jaehaeraxtargaryen

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

setting: during the coronation celebrations of king jaehaerys ii, after speaking with his king, lord garrick cargyl arrives at princess jaehaera's quarters to speak of his intentions... @garrick-cargyll

Jaehaera’s new bedroom wasn’t the bedroom she’d had as a child, nor was it the sheltered chambers she’d been hidden away in. The Painting Room, she’d called it — where the green princess had been put to storage alongside the elaborate portraits of her family. When everything had been cleaved in two; cut down the middle with great swords of Valyrian steel.

But this new room had been her mother’s room, before she’d been queen. It was bright, and warm, and most importantly, still close to Jaehaerys. Her quraters were in the royal wing, though tucked away in one of the small towers. Circler in shape, her bed resting upon a raised dais in the middle of the room, and was more akin to a birds nest than canopy bed. Too-many pillows and duvets, over-stuffed with down feathers. 

This room had art, too, but it was her own — drawings in charcoal on canvas and cloth, parchment and wood. Pinned to the walls -- feathers, avian eyes and sharp beaks. Flocks in flight, a pair of turtle doves upon a branch, a mighty hawk thrusting himself into the air, a phoenix rising. They all seemed to blur, forming from ethereal strokes that made the drawings seem to blow away into a nonexistent wind. Somedays, the princess would sit on the floor for hours in a circle of sketches. 

She sat in the center of such a circle on her balcony, parchment scattered in an arc around her. Weighed down by her favorite wooden carvings, her collection of polished stones, and shells. There was a delicate cup of tea beside her, and next to it, quills of every color and pattered feathers imaginable that had been turned into charcoal styluses spilled around her.

But there were not birds upon her parchment — not today. For Jaehaera had been dreaming, and daydreaming, of twin suns over an ocean. She had drawn them across the sky, arching from dawn till dusk. Twin suns reign across the sky.

Jaehaera looked up from her spot on the ground at sound of someone walking out onto the balcony, her snow-drop necklace falling into the hollow of her throat. Instantly, her face brightened. “You’ve come early,” Jaehaera said with a hum, every bit as pleased as she was confused. Lavender eyes — so pale they were nearly down-feather white — blinked at the knight owlishly. No — no. He was her white knight, always, but… High Commander. That was what he was, now. 

Her gaze on his endless blues, she tilted her head, bird-like. “Hawks have exceptional eyesight,” She said, her voice a lullaby. Her lithe fingers gripped a charcoal stylus, and eyes moved to her drawings. “But they did not want to be drawn today. The sun is shining.” She looked back up at him, beaming, before her owlish look returned. “Have you come early? Or am I late?” There was a garden party — he was to escort her there, so she could see Lenora. Two suns — bright and shining over endless ocean.

#|| threads -- garrick 04 || #might be 3 #|| threads -- the coronation of jaehaerys ii || #|| threads -- the red keep || #|| threads ||

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

When she spoke, it was the same as the rest. Jaehaera stood closest to her little brother, willowy arm threaded through his. She could feel the waves of anxiety rolling off of him — and she reached out to cup his hand, like attempting comfort a child. If Jaehaera Targaryen did not know how to be a princess, then her baby brother…. No. Not a baby — not a child. Hatching. Viserys was a dragon, still. “They understand,” She said, hushed to her brother, voice a dream. Her pearlescent, Valyrian eyes flickered to the circle of ladies. Shades of purple, like so many flowers on a rolling field. Lavender, violet, lilac. Great flocks of birds: golden hawks, petrals, cormorants.

Two weren’t of lavender. One wasn’t a bird at all. Jaehaera’s lavender and cream eyes focused on Elenda a long, yawning moment. Then, they moved on, and took in the sight Jaehaery’s Hand.

Their elder brother had appointed him so, just as he had made her Court Seer — she was just learning the role, but this was… perhaps this was a choice they need make together. Some ladies were refusing, and Aerea was throwing herself at the opportunity.

When Jaehaera spoke again, it was to Viserys once more. Softly. Kindly. “Do you know of warlocks?” A question on a feather — if it went unanswered, she would understand.

Sometimes, it was too much.

Her eyes flicker to Will once more. One wasn’t a bird… but a swan… “Lord Swann,” the dreamlike quality of her voice seems almost amplified in the dark, less tangible. She wasn’t sure if it was in her own ears, her own dream filled head. “If we were all to drink?” A group of smiling blue lips. It was both hesitant and curious. Something in the darkness made her… wonder. “My brother said we.” Her head tilted, bird-like, blinking stardust. “Spells and riddles can be much the same to sort out.”

@mourningblood

the lady of rosby would’ve preferred less company on this tour, especially given some of the women who accompanied the group. though pleasant smiles and idle chatter did not entirely give way to the utter agitation that surged through her. they were in a room now at the beckoning of a stranger, a table before them, the prince seemed disturbed, which caught her attention more than the drink, the letter, and the stranger. why did he insist they drink?

lilac hues hardly acknowledged the lady of stonehelm as she read the letter, finding the sound of her old tongue grating coming from the woman’s mouth, before hues shifted to aerea who spoke next.

there is certainly freedom in death. she thought, lips curling upwards slightly, almost undetectable. “i do not think it should be a lady of house velaryon to drink first, and it certainly won’t be i.”

@nadiaestermont

#|| threads || #|| threads -- group threads || #|| threads -- the dragon pit || #|| threads the coronation of jaehaerys ii || #|| threads -- group (x) 01 ||

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

Merely dying inside, the dark-haired beauty had said, and Lady Bracken's hushed words had Jaehaera's eyelashes flutter, almost like she blinked stardust from her eyes. Dying. It never happens the same way twice. Pinioned wings, pigeon feathers, raven calls. Claws from the sky.

And though the Red Keep's weirwood had been split from its roots, Jaehaera would later recall the faint sound of rustling leaves. A winter breeze on her skin that caused goosebumps to prickle upon her arms, though they stood indoors. Like an impression -- a faint thereness.

Jaehaera did not speak on it -- because, in fact, she hadn't heard Brianna say the words at all. She had heard it from around her... but the sheen was gone before Jaehaera could find something to call it. As Brianna curtseyed, her lavender and cream gaze flickered away a moment. To long red hair across the room -- and then the thought was gone, too. As if she'd never mentioned sorrow at all.

"Do you prefer to be called Lady Bracken, or Lady Brianna?" The princess' smile was still dreamy, though, as she gently tilted her head in kind. It was still something to get used to -- to have someone curtsey to her, rather than her own reflection within a gilded mirror.

Stone Hedge -- Jaehaera was still learning what had taken place in the war -- kept away from information, from her family -- but this was one she could recall. If not because of the way that the land of endless rivers has burned, but because Jaehaerys had told her Garrick had stayed there a time. But injured...

"My brother and myself are thankful to your house, then, my lady. Lord Garrick is very dear to us." Though her words sounded far away, they were sincere. But still -- Garrick hadn't mentioned being injured badly enough to need such aid. It brought the feeling back. This feeling she was quite sure she'd never felt, she'd now felt twice -- and it made her... what did it make her feel? "Was his recovery... what caused his injury?"

She could've asked Garrick -- she knew she could ask him anything. But there was an odd sensation of unknowing, more than she normally felt. When she watched a dance she'd never learned, or did not understand a joke a group of ladies giggled over...

Where the princess sometimes seemed to know so much, the dark beauty before her... Brianna Bracken knew things she didn't. She knew things of him that she... that Jaehaera didn't.

♣️

"oh the mad targaryen is lookin me way." making eye contact with people she never intended to make eye contact was the downside of brianna bracken's ability to hold a gaze, and remain determined to continue to hold it. it was amusing enough, until the gaze she found herself briefly meeting was a pair of amethyst hues; for a moment she almost found herself panicking, wondering whether she were looking at the gaze of the king she had all but cursed whilst ordering him to turn around so she can step from the chair. no, it was not jaehaerys that she was seemingly being stared at - not this time. this time it was his sister.

"hide me." brianna spoke as she held onto her goblet, looking sideways at anastacia templeton urgently, attempting to shuffle behind her.

and then suddenly, there came the vision of a silver bird sweeping through the crowds making her way towards her, something about the woman's figure and the way she walked reminded her of a willow tree. there was no way she would be able to turn and walk away in this moment, for no doubt the king had sent his sister to speak with her regarding her insolence and lack of respect within his very library.

"you needn't be so sad, my lady," came the words of the princess, and brianna found her thick, dark brows visibly furrowing in sheer, utter confusion. for the woman seemed to be talking to something directly over her shoulder, rather than looking at her face; and then she did look at her. what targaryen deliriousness is this?

"fret not ...am not sad, yer highness...merely dyin' inside."" she mumbled the last bit as she dipped into a small curtsy, before rising to her full height. brianna briefly looked behind her shoulder, wondering whether there was something or someone the princess was looking at instead. no. nobody but her.

unsettling much.

she almost cringed at the memory of casually ripping up books that belonged to him in his own keep, in his own city, in his own kingdom, tossing pieces of illustrations of ceraxes into the flames. it had been so childish of her. and now, she saw the woman making her way over to her; it was enough to cause a flicker of nerves to come over brianna bracken, wondering whether this was just the beginning of multiple people coming to speak with her. gods, she'd rather go home and listen to the river king whining at her like the grandmother he truly was at heart.

and when she spoke...she spoke of garrick cargyll. her mouth almost dropped, and she found herself needing to keep her expression proper. of all matters, this was about garrick cargyll? had she made the mad targaryen jealous? "he do be a family friend, yes, your highness. my brother fought beside him in the war." did she need to clarify what war? the war your family had that ripped apart kingdoms, families, people...no. she'd know, how could she forget? "he were injured in the riverlands and stayed in stone hedge to recover before being sent off on his way."

a part of her wanted to laugh. a part of her wondered whether she would be cursed. "lady brianna bracken, princess." she gave her name reluctantly, like a child dragging it's feet. now she was surely done for.

who would do all this over garrick cargyll?

#|| threads -- brianna 01 || #|| threads the coronation of jaehaerys ii || #|| threads ||

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

setting: king's landing, new valyria. a breakfast pavilion in the winding gardens of the red keep. a late morning during king jaehaerys' ii coronation, the lost princess has decided it is due time she try to be brave like her elder brother and mingle with his esteemed guests... (ft. @illyaoakheart) @fromspringandfire

Jaehaera Targaryen had never been very skilled in the art of conversation. Because when the dreamer spoke, it often wasn't words -- but dreamy tangents, words that seemed more like poems that speech. Her lavender eyes so pale they were nearly white. They'd slowly glaze over, and she'd suddenly look thousands of miles away. One moment there, and the very next... gone. Her fingers, if you watched closely, would ever so slightly tap unheard music upon an unseen piano. All these poems, these riddles. That was what her septas had always said. Tsh, tsh, tshing their tongues. Princess, you must stop speaking such nonsense. Your father will be displeased. Sometimes, it was you make people nervous. Stop acting strange.

Just then, The Queen of The Reach had looked quite unsettled when Jaehaera had curtsied to her, the movement as light as air and as fluid as a dance. Something she’d practiced a million times alone in her other room — a hummingbird in a silver cage, singing the days away.

Illya had been kind when Jaehaera congratulated her on her newborn son, a dreamy smile upon her lips, and had greeted her in return. The Rose of Oldoak even smiled when the princess told her how beautiful her dress for her morning prayer had been -- deep emerald greens dripping with gold that glowed in the morning light. More than one rose in the garden, but roots sink deep. A fox, tail dipped in white cream.

"Highgarden is so full of roses..." her head tilted, bird-like and dreamy, "...i'd find it hard to pick a favorite." Jaehaera's silver lashes had fluttered. She'd never been to Highgarden. What a wonder it must have been.

But then Queen Illya’s eyes had been the same — the same as every person who had looked upon her. With surprise, then confusion — then a deep cautiousness that eventually melted into discomfort. She had forgotten how people looked at her — how they had looked at her mother. You make people nervous. Tsh, tsh, tsh.

Her grandfather Otto had never found it displeasing -- just as he'd never scolded her mother.

Because Jaehaera could not help herself. Sometimes, though she stood in a room of people, she was suddenly in a different place entirely -- in a place she'd never been, or a place she'd never seen. A beach, recently -- with emerald green waters and two bright suns in the horizon.

Then Queen Illya's expression had changed again, from Jaehaera's eyes to somewhere over her shoulder. She excused herself, and Jaehaera at last turned to watch her go. As she walked away, Queen Illya walked past a woman -- she had tilted her head, but walked straight past her without stopping. An acknowledgment, but the smallest possible sort.

Jaehaera hadn't noticed.

She turned around to see who the woman was, and roses and foxes were forgotten. Instead, there was birdsong, and the smell of spring. Wrens and new things. She merely saw Laena -- and a bright smile erupted on her face. The Princess all but floated over to her half-sister, quickly taking her by one of her hands. "Jaehaerys told me you'd be coming. I was so pleased to hear it." It had been wrens -- the birdsong. "He has planned so many wonderful things. I've never seen so many people." Her smile is bright. "But it is most wonderful to see you, Laena."

Haera had never had a sister before. It had always been she, and her brothers. It was... it had been settling, comforting in a way, to look upon someone and see pieces of herself. The soft parts her brothers did not always have... soft, kind eyes.

#im a pot strier #|| threads -- the coronation of jaehaerys ii || #|| threads -- laena 01 || #|| threads -- king's landing || #|| threads ||

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

setting: the crownlands, king's landing. the great hall of the red keep, during one of the coronation feasts. the lost princess speaks with a lady of the clover folk after seeing her in the crowd with a certain white knight... @briannabrackens

The feeling came as a surprise to Jaehaera, as she'd watched the dark haired beauty speak to her white knight. It wasn't one she often felt -- she was quite sure she'd never felt it -- and it made her... what did it make her feel?

It was a feeling akin to watching someone play with her favorite puzzle, when she had been patiently waiting and looking forward to solving it all day. Or, perhaps someone had used all her favorite paint, and her chest filled with the heavy feeling of... what?

...no. But that didn't feel right. Not that feeling. Because Garrick Cargyll was not a toy, or a puzzle to be solved. He was her friend -- her dear protector. The only person in this world that understood her, save for her brothers. Understood her, at times, even in ways that they could not. Her fear, and hopelessness. And Jaehaera understood his -- fingers grazing, then lost to a sea of screaming people. The birds fell, and the sea boiled. The sky burns, the hawk still flies -- but the search for his flock is foiled.

Jaehaera blinked, hard. It wasn't that feeling, either. The phoenix had risen. The princess wasn't going to lose her knight again. He was High Commander -- he was here, and so was Viserys, and Jaehaerys, and the dragons.

Was that been the feeling? Fear of loosing him again? She knew she wouldn't -- so why had him speaking to the woman made her feel...

Feel what?

She was determined to figure it out.

"You needn't be so sad, my lady," she said on a sigh as she found her way to the dark beauty, dreamy expression kind despite the conflict growing within her cloudy head. There was an aura about the other woman -- a sort of sorrow that clung like a sheen over her milky skin. It was almost as if Jaehaera wasn't talking at all to the dark beauty -- but the strange thing that settled around her, that wasn't actually a thing at all. "Nothing ever happens the same way twice."

But then she was speaking again -- this time, unmistakably to the dark haired woman, as if she hadn't even said anything before. "Are you friends?" She asked, her head tilting, bird-like. "I haven't had the chance to meet many of Lord Garrick's friends."

She hadn't had the chance to meet much of anybody -- between Aunt Rhaenyra imprisoning her, Daenaerys lying to her. Isolating her. Silver bird in a silver cage, pinioned wings and broken things.

Haera wanted to know -- but why did she want to know? What did it matter? Why had speaking with Garrick caused it? She could ask Jaehaerys, but... he was off speaking with his new subjects, kingly and bright and radiant. She wouldn't bother him, not on his great day -- though she longed to stay by his side, and Garrick's by her's.

"I -- oh." A deep blush ripened upon her porcelain cheeks. She'd been learning -- how to conduct herself, but when one lived in a million other worlds, the rules of this world often slipped away. "I am Princess Jaehaera. I hope you feel most welcomed here, lady...?"

She trailed off, blush furthering as she realized she hadn't even asked the other woman's name. Her fingers twitched, and for a moment, she was suddenly uneasy.

#haera its JEALOUSY #haera is actualy like wait you might be one of the presstiest humans ive ever seen sdfghjk #|| threads -- brianna 01 || #|| threads -- the coronation of jaehaerys ii || #|| threads -- the red keep || #|| threads || #sdfghjkl

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

"And the Gods touch us all, no man should reach a land without Gods." - Jaehaerys II Targaryen Speech in the Second Month of Year 144

When Aegon the Conqueror landed and began to settle he knew it was important to appeal to those who worship the seven gods of the andals. And in that he quietly built temples for visiting Rhllorist and for the Valyrian Gods of Old. These temples were meant to welcome those from the east, his plans for further temples gathering dust and them succumbing to time no more were built. And as Alicent Hightower's control over the Kingdom tightened these temples were ignored, shuttered, and fell into disrepair. They are reopened to Jaehaerys II Targaryen in the second days of his reign.

"It was found down here, your grace. There were some crates and barrels left over, must have been forgotten in the war." - One of the craftsmen

Jaehaerys comes to the temples when a builder comes looking for him quickly. Two crates are found in the Valyrian Temple, one of Valyrian Steel Ingots and one of old dragon coins. While the coin is not enough to make one wealthy, the ingots are enough to bolster a kingdoms wealth. Jaehaerys sees this as a sign from the gods. His Gods. The seven. They must continue the repairs on these temples and start back up the abandoned building projects from years before.

"There is coin in the Gods. Wealth to be made. We've a debt to clear and this is how we do it." - Jaehaerys II Targaryen opening words in a council meeting

The Temple Economy of Braavos has become an inspiration to Jaehearys and when he finally calls his council meeting he lets them know and see the discovery. He tells them there is a chance for greatness. Save for the pieces removed for personal use the ingots are up for discussion of the next best steps for this valuable but limited resource. He adds that the temples will be the home for those looking to come across the narrow sea but wish to know they can still find their Gods. And those people bring coin which will be in the cellars of the temples, something like a series of banks around the city. The main bank still being on Crackclaw Point in Celtigar Holdings.

Note: More details will be coming from these temples as this is an on going development. IC wise the muses won't discover this until after the coronation event ends.

#|| strange the dreamer — jaehaera targaryen || #|| new valyria || #|| fire and blood -- house targaryen || #|| storm and ruin -- the green targaryens ||

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

Christa Wolf ― Cassandra: A Novel and Four Essays

#|| strange the dreamer — jaehaera targaryen || #||muse||

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

"The moon cracked, brother. I seen the eggs tumble and I heard them break." - Viserys Targaryen

The youngest of the Green children who still lives is Prince Viserys Targaryen, Little Viserys, survived the dance in the way of cravens and dragon pups. Hiding in the many caves and tunnels of the dragonpit, listening to the slaughter of the creatures he loved so much. The young Prince stayed in hiding, tucked away from the view and voices of those looking for his cousins and any survivors. The tamers hid the boy among themselves, keeping him there once they confirmed Jaehaerys Targaryen was alive through a network of connections of their own.

When his brother rose to the throne Viserys chose to stay in the pits. The young Prince, the dumb dragon, earned such a name when in a tourney the handsome, young, knight was knocked off his horse and his helmet was dented, from that day Viserys seemed to only know High Valyrian and was visibly distressed in the presence of his grandmother and aunt.

The news reaches the King late in the evening in the form of his brother storming into his bedchambers waking him and the Queen with small dragons in his hands on his shoulders.

"Zaldrīzoti!! Zaldrīzoti!!"

NOTE: As in canon these dragons will only get so big but the Targaryen's will never return to dragon strength again.

#|| storm and ruin — the green targaryens || #|| fire and blood — house targaryen || #|| new valyria || #haera cried 🥹

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

Gabriella Wilde in various photoshoot (x9)

#|| strange the dreamer — jaehaera targaryen || #||face||

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

@garrick-cargyll

#|| garrick cargyll || #|| jaehaera & garrick || #|| strange the dreamer — jaehaera targaryen || #||muse||

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

Jaehaera dropped everything she was doing the moment she'd been summoned, the moment her brother returned -- leaving behind her shoes and a flustered group of handmaids and an enormous pile of papers scattered across her chamber floors. It was a normal scene, now, since the princess had been found. More now that Aegon's crown would soon sit on her brother's head. But her cousin Daenerys had known about her, even after Daemon's death. Kept her locked away, from Jaehaerys, from Viserys, from Caerella and Garrick.

"Kessa seagon, they skorītsos ñuhe. Daenerys skorītsos ābrar daor — jagon īlvi jorrāelza iderēbza. Āeksio vali īlvi jorraelza. Āeksio iderēptas iderēbi, āeksio iderēptas issa jorraelza. Skorītsos iderēbilza issa āeksio naejot.”

Big brother, they said you were lost. Daenerys said the birds were falling again — that I had to go back to the room with the paintings. That it was not safe. That you had gone again and that you would not be coming back this time.

Her words were hurried, but despite the horrible tale she spun, they were drenched in the purest of happiness. She was through the door, lifting the hem of her skirts in one hand to all but rush into her brother's waiting arms. There was no sadness mixing into her dreamy tone. Instead, it was determined, and joyful. “I knew she was wrong." Because Daenerys lied. Because the Dragon Queen had lied. "Kesīr zūgusy ivīlībi — ēlēbagon jorrāelza iderēby, jagon seagon. Mērī jaela avy ivīlī. Ōño syt ōñosy, ēlēbagon, Jaehaerys."

The birds have stopped falling — and you have risen from the ashes, big brother. You were not gone at all. Storm and ruin and ashes, and you have risen, Jaehaerys. She'd seen it all, now, she was sure -- sure that their world was changing. Birds upon a blue sky, clouds turn to ash, and scales replace feather. Plunging from the seven Heavens, to burn in the sky. But now? Feathers of flame reach upward, upward, upward, and make a crown of fire.

And as her bare feet lifted off the stone floor, her laughter like starlight, Jaehaera all but threw her arms around Jaehaerys’s neck. Her head tilted back, silver-gold hair hair like a halo around her as her brother set her gently back down to the floor shortly after.

It was such a wonderful feeling, to see him -- to see how he had grown, and though it is him who fussed over her in that moment, hands on her shoulders, lavender eyes looking her over in the same way as they were children.

Jaehaera couldn't help the pride that swelled in her chest as he replaced his kiss with a crown. King. Princess.

It was more circlet than crown, almost like made for a Valyrian priestess of old. It rested upon the gentle waves of her silver-gold hair just above her brow. Long bejeweled chains dripped from the circlet in sunrise hues of amethyst and pearl, morganite and opal. Smile bright as ever, she found herself once more speaking in the tongue of their ancestors in a flutter of bewilderment and gratitude.

Listening to him intently, she came to him at the window, sliding her hand into his and lifting it to her lips to press a kiss on his knuckles. She smoothed the fingers of her other hand over the back of his knuckles, and when she looked up at him again, she was still beaming. "You are the dragon, brother. I wish only for your happiness." But, oh, the idea of their little brother thriving and tending to hatchlings as he had always dreamed? It brought another wave of warmth through her chest. They'd all be together. In their home, where they belonged. Where people family did not lie.

Jaehaera cupped his face, fanning her thumbs upwards across his cheek bones, before dropping her hands back in front of her with a bright smile. “Only for your happiness, brother. Your happiness, and to be beside you, always.” She meant it — she meant it with every silver fiber within her. Where Jaehaerys went, she would be a step behind him, or where he deemed safest. 

He would keep the whole Realm safe.

It was a twisted thing she would never understand was twisted — her love for her brother, and how there was nothing Jaehaerys could do that was wrong in her pale lavender eyes. He was golden — Phoenix risen. Anointed by fire and blood, and righteousness and goodness. He was absolute.

With her own strange curiousness and beleif in his pureness, she was… blinded. She could See — but the truth of her brother? She never would.

"We will see Viserys often, brother?" She asked, but it was more in the tone of an echo. "We... we will maintain our position here? Is that right, Jaehaerys? Ser Garrick, he... he will protect us, here?" She looked up at him, her head tilting, bird-like. "Skorverdagon istas?"

Are we truly home?

| @jaehaeraxtargaryen | | setting :: the king meets with his sister to discuss their future and the future of the crownlands |

“Little sister.”

Jaehaerys greeting her, lifting her off the ground in a hug, his arms wrapped around her tightly then he put her back down. He placed his hands on top of her shoulders, looking her over for anything visible that could be signs of mistreatment and when he saw nothing, he leaned in and kissed her forehead. With a satisfied smile he walked around the room and leaned over to grab something from the table and held it up for her to look at.

“This is a crown fit for a princess. I even got the stones in colors you like. You don’t think I would go to Lys and come back without something for my little sister, do you?” He walked over to her and placed the crown on her head carefully and nodded his head as he looked at her. Daenerys kept her a secret from him and then when he saw her alive, he was so happy his anger was momentarily forgotten, it slipped away from his mind but when it came back, he knew that he wouldn’t allow it to ever happen again. Perhaps it was meant to keep her safe. His sister had her dreams that could lead to her fits, and she could hit her head or say something that someone could decipher and then they would stick. Trapped with her victim to some man or woman trying to win favor through her secrets. He hated to leave his sister and he wouldn’t leave her again if he could help himself.

 “Things are changing, you know. I will be King. I am King, as grandmother said I should be when we were young. And if only grandfather were here to see it so, to see things can be done without wholesale slaughter.”

Daenerys wouldn’t survive this reign, she wouldn’t sit in a cell waiting for those to free her and none would know when he would go to see her with the executioner for Braavos. His cousin would have the best. The best man, the sharpest sword, and privacy for her last days. She could not live, the two of them could not live in this life.

“Viserys has decided he will continue his work in the dragon pits, it will be good for him to tend to the eggs and we will see him often. He says eggs match yet. Though, and keep this in mind little sister, we are the dragons. We need the strength of beasts of fire to maintain power, position, or identity. We are the New Valyria. History will look back on this moment and recall it the beginning of greatness.” He looked out the window, looked over his city.

“I can give you almost anything sister, ask and it shall be yours.”

#was trying to go for roman inspired crown kinda but veil ish thats what ive come up with #jae could mass murder and haera would be like its for the cause guys isnt he amazing #|| threads -- jaehaerys 02 || #|| threads || #|| threads -- king's landing ||

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

S O O T H S A Y E R .

a playlist dedicated to a girl with her head in the stars and poetry in her heart.

{ listen. }

#|| strange the dreamer — jaehaera targaryen || #|| aesthetics || #|| playlists ||

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

THE ESCAPE OF THE GREENS FROM KING’S LANDING

Featuring @jaehaeraxtargaryen & @lencra, mention of @jaehaerysiitargaryen ( tw: violence, death )

He'd made a promise to his friend. His brother. And he was sworn to keep it.

Turmoil began quietly brewing in King's Landing when the news of the dragon prince's disappearance, with the rumors of his death. Power began to slip through Queen Daenerys' fingers in no time. The decree to remove the people of the West followed. The Lord of Cargyll then spoke to his princess as well as Jaehaerys' wife. It was time to leave.

Garrick led a small group of guards who descended from houses that supported the Greens when the dragons danced. They continued to pledge their loyalty, and so they were allowed to escort the princesses to safety. The sworn sword had purposely kept the escort small, wishing to avoid raising any suspicion. Both of the women wore light, yet sturdy chainmail under their dresses for extra precaution by his request. He rode as close to Lenora as possible, and Haera sat before him on his horse. His arms were wrapped around her as he held the beast's reins, shielding her as much as he could with his own body. Her hand was wrapped in his, and Garrick was determined to not let go of her this time.

“Ho,” he murmured, slowing his horse to a stop. His hand rose in a fist, indicating the men behind him to stop in their tracks too. With a single silent command, three of the men riding a few paces behind the consort princess positioned themselves at her side, flanking her mount in a protective manner.

They had just crossed the gates of the city, and now, before them, a handful of armored men began to pour from the edges of the road to block their path.

“State your business, before you're granted passage, ser” one of the men, the more mature-looking of the lot stated as he gave Garrick a once-over.

“I'm not at liberty to say, I answer only to her grace,” the sworn sword replied with a composed voice.

“Queen Daenerys did not grant you leave, Ser Garrick”.

“Not her,” the knight answered with a subtle scoff as he dismounted the horse. “Her,” he emphasized as he looked at Jaehaera, grabbing the reins to place them in her hands. He saw flashes of horror in her lilac eyes for a second. For a moment, his attention was hers, and he simply muttered “It’s going to be alright. I will hold your hand again in no time, my princess”. I will not let go. I will not let any harm come to you this time.

The remaining guards of his party gathered around the Targaryen princess, shielding her as they had done with Lenora just a moment ago. The men who stood preventing their easy trajectory forward began to pull out their swords. Good on them, to have an inkling of the reputation Jaehaerys’ sworn sword had.

“Let us pass. I will ask just this once,” the last Cargyll said as he slowly raised both hands in the air, walking ahead with a steady yet menacing gait. Those were the steps of a beast ready to attack.

“You’re not to leave,” the leader of that band of soldiers. “We have our orders”.

“And I have mine,” Garrick’s voice dropped to a dangerous note.

“You are under arrest—” the guard began.

“That's unfortunate. My orders don't include prisoners”. Whatever it takes, he knew. Those were the orders his prince would give. Safety, would be the only wish from his princess.

Their opponents might have felt a sense of ease in seeing Garrick’s sheathed swords at his back. They failed to look for anything else. Why would they? It was their grave mistake to fail to pay attention to his wrists. In one single motion, a bolt was shot out from under his sleeve, revealing a small, concealed crossbow. A genius little piece of engineering he'd acquired in Oldtown many moons ago. Just like that, the metallic bolt embedded itself in between the leader of the guards. In one swift motion, Garrick loaded again.

Violence erupted then. The carnage was quick. All eight bolts stored around his gauntlet were used, all eight meeting a target. His men bathed their swords in blood quicker than their opponents could coordinate a useful attack against the elite group of skilled soldiers. They didn't fight with the finesse of knights, even though some of them were. They fought in barbaric ways; using brute force, moving like swift beasts. Those men ought to have known; Jaehaerys wouldn't have entrusted his wife and sister's safety in the hands of men who wouldn't cross every line to keep them safe.

Ten to sixteen were the odds. And ten men killed sixteen, rolling their butchered corpses to the brush at the side of the road when it was all said and done.

Garrick wiped the blood of the sword he did use against the cloak of one of the dead men. He glanced around, pulling new bolts from a pouch attached to his belt, and setting them in place in his hidden crossbow. He had a feeling he'd not use it again today, yet it always served him well to be ready.

“Let's continue,” he called to his men as he rushed back to mount the horse. He sat behind Haera again, tightly gripping her hands in his for a moment. He could sense a light tremble in them. He hated she'd been a witness to such bloodshed, but his relief in having secured her safety trumped that. Again, his arms were around her lithe frame when he took hold of the reins of sank his heels on the mount's side, urging the destrier to trot again.

Garrick was followed by the steady sounds of the guards and the consort princess riding behind him. Riding to safety. It had been arranged for them to procure a carriage at the next town, then both Lenora and Jaehaera could get some rest and not find the journey to Storm's End quite so tiring.

“You're safe,” he murmured against his princess' silvery gold locks, and he was so infinitely eased by the way in which Haera's soft hand squeezed his own. The sworn sword allowed himself that brief moment of peace after the violence he'd inflicted just there, outside the capital's gates. I will not let go. I will not let any harm come to you this time.

#|| storm and ruin — the green targaryens || #|| fire and blood house targaryen || #|| laena lefford || #|| jaehaerys targaryen || #|| garrick cargyll || #|| strange the dreamer — jaehaera targaryen || #|| the escape from kings landing || #GAUNTLET GAUNTLET

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

A DRAGON IN THE STORM: CHANGES IN THE CROWNLANDS

NPC queen, Daenerys Targaryen took the throne after the death of her brother Daemon II Targaryen who died in the same way.

The return of Jaehaerys Targaryen will be the same.

During the timeskip before the Reach Wedding Season, Jaehaerys moved into Storm’s End with his house, Daenerys takes issue with this though allows it to avoid conflict and to reassure her council, namely the Master of Coin, that his worries are unfounded.

During this timeskip the war within the Stepstones happens, Jae departs to take part in this conflict for a period though he returns in time to go to the Reach.

A meeting between Jaehaerys Targarye, Tyland Lannister, and Leo Lefford take place in the reach (link pending)

Upon his return to the Stormlands, Jaehaerys leaves to fight again and then vanishes. This has people whispering he has either died, turned crave, or cloak.

There is a noticeable increase in the presence of Lords who supported the Green cause during the dance, the Princess Consorts party has a growing number of armed men everyday it seems.

Maximus Celtigar starts speaking with the Hand and the Queen about his concerns.

Jaehaerys Targaryen is on hiatus until September 1st allowing the Stormlanders and Crownlands to circle the wagons and prepare for what appears to be a slow brewing conflict.

#|| fire and blood house targaryen || #|| storm and ruin — the green targaryens || #|| jaehaerys targaryen || #|| lenora lefford || #|| garrick cargyll || #|| strange the dreamer jaehaera targaryen ||

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

#|| strange the dreamer jaehaera targaryen || #|| muse ||

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

setting: highgarden, the reach. queen caerella targaryen has, at last, given birth to who many deem a true targaryen heir, though rumors spin that this new prince's birth is too close to the deaths of her kin. the princess jaehaera was beside the queen as baelon took his first breath, and has not been far from it in the days that have followed. @caetargaryen

one handmaid rushes behind her, a new and common scene in the crownlands' and stormlands' combined court. before, when they had all gone, jaehaera had dressed herself, brushed her own hair, and spent her days dancing and painting and dreaming in solitude. now, one is always with her, like those who tended her along side her mother. she does not mind, but she forgets -- forgets, because she is enraptured in her own daydreams, and doesn't, because they are new. her age, she thinks, but unknown to her, save for their names. new -- looking at her strangely, responding when jaehaera speaks to the doves and they think it is to them. whispering between them when jaehaera makes the distinction. a giggle, a blink of confusion. forgets them, because sometimes, she wishes they were not there.

but it is no matter -- one rushes behind her, maycey, carrying her forgotten shoes as jaehaera's determined barefeet tap, tap over the cool floors of highgarden's halls. she pleads for her to stop, to wait, but the princess's thoughts are preoccupied. her cousin was awake, they said, and she had thrown off her over-stuffed duvets and all but floated out of the canopy bed. the other, stelsa, tried to finish her hair, but was only able to brush it smooth before jaehaera was pulling open her doors.

stelsa quickly explained to the sleepy kingsguard that the princess would be visiting the queen. she had to rush ahead of the bleary-eyed group, half-asleep save for jaehaera, to announce her arrival to the queen's chamber's. it was to be expected, now, even though the sun had not yet peaked over the horizon.

sun rises. the sun is born again.

her cousin was awake, they said -- but it looked like her cousin has not yet slept at all, as jaehaera drifts into the room. her attendants -- they were minding her too much. had caerella even gotten a chance to hold her own baby in the last hours, since she'd kissed her forehead goodnight?

but the princess doesn't say anything to the many handmaids in the room, the midwives, the nursemaids. she holds a bouquet of fresh cut flowers -- lilacs and white roses -- as she has brought every morning, and she settles them into a waiting vase before floating to her cousin's side where she sits up in bed. jaehaera leans down, kissing her hairline, touches her cheek, and gently kneels beside the bed, like a small bird finding it's perch. she looks up at her cousin, and smiles softly, though her eyes dart to the others in the room.

"rella…" she reaches up, brushing a strand of hair behind the queen's ear. her voice is soft, so only her cousin can hear. baelon sleeps in a cradle, peacefully, yet the room is still filled with people. "have you had a moment alone?"

#|| banter -- caerella 02 || #|| banter highgarden || #|| banter ||

[jaehaeraxtargaryen]

the pendant hangs in the hollow of her throat; a beautiful thing given to her by her white knight, and it almost seems to warm as his voice fills her ears. deep, and calm, and safe. upon first glance, common in targaryen fashion -- three interlocking shapes easily mistaken for her family's sigil. but, upon a second, greeted with intertwining snowdrops, so carefully carved they might have freshly sprung from cold earth.

and she will always take his hand. never again will it reach for her and miss. never, ever, she hopes, will she hear her voice cry out like it had for him, and his for her. and it is strange, knowing that fact and not knowing what it means. it perplexes her, lavender eyes fluttering a moment beneath silver-gold lashes. she lets the thought float away from her. she needs to remember the dance, now. her hand slips into his, and it is like an anchor. but suddenly, the years of dancing with invisible partners, to silent music, seems to vanish from her mind. the steps, the music, her mind a void hum. she knew them — and yet, seeing the others take to the floor, she feels utterly useless.

“it's been a very long time.” she says, quietly, drawing up closer to him, just a step behind. and she is both aware and not aware of her hand in his. a quarter of her face hidden behind his arm, as she stares at the dancing couples. aware, because it is warm, and it is familiar and safe. unaware, because it is natural. natural to tap her invisible musical notes into his palm, instinct to rest her fingers just so. and there is a bloom of warmth in her chest — a charm of hummingbirds. she'd told him that, and he remembers. jaehaera's own heart is hummingbird-fast, pleased, and some of her nervousness subsides.

she looks up at him, shyly, and then back at the dancers once more. she seems to be trying to convince herself. she wants to -- but the steps, the steps. but she holds his hand, tightly, and nods her head. more to herself, but then, again to garrick. "flying can't be so different," she says, faraway. she wonders if she's better suited to wings. soaring feathers on cold roaring wind, warning weathers thinned. eyelashes flutter, and she blinks. "it's merely dancing on air." fingers, tap, tap, tap. "hummingbirds never forget. they know every flower they've ever been to." the steps, the steps. steps on stones.

"can we?"

jaehaera:

setting: during the wedding feast of cedric tyrell and illya oakheart, after speeches and toasts have been given and the festivities are in full swing. @garrick-cargyll

the hall is a blur of color and candlelight. swirling skirts in jewel tones, houses of far and wide bedecked in their distinguished hues. food spills in waves off tables decorated with golden lanterns, rhoynish stars glowing down onto the rich food. spices familiar and not waft on the air, and there is dancing. one spilling into the next, and the next again in a cacophony of celebration. the whole of westeros in one place, dancing and eating and laughing.

in the playful chaos, she finds a bit of clarity – a happy moment, nearly frozen in time. at the high table, she even sees the king and his new queen share a quiet smile. more than one rose in the garden, but roots reach like the fox’s tongue, tail dipped in cream. and she is determined to hold onto this happiness, as the dancers swell and disband like the movements of flocks. but, surprisingly, she finds she has drifted from her brother’s side. but it is safe here, they had said so – and the rose-tinged air made the words feel true.

she all but floats over to him, where her stands off to the edge of the crowd, in that way that makes people step just out of her path with baffled expressions. a dance’s melody is coming to an end. soon, the next song will begin. garrick’s sword is not at his hip, and his clothing is formal – the kingsguard are here, and he was not needed, but instead a guest.

“my lord,” she says in greeting. normally, he is her knight. but that evening, his armor has been put away. it feels funny to say this title, instead of the other – her nose scrunches in a laugh, dreamy lavender gaze moving from his eyes to the ever flowing stream of dancers.

“they could learn how to fly, if they tried.” she sighs like a daydream. because all they would need is wings, and the dancers could very well take to the air. she has practiced these choreographies, alone in her old room to music from a far below courtyard. “they’d dance between the chandeliers.” feather-light laughter, harmonized with the music.

My knight, his princess always called him. But tonight Garrick has no sword to protect her and her brother, tonight he donned the formal clothing of Cargyll colors and joined the celebrations as the ruling lord of the house that was never meant for him. “Your grace,” he greeted her as she appeared at his side, light as air, an ethereal being amongst mortal men. It was a pleasant surprise to see her, and to notice the carved wooden pendant he gifted her some moons ago was now hanging from her neck by a thin chain of silver. He smiled then, a gleam of gladness that had been absent from his eyes appearing now.

“Like a charm of hummingbirds,” he added, his soft laughter joining hers, and for a moment he can almost picture the image she’s conjured in her mind. Hummingbirds rarely flew in groups, and when they did, it wasn’t called a flock but a charm, she told him once. It has been she who taught him about the natural world, after all. What he knew about flying creatures, plants and little bugs in gardens was because of her. The princess watched birds and pointed her finger at them as the sworn sword guarded her. Teaching him without intending to, perhaps. Inviting him to the conversations in her mind as she learned and learned. Garrick missed that terribly when she was gone, and he treasures that the princess is back, that he’s been gifted those moments again.

Haera seemed happy now, able to enjoy herself despite the deep suffering her family has endured in the last months. Her laughter and her smiles were more precious to him than he dared to admit. “I cannot make you fly, my princess. But well, if you’d like, we could dance,” the lord dared to ask, slowly raising his hand, offering it to her.

#|| banter garrick 02 || #|| banter highgarden || #|| banter || #SOFT SOFT SOFT #editors are still not being nice to me :(