La Fleur (The Flower) (by 1945) by Delphin Enjolras (French, 1857 – 1945), signed (top right): ‘DEnjolras’, pastel on paper, 58.5 cm (23 in) x 71.5 cm (28.1 in), Private Collection
https://www.tumblr.com/karmaswitch/808722379999182848/baelor-breakspear-x-targreader?source=share I dont know to link my othwe post without looking like this but its based off that post I made. The name of the fic will be "The Flower" so all futire posts regarding that prompt will be under that name.
Tags: fem!reader, Targ!reader, Targ!cest, Uncle x niece, Maekar's!daughter, maybe a bit of OC from the other charcters becuase its my fic and i can do whatever I want, reader will be described with white hair and purple eyes but everything else will pretty much be ambiguous
word count: 752
Y/N Targaryen had always been a delicate girl. She always preferred to stay in with her needlework or get lost in the many books in the libraries of Summerhall and the Red Keep. She had just turned ten and nine only one moon ago. Too old to be unbetrothed. She heard the whispers. The court wanted her wed. She can't blame them. Most girls are betrothed by the age of ten and six, and sometimes even younger.
She knows she is to wed within her family. That had been her grandsire’s only request to her and her father. There had been enough marriages with other houses, strengthening loyalty within the realm. Even without dragons, the blood of the dragon must stay pure. She could hear her grandsire’s words as she walked through the halls of the Red Keep towards her father’s chambers. It had been only her, Aegon, and their father that remained in King’s Landing after the tourney in honor of her nameday. The rest of her siblings had returned to Summerhall.
She loved Aerion. Truly, she did. They had been made in the same womb at the same time. He was half of her. But she did not want to wed him. Had never actually laid a hand on her, but his words were enough to send a chill down her back. She dearly loved Daeron as well, and while he was always kind to her, she did not want to marry a drunkard. She wanted better than a man who would love his wine more than he would love her. Aemon at the citadel was out of the question, as was little Egg, for he was far too young. Her cousin Valarr was already married, and Matarys was also deemed too young for her.
She quietly entered her father’s chambers and bowed, “Father.” She had not noticed her uncle, who sat off to the side, her gaze completely on her father.
“My flower,” Maekar said softly as he held his hand out for her to take. He gently covered her small, soft hand with his other as he spoke to her.
“I have made my decision, he sighed. “Though it is still up to you to refuse and choose another.”
Y/N nodded as she looked at her father, her hand still between his.
Maekar glanced at his brother. It was then that she realized he was there.
“Your Uncle has approached me with a proposal-”
“But I- I thought Matarys was too young,” she spoke as she looked between the two men in confusion.
“He is,” her father nods.
It is then that Baelor finally speaks, “ It will not be too long before I eventually become King,” He sighs, almost in reluctance, as he spins the ring on his finger. “ The council, along with the King are urging me to take a wife again.”
Y/N can feel her heart beating against her chest as the realization dawns on her. Her father squeezes her hand.
“I would take you as my wife if you would have me,” Baelor slowly stood up as he approached them.
“ You would stay here with him; there would be no pressure for you to produce heirs, for he already has some,” Maekar spoke as he let go of his daughter’s hand. “You would become queen when he ascends the throne, and he will be good to you.” Maekar’s eyes scanned her face as he finished.
She finally looked at her uncle. He stood close enough that if she reached out, she could touch him,m but far enough to give her space. His mismatched eyes softened as their eyes met. He would be good to me; he is an honorable man, she thought.
“You are allowed to say no and marry one of your brothers if that is what you wish,” Baelor spoke softly.
Y/N shook her head. She looked at her father and nodded, “ I’ll wed him.”
Maekar let out a sigh of relief before pressing a gentle kiss to her crown, “Good.” He stepped towards the door, “I’ll let father know,” he said gruffly towards his brother, who nodded.
Once her father left, she turned her attention back to her uncle, and she could feel the nerves in her stomach begin to calm as his eyes softened once more when they met her lilac ones.
King Daeron made the announcement almost immediately: the flower of Summerhall would wed the Prince of Dragonstone in two moons' time.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Notes: okay okay I took a break from studying to write this bc I was itching to. I know it’s short but I wanted to put something out there. I apologize if it’s bad 😭 I haven’t written anything in a while and I’m kinda caught up with school. I will also be posting on my AO3 so if yall want that let me know. I don’t know how many parts it’s going to be. The next chapter might be a filler chapter with just little moments between the reader and Baelor before the wedding and then a whole chapter for the wedding. I also don’t know how much time to put between the wedding and the Tourney in ashford. One chapter ? Two chapters? Idk. Since there’s going to be a happy ending I kind of plan on having a of small bits where it’s literally just the reader and Baelor being cute.
Have you ever really let it sink in that the Sundrop flower was uprooted, and not outright picked?
This is the first and immediate thing they do.
I like to think that the intent was to transplant it in the royal gardens, so that it could be used for the people of Corona, but that the transplant didn't take and the flower was showing signs of wilting, and that's why they ended up plucking the blossom. Either that, or that they thought it would be like some other kinds of flowers that would produce more blossoms later.
Anyway, I headcanon that the plant itself is still alive in the royal gardens, but that it will never produce another flower again.
