the 'sirens' to enjoy. And they wait idly, keeping themselves company with their voice, waiting to pray on them too."
-
"Better yet, have them kill each other. One mermaid as a distraction, and while the crew is busy trying to cover their ears or marvel on board, just have to cover their ears or marvel on board, just have one stealthy proper man sneak in and change the flag to ours while nobody is present. When light hits I doubt they'll notice their flag had been changed before one of their ally ships attacks them full force and kills a couple of men before the mistake is rectified. It's not like the sailors from all these boats know one another personally to be able to recognize the crew as being on their side and not ours."
-
"Well. I'm great at imagining theory, but not at doing the practical work, the biggest flaw in each of my plans. Those who have more expertise in naval warfare, feel free to correct me." She said while sitting down and taking her marble back. "The principal is simple. We spread fear, curses, and paranoia on their side and let it take its toll."
HotD feels like it’s written with only the chunk of pages they’re going to adapt infront of them and not the whole book.
They don’t take into account what will happen, only what is happening right now.
This seems why Daeron and Maelor are not in the show yet, they don’t seem to do much in the sections of the book that have been adapted but that set up is needed for good pay off in the future.
It’s also why I think Jace and Jeoffrey are being ignored by the story because they didn’t think to add their character arc building up to their ends
I know that this is probably going to sound a little insensitive, but I think that the HOTD actors should just not talk about the book when they're clearly talking about the show's version of events. I read an interview that Emma and Olivia took after the finale, and I cannot even tell you how big my eyes got at some of the stuff being said at the end of the article.
Like, have we learned nothing? How many times does it have to be said? Fire and Blood cannot be a form of Targaryen propaganda when it was actively written during the reign of Robert Baratheon when even talking about the Targaryens was considered akin to being forbidden. A book written by the maesters of the Citadel, an institution that has served Alicent's house for decades, who tries to find every way possible to somehow blame Alicent's misgivings to Rhaenyra, is in no way shape or form Targaryen propaganda. Yes, many times, Alicent is not excused for the same misogyny that Rhaenyra is put under, but these two women suffer from it on two very different levels, and it's not even comparable. Not even once is Alicent determined by who she is because of her gender or her genitalia the way Rhaenyra is, not just by the characters but by the many people depicting the accounts of the dance. How many times is Alicent called names in the book? How many times has she been undermined because of her gender? How many times has she been slandered for her character because of her gender? I'll tell you. None. Not even once. The cast has taken the script to be their Bible. there's a vast difference between the scripts and the book and obv the cast would want to align themselves with the script given their involvement in the show, but I just wish they would stop trying to gaslight me into believing that the show's changes have been done for a good reason and that they had the solid grounds to do so when they didn't. It's also very garing that those among them who have read the book, like Bethany Antonia,who plays Baela, and Steve Toussaint, who plays Corlys, have talked about wanting for more book's accurate scenes for their characters and being denied and laughed at by Ryan Condal, who shamelessly told them 'don't expect anything'. I really wonder if they're even going to have these sort of opinions when S3 drops, knowing now that GRR and Ryan Condal are not on good terms anymore.
summary: the love you bore your mother is what prompted you to agree to the duty of marrying your uncle. the duty aegon bore to the crown and to his family is what forced him to agree to marry his niece. it would never be a marriage of love, but always a marriage of duty.
pairing: aegon ii targaryen x f!reader
note: there is literally no canon in this at all. aegon is genuinely not nice in this, but he's also terrified sooo. let me know what you think!! and if you want a part 2 <3
word count: 2.8k
They say, oftentimes, that a sense of duty can be found in an action of love.
What they often forget to mention is that a sense of love can oftentimes be the catalyst for unwanted, but wholly necessary actions of duty.
The Conquerors Crown, the magnificent piece of Valyrian steel that once sat on the white hair of Aegon the Conqueror, now rested atop the head of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, the first of her name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. The Realm’s Delight truly looked the part as she stood in front of those kneeling in front of her. The cries of joy were electrified, the roars of the dragons flying through the sky rumbled the floor below.
The history books would say it was a sight. The Greens kneeling alongside their niece and nephews, their swords promised to their half-sister and the woman their grandfather had sworn to defeat in hopes of his own blood sitting the throne.
Although, said grandfather’s head was rumoured to have been a favoured treat for the notorious Blood Wyrm. So, it seemed to many that his years of hidden treason had been for naught. Others would say it differently.
There were many things that prevented the Dance of the Dragons. The Blacks never left Kings Landing after the family dinner King Viserys I had orchestrated the night he met the Stranger. Ser Otto Hightower met the Stranger just hours later while his daughter begged for the life of her children to be spared, her knees pressed to the ground as she begged her childhood friend to remember that her children were the Queen’s own kin.
Instead of responding to the accusations that she would willingly slay her own kin, Queen Rhaenyra no sooner announced the betrothal of her eldest child, her only daughter, to the eldest child of Alicent Hightowner and King Viserys I, Aegon Targaryen.
Their marriage would dispel all the concerns of potential kinslaying, the Blacks and Greens would be united. One day, the grandchild of Queen Rhaenyra and Dowager Queen Alicent would sit the Iron Throne.
The tears had slid silently down your cheeks in the comfort of your own chambers after the news was brought forth. The Queen, your mother, had gripped your hands so tightly as she looked at you silently, awaiting your confirmation that you would do your duty to her, to the realm.
Trying to keep the tears at bay as you nodded your head towards your mother, willing yourself to speak. “I will do my duty, my Queen. Not because I wish to, but out of the love I bear for you, for my mother, for my brothers... and for the future of this realm.”
“This was not the life I ever wished for you, my heart. I would have seen you travel the world on dragonback like you always so wished. See the great wonders across the Narrow Sea and eat only cake. Perhaps one day, you will still.” The devastation in her words was evident in your mother’s features as she placed a gentle kiss against your forehead.
Aegon was... Aegon. He was a selfish drunkard, his endeavors in the Street of Silk well known by the small white-haired bastards that found themselves paraded through the streets by their mothers, by those wishing to gain a favour with the Royal family.
You knew your duty; you had accepted that the love you had for your mother would one day be the push for necessary but unwanted duty.
--------------
The wine dribbled down his chin as he tried to contain his guffaws, his stomach hurting as he bent forward in an attempt to contain himself.
“This is no laughing matter, Aegon! This is our saving grace, the protection you and your siblings needed. You will do your duty as your sister; the Queen has demanded.” Aegon quirked an eyebrow towards his mother as he pressed the sheet closer to his bare stomach, the wine staining the white sheets a pretty purple.
“Ah yes, dear Mother. I have done everything you have ever asked; I suppose allowing myself to be a dragon dressed for slaughter will be no different. If you truly loved me, you would have allowed me to disappear on Sunfyre when you told me the news of my father’s death.”
He didn’t have time to react before Alicent’s hand connected with his cheek, his eyes closing in fear of a ring scratching his cheek as it had so many times before. Aegon could feel the involuntary tear slip down his cheek as the animosity grew in the room. Regardless of how much love he showed, his mother would never love him, no one ever would.
“You are a fool, my son. I have only ever pushed you to do your duty out of my love for you, your duty is what will keep you alive. Love will not.”
With that, the Dowager Queen turned on her heels and out of the room, her dog of a sworn shield following closely behind as the door shut tightly. Seconds later, a wine goblet splattered against the wall, Aegon’s fists tightly gripping the sheets as he felt himself fall to the bed.
There was no love in duty, of that, he was sure.
-------------
It didn’t take long for the wedding preparations to begin and be finalized. The joining of the two sects was necessary for peace in the realm, for those against the ruling of Queen Rhaenyra in favour of her half-brother Aegon Targaryen to finally be put to rest.
It took less than a full turn of the moon, to be exact. Your dress had been commissioned by your mother, it was meant to be a glorious display of the houses Velaryon and Targaryen. The sea blue and the blood red mixed well with the black undertones included, your maiden cloak a beautiful display of everything you were not, a beautiful display of a true Velaryon.
Even you could admit, despite all of this, you did look like a true Princess of Old Valyria in your wedding attire. Your husband-to-be likely did as well.
“Oh, my heart. You look beautiful,” cupping your cheeks while she spoke, your mother’s eyes reflected in your own as the unspoken words travelled amongst you. She was grateful that your love for her knew no bounds, that you would bind yourself to a man to guarantee her ruling would be successful, would be smooth.
“Thank you, mother. The dress you had made is beautiful, the silk underneath is far more comfortable than I was expecting. I’m sure Aegon will be pleased.”
Rhaenyra smiled slightly at your words, her hands moving up to gently press a fine comb, embroidered with that of a Seahorse, into your hair. "Your grandfather had this comb commissioned for you upon Driftmark. I think your father would have been honoured to know that you’ll carry a piece of him with you on your wedding day.”
“Which one?”
Your mouth snapped open before your brain could process the words falling from your mouth, the instant look of regret flashing in your eyes at the hurt expression that fell upon your mother’s face. A sigh left her lips as she made her way to sit on your bed, gently patting the spot next to her.
“It does not matter, not to me at least. You came from my womb; I endured hours of labour to push you from inside of me. No one can take that away from us, not the realm, no one. Your husband, especially, cannot take that away from us. You are my daughter, a true Targaryen, and that is all that will ever matter.”
Pressing your head gently to the side of hers, you nodded slightly at your mother’s words. The door swung open a moment later, the sauntering figure of Daemon Targaryen entering the room.
“I believe it is time we make our way to the sept, Tala. Perhaps you should go find your husband and instruct him that he will ride with us as well.”
---------------
“What do you mean, you can’t find Aegon?”
“Sunfyre remains in the sky. He could not have gone far; he is likely bedding a whore in the Street of Silk or drinking himself into a stupor, so he doesn’t have to remember marrying our half-sister's bastard.”
Alicent gripped Aemond’s chin harshly, shaking his head tightly as she glared at her son. “You must remove those thoughts from your mind, and the words from your vocabulary. Those words are treason, and they will have your head on a spike if you speak them again.”
The door slammed open, startling both of them away from each other as the missing man in question stumbled into the room. His tunic was crumbled, his hair greasy, and his cheeks likely stained with whatever Dornish blend had found its way into his hands that day.
“Aegon! We are to be at the Sept in an hour’s time, where have you been?”
Shrugging, Aegon grumbled incoherently in response. “Avoiding my doom, perhaps. Wed Aemond to my betrothed, he’s always been able to complete his duty with little complaint.”
Aemond scoffed in response to his words, preparing to argue against the proposition only to be interrupted by the sound of a knock at the door. The wood creaked open a moment later, as your eyes took in the sight in front of you, you attempted to withhold the grimace that threatened to take over your face.
“Princess! I didn’t realize you were meant to meet Aegon in his rooms before going to the carriages.”
You shook your head with a neutral smile upon your face as you looked at the three faces in front of you. “I would like to have a moment alone with my betrothed, if that is acceptable with you, lady Alicent?”
Nodding her head with a pained smile, Alicent ushered Aemond and herself out the door, allowing it to gently shut behind her as you turned back towards the man who would be your husband in an hour’s time. You could immediately tell he was likely drunk or was facing the consequences of his actions from the night prior.
“Do you plan on bathing before our wedding, or is your intention to show up and make it seem as if we’re holding you against your will?”
“Hm, aren’t you?” Clucking his tongue at your words, Aegon’s backside connected with the bed as he sat down and glared across the room at you as his hair fell into his face.
Scoffing at his words, you gestured towards the window where the dragons could be seen flying. It had been decreed that the dragon pit was hindering the growth of the dragons, preventing them from prospering in ways that they could in Old Valyria. They would fly free unless they begin killing those who lived in Kings Landing or nearby keeps, they would not be held in a dark pit, or chained any longer.
“You could leave at any moment you want. There are no guards holding you hostage here, Sunfyre remains free and I’m sure willing to take you wherever you wish. You’ve had no issue hiding at other moments, Uncle. No one is stopping you from leaving, I’m most definitely not.”
Aegon’s anger had him pushing himself to his feet and towards you, a fiery look in his eye as he looked towards you. “And give your mother more of a reason to kill my family? More of a reason to feed my mother to your stepfather's dragon?”
A sarcastic laugh left his lips before he continued, “I have never been one to care about duty. I bear no love for your side of the family. I can acknowledge that I owe the Queen, your a mother, a sense of duty. The only reason I have not taken flight on Sunfyre is because I have a duty to protect my mother, a duty to protect my brother’s and my sister.”
“Your duty is to abide by the decrees set by my mother, the Queen. My mother has decreed that we are to marry to guarantee your family and all their allies fall in line with her. You have a duty to our future children, the future Kings and Queens of the realm.”
Another sardonic laugh left the man in front of you as he gripped your chin, his Indigo eyes glaring into yours. “Do you truly think me a stupid man, sweet niece? I will put no children in your belly, I will fuck all the whores in the Streets of Silk before I lay with you. I will be the first to die, the moment you have a babe. The only use I have for your family is that of a breeder, and you the one to be bred.”
He laid a hand on your stomach to emphasize his words, pressing a hand against your empty stomach to prove that it would remain that way. Empty.
Feeling yourself shiver at his words, Aegon was obviously not yet done, “I have no love for you, sweet niece. When I fuck you during our wedding night, I will likely be so drunk nothing will come from it. I owe you no duties, I owe you nothing. I will do what I have to, to keep myself, and my mother alive.”
A small tear trickled down his cheek, your finger subconsciously moving up to wipe it from his face. His words cut deep, you knew he held no love for you, nor for your mother, but you never realized how distrustful he was of your mother and your kin.
Gently caressing his cheek, you could tell he was embarrassed to lean into your gentle touch, “No one will kill you, Aegon. My mother is not a kinslayer, you are still the child of my grandfather, her father. We are family, uncle.”
Pulling back from your hold, Aegon glared at you, his eyes still full of unshed tears and his mind full of worries that would never be settled. “You will know no love from me. Our marriage shall be one of duty, one of convenience. Never one of love, I will take paramours and quite frankly... I do not care what you do.”
Walking back towards the bed, you could see the remainder of his wedding clothes staring up at him. “I’d like to finish getting prepared for this horrible day. If you’d make your leave, niece.”
Not even bothering to dignify him with any more words, you immediately left the room, your own unshed tears finally making their way down your cheeks as you made your way down the hall.
You had always known your marriage would not be one of choice, or immediate love. The eldest child of a Queen, her only daughter. You knew one day you would be wed to the highest bidder, the string that would tie two families together and guarantee the loyalty of another house to your own. It was always a subconscious hope that perhaps it would one day lead to love, one day lead to a type of kinship that would be written in the songs, and in the stories. In a matter of a few simple moments, those childhood hopes had been dashed and replaced with a sense of mourning for what would never be.
-----------
“In the sight of the Seven, I hereby see these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words,” the Septon gestured for you and Aegon to begin, the guests holding their breath as they waited for the fated words to leave the mouths of the bride and groom.
“Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am his, and he is mine, from this day, till the end of my days.”
“Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger. I am hers, and she is mine, from this day, till the end of my days.”
Aegon’s unshed tears from before were never more evident, his hands shaking as he gripped yours, his eyes conveying every concern that rippled through his mind and body. You felt almost... sympathetic towards him. The concern that this necessity for duty prompted, the terror that made its way through his body.
The ceremony continued as your mind wandered, before you knew it, Aegon’s hand was pressed gently to the back of your head as he guided your face to his own. His chapped lips pressed against yours, a quick connection binding two sides of a family out of duty, not of love.
The cheers from the crowd were ignored as you stared directly into your husband’s eyes. The resentment, the anger, even the fear, were never more prominent than in that very moment. To Aegon, his biggest duty was done. His duty now was to guarantee that he and his family remained alive, in whatever way he had to do so, it would be done.
