saeraxtargaryen-blog

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

🙋 + eggs

It would probably be odd to others that Saera thought of her dear egg as her own child, but it was truly that important to her. She always wondered when it might hatch and admired the bond that her brother and mother got to share with their own dragons. Perhaps it is not something outsiders would understand, but to Saera it’s something she has come to expect, know, and love since she could remember.

#hc

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

🙋 + lannisters

The Lannisters, a name that had previously ignited the flame within the dragon princess, but recently caused some confusion within her. While she wanted so badly to despise them, they did not seem so horrible. Perhaps the princesses were a bit snappy, in her opinion, but was she not the same towards them? They seemed like any other noble woman that she might get along with, if the circumstances were different. The prince was completely opposite from what she imagined, and in a way that scared her. Perhaps in another world, she might allow herself to be more fond of him. But here they were, in this imperfect, cruel world.

Her thoughts on the Lannisters, aside from their patriarch who she did truly detest, remain a deep secret, as she fears the backlash from her mother and brother if she were to attempt to try and halt the ill relations between their families based purely on feeling.

#hc

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

Send "🙋" + any headcannons you want to know about my muse.

#meme #hc

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

“Your smile is almost convincing.”       “My face aches from it.”

#face #sb #quotes

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

Saera felt infinitely more comfortable home in King's Landing after a violent end to a celebratory event for the new King in the North. She couldn't get the visions of those assassinated right in front of her out of her head, and thus sleep did not come easy for some time for the dragon princess. Alas, it was a new day, and she had to hold herself to a certain standard, one that did not let such things get to them. The princess got dressed for the day and may her way out to the gardens to get some fresh air.

She almost jumped when the sudden sound of footsteps came near her. Her bright eyes widened for just a moment before she smoothed out her dress and composed herself. "Apologies, I didn't know anyone was out here."

#crownless:start #( I'm sorry this is kind of vague. ) #( you can message me if you want to work something out. )

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

blackantlcrs:

Goblets rang out in bell-like chimes as they were knocked together at the peak of celebration. Hearty, belly-born laughter rose up in chorus over the hum of chatter. This was nothing like the commons at The Wall. Grim, meager meals taken in shifts where the black-clad servants of the brotherhood ate in oppressive silence. The work was hard, and the winter mean. The days blurred together in cold blue succession, so this much warmth, this much laughter — it was jarring for him. He longed to step into the Wolfswood, to disappear among the thickets and trees. A distraction from that lonesome thought was welcome.

“Any man watching his nephew take on the weight of a kingdom would feel this way,” he countered, clasping his hands behind his back. He walked at a slow pace, taking the long way around the room and watching the festivities unfold. “I can’t say I’m accustomed to celebration; there is little to rejoice at The Wall.” Eromir looked away from the teeming Great Hall, and allowed his eyes to settle on the woman in silks at his side. “But you’re no stranger to pomp, are you?”

Of course. The Targaryen princess felt dumbstruck that she hadn't figured it out before. His entire demeanor shouted that he was of the Night's Watch, and the Lord Commander at that. "I'm so sorry, I didn't even realize who you were, Lord Commander." She couldn't even begin to imagine the things he must've seen in his time at the Wall. While curisosity came about her for a brief moment, she settled it, understanding it would be inappropriate to ask of his time even further North.

"No, I'm not. I am quite a stranger to such a harsh winter, and usually at celebrates I'm usually on the side of the beloved and not the one that everyone is looking at with fear and loathing in their eyes." Saera appreciated the time he was taking to lead her away, she needed a moment to forget the room full of people and to be unnoticed for once.

#c: Eromir #location: Winterfell

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

stagsouled:

( ⚔*°*. ) → her father had made p e a c e with the dragon queen decades prior and it seemed that despite his death and the queen’s slow decline into a grief-induced insanity, their children would continue such a tentatively struck agreement until better offers were made. the dragons did not have many friends, she knew this as well, and so milked the opportunity for what it was worth. there was no animosity between the two houses but aregelle was an ambitious little thing and placed her bets on whichever side was winning ─ at the moment, the dragons s e e m e d victorious while the lions licked at their wounds but things were always changing and so was she.

   “i am glad to see that the queen has made the trip. i did not expect to see her grace here.” soft words, so that intention would not be m i s t a k e n. “as expected ─ i keep to the shadows and stay away from the drunkards, as many. beyond that, it is a calm evening.” a boring event, though she did not dare say so. she did not want to ruin calder’s coronation, despite desire to be entertained. “has… has anyone been giving you trouble, princess? i saw the lion’s banner flying earlier this evening ─ if anything does happen, w e are here for you and your mother.”

It was true that the dragon felt most alone in this new age, all the bad blood that had been created was still very much in the air, and Saera sensed eyes piercing her at every turn. She was truly glad to have the stag Regent on her side, and probably trusted her much more than she should, but what was the princess to do about the one true friend she believed she had? She took no offense to the words, and was actually comforted that Aregelle at least brought up the subject.

"It took some convincing, but we are glad she came." She admitted. "Regardless, we would've been here." Saera added, hoping to soften the slight blow she made towards her mother. Perhaps she tiptoed too much around her mother. The dragon princess gave a small laugh and nod. "Yes, it seems there are many here who have celebrated quite a bit." She bit her lip at the next question and gave a small shrug. "I managed to run into the prince, but we were able to stay civil, at least in action. I cannot say that I didn't speak somewhat harshly to him." She tensed a bit at the thought, but tried to remain her composure. It did no good for a dragon to start a fire from within.

#c: Aregelle #location: Winterfell #( ok but I love these two & aregelle's shady intentions lmao )

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

astertyrell:

“The pleasure is all mine, Princess Saera.” He eyed her with newfound interest having confirmed his suspicions that this was in fact the Targaryen princess he had thought she was. More concerned with meeting someone knew and finding out what he could from this girl, than he was with prejudice or blaming someone for the actions of a parent.

Aster had never truly met a dragon in the flesh, and was intrigued by this princesses ethereal, otherworldly looks and the multitude of rumours that had come down the grapevine about a crazed queen and a crumbling kingdom that sparked a glint of curiosity in his eyes. Wars had ravaged Westeros mere generations ago under the ministrations of a crazed Tyrell king, though the stains on the roses’ reputation had been cleaned by Aster and his brother’s careful control, as well as focus shifting to the Crowlands where far more enticing food for rumours were circulating.

Saera was not sure what to think of the Tyrell prince after his family history, but she was sure he must have felt the same about her. It wasn't their fault what the generations before had done before them, but perhaps that didn't matter. She wondered if maybe they might inherit the insanity of their ancestors. Saera prayed that wouldn't happen, for either of them, and hoped that maybe they could all find their peace. She smiled at him before speaking. "Well, this seems to be quite the celebration. It's odd, seeing so many completely different families in one room. It's almost a recipe for something to go terribly wrong."

#c: Aster #location: Winterfell

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

stagsouled:

( ⚔*°*. ) → soft whisper in the ear had alerted her to the presence of the dragon queen and her daughter, so far from their t r e m u l o u s seat upon the throne and in the realm of direwolves ─ she knew that the princess would be looking for a familiar face in a sea of cold strangers and enemies ( she had seen the gold and red of the lannister banner as she rode through the gates and had smiled; how f u n this coronation could be, if dragons and lions spat at each other to entertain the guests ). aregelle was not fond of niceties, hailing from a land where words were spoken candidly, fought over and then forgotten in laughter ─ the only slight was an u n s p o k e n slight in the stormlands, where men settled things with the blade and lost was taken in good humor. yet she must try, if only to keep with appearances.

   “princess saera.” she was not a smiling woman, though the corners of her lips lifted ever-so slightly as she dropped into a bow before the princess. “i believe there was talk of hippocras further down the hall. i was just about to go venturing for it, if you would like to j o i n me?” soft question poised, arm extended.

The princess glowed at seeing a familiar and friendly face as she was approached by a friend of her families. This place seemed so full of strangers, not quite enemies, but not anyone she really felt comfortable with or that she could trust. She hoped Aregelle would help her find some strength this night as she knew she had to represent the Targaryen household well.

"Lady Regent." Saera smiled brightly at the Barathean woman. "I would love to." She crossed her arm with the others, before turning to her mother. "I will be back soon." She stated, before walking off. "I could use a barrel of hippocras right about now." She sighed, feeling the weight of the evening coming down on her, counting down the moments until the night ended. "You look lovely as ever. How do you fair tonight?"

#c: Aregelle #location: Winterfell

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

blackantlcrs:

Life at The Wall ensured that Eromir had few opportunities to speak with women, particularly fair women from great houses wrapped in imported silks. The life he had once lived, as a young lord and heir to Storm’s End, was so deeply buried that he had trouble remembering the proper customs. His world was filled with verglas and bitter cold, with steel and meager meals. The woman with sunlight in her hair and porcelain skin blushed from the cold struck a chord with him — even in a room full of opulent strangers, she stood out.

“Walk with me,” he said, his offer sounding more like an order. As Lord Commander, he had little opportunity to exercise softness; for once, he regretted that. “The kitchens are this way.” He pushed away from the wall, leaving the comforting embrace of shadow to step into the flickering glow of torchlight. “You are no bother,” he said, taking a step toward the kitchens and wondering if the woman would follow and if he might learn her name. “I have to thank you for breaking the wayward trend of my thoughts. Had you not, I might have clung to the shadows all night.”

Saera gauged that he had to be a high lord, or within a military of some sort. He just had that air about him that commanded respect. Still, she wasn't quite sure of his identity, but he was being kind enough to her, despite her interruption, and even seemed to be thankful to her for it. He was quite mysterious, and that drew her in.

"That saddens me, at such a celebration that you would feel that way." Saera frowned at the man, following him as he led her to the kitchens. She generally wouldn't follow a stranger, but it seemed like everywhere they went there were people or servants bustling about. There was no where to truly be alone, and so she felt safe in that way. "I suppose these events aren't really for you, huh?" She questioned in a light-hearted tone.

#c: Eromir #location: Winterfell

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

tytos-lannister:

Before all the things that had caused this spiraling downward, this great plethora of problems that his brilliant father had created in his one singular moment of hubris this conversation would’ve gone completely differently. Before perhaps she would’ve even been considered and on the short list of candidates that’d make a fine wife for him. Even if she wouldn’t have been on it - if even before her brother was so murdered he would’ve been kind to her. The smallest of smiles, even with whatever purpose that would’ve been behind it would’ve been extended towards her. A laugh even and leaning in towards her to whisper something witty and a wish to dance with her. It would’ve been an evening - pleasant and particularly beautiful in fact and even up here in the frozen north the lion’s company would’ve been warm and thoroughly inviting.  In his old age, in whatever lapse of judgment there had been the Old Lion Tyland shattered any hope of there ever being any of these conversations now. Imploded were all his chances but the burden set upon him was more than capable of being shouldered by the young lion. By the heir. He hadn’t had any need for pleasant conversations before though. They had always been a mere formality with anyone but those who were his immediate family.

The mug smacked the floor, hitting the ground with a firm thudding only heard by the two of them splashing the majority of its contents to the ground soaking into the surface beneath them. His gaze didn’t even break from her face; it hardly shifted if at all for even a moment from the dragon. Sharp blue eyes looked on in observance of the Targaryen -she had right to hate. She had every right in the entire world to hate the son of the man who robbed her of her brother. He could’ve tried to stop it, yes. His hands did in fact indirectly have as much blood on them as Tyland Lannister. Perhaps more then anyone would know. That was the greatest crime - how much death and destruction had the Lannister son been indirectly and immediately involved with. Only the Seven knew and they had forgiven him for it or what was the reason he had not died yet several times over himself. “I am not my father” He whispered as the young lion still failed to break eye contact with her fishing up the mug to hand it back off to reach out and offer her another one fully expecting the dragoness to cause a scene. “It must’ve been my hands that let your drink slip - pardon their clumsiness”

What exactly did the lion mean? Why would he feel the need to show some little kindness to her? At least that is what she interpreted this to be. Saera was sure she'd be rid of him after her remarks, perhaps foolishly spoken out of pure emotion. She didn't regret them, however, but somehow, she found them to be less true now. It seemed time stopped a moment before he spoke again, and she found herself accepting the mug once more, her hand brushing his slightly as she took it, and she cursed herself for even the little form of physical contact she had made with lion. "The fault was mine." Saera responded after a pause, her voice just loud enough for him to hear, and her tone softer than before. She took a long sip of the liquid within, hoping to gain just a little more courage to endure this conversation, that somehow became easier even without the help from the beverage.

The words she spoke next she had chosen carefully. His admittance of being unlike his father seemed to open a doorway in her mind. She could've brushed it off as some sort of excuse, and it probably was in it's own way, but Saera saw it as a way to try and engage the Lannister prince in more conversation in order to find out just a little more about what happened to her brother. Would it bring her comfort, or more pain? She could not answer, but she would regret it if she didn't try. "What do you mean, then?" She asked, slightly raising a sleek, blonde brow. "That you are not like him?" Saera clarified. "And tell me, prince, how exactly would you feel if the roles were reversed? If it had been your beautiful sister by the orders of my mother, and not my brother by your father? Would you consider me an innocent for that? Or would you condemn me, too, as I have condemned you?" The fire was clearly lit inside the dragon princess as she prodded for answers, perhaps a conversation not fit for such an event, but one that was very likely to happen should fate act as it did this night and introduce the lion and the dragon.

#c: Tytos #location: Winterfell #( pahaha right?! )

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

astertyrell:

“He must be a very loved King indeed.” Aster said without a hint of genuineness, though he expertly covered his mocking with a saccharine sweetness that was well practiced. “I have heard that the Northerners are just as loyal as a pack of wolves.” He laid his emerald gaze on one of the silver direwolf banners lining the walls of the banquet hall. “Fitting, no?”  

His smile was as warm as the room was cold, well practiced within a court of liars and masks at Highgarden. This girl seemed sweet, and just as southern as he was, and if her distinct features did not deceive him, he was face to face with a dragon of the Crownlands. “Prince Aster Tyrell, my lady.” He said, with a courteous bow of his crown of curls. “May I ask yours?”

The dragon princess gave a laugh at his clever joke. "The is fitting, indeed." Saera nodded in agreement. She found herself already liking this Tyrell prince, but she always wondered once she revealed her name what one would think back of her.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, prince." Saera returned his bow with a graceful curtsy. "I'm princess Saera Targaryen." She introduced herself. She always spoke her name with pride and dignity, but on the inside she feared the reaction to it. It wasn't her entire family that was soiled, but her mother's more recent actions, or inactions, were causing sort of a scandal, amongst the rumors from previous wars.

#c: Aster #location: Winterfell

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

crwnedgold:

no one could blame the lannisters for the anger that continuously burned for the targaryens; they badly bruised and crushed their prides and the lions do not take it lightly. she knew that if she attended the northern prince’s coronation, there was a good chance that she would cross paths with the dragons; it would be inevitable. it is no lie that not attending has crossed her mind and certainly, her family’s as well, in order to avoid their enemies but this would risk offending the north and that was something they can’t do. they had to show that despite the oppression they were still strong. the lioness did not mingle much except when making pleasantries with royals and noble alike who approached. She had a cup of wine in her hand a small smile plastered on her face, just enough to make her seem like she liked being there.

the princess to turn to the voice that asked only much to her surprise, her smile faltering. Cerena balled her fist as she perked a brows at the targaryen princess. although she did not know her personally, the resemblance from the rest of her family was hard to miss, loosely basing on what she was told of them. she could have made a scene then and there but opted to take the high road even if anger consumed her. “Well, you found me.” she mumbled. “how unfortunate this must be— for both of us really.” slowly, her smiled came back—the voice of her mother echoing into her subconscious. they must not know that you are bothered by their presence. “i do believe freshments must be nearby, i am sure the starks wouldn’t their guests thirsty especially important guests such as yourself, princess.” cerena tried so hard not let an inch of sarcasm drip from her words and really tried to be polite.

Saera cursed her bad luck, having run into another lion this evening. It was a great possibility, but she completely loathed the idea, and hoped perhaps her brother would accidentally come upon them instead of her. The words didn't come to her so easily, truly she was raging like a wildfire on the inside, afraid if she tried to speak before thinking she may very well burst. However, her egg had yet to hatch, she did not hold that sort of power, yet anyways. She wondered if anyone was watching this interaction, it was probably one of the most antipated, or feared, of the evening. It was no secret the turmoil between their families. After all, the lannisters were murderers, and they all had the blood of her precious brother on their hands. Saera vowed they would pay, but tonight was not the night.

The dragon could feel her nostrils flaring, her face did not even try to muster up any sort of neutrality. Dealing with her solemn mother this evening was weighing enough on her, she truly did not want to see or even speak to the reason behind her mothers sorrows. As if fate was mocking the lion and dragon, a servant came by with a tray full of drinks, one Saera promptly plucked and drank until empty in one swift movement. "I wasn't looking for you, and you should be glad of that. You've had the great fortune to run into me, and not my mother." Saera raised a blonde brow. "No need for niceties, they're wasted on me."

#c: cerena #location: Winterfell #( *grabs popcorn* )

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

Jodie Comer photographed by Simon Emett for MINE Magazine (Spring, 2016)

#face #( musings. )

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

reality is catching up with me, taking my inner child I’m fighting for custody with these responsibilities that they entrust in me, as I look down at my diamond encrusted piece thinking–

no one man should have all that power; the clock’s tickin’ I just count the hours; stop trippin’ I’m tripping off the powder, till then, f*ck that! the world’s ours

#music #inspo #( musings. ) #( idk why I'm feelin this rn )

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

tytos-lannister:

It was only a matter of time, like the ebb and flow of the tide or the rise and fall of the sun this interaction and many more like it were expected. Anticipated even and only the most prepared of lords would survive the night verbally unscathed. Each and every lord and lady, prince to king and even their servants had better be equipped and ready to handle and chance conversation one might have the possibility to walk into. After all there might not have been swords and knives and weapons in the room or a severe lack of armor and fortification but even though this was a party it was a battle field. Wars of a sort were fought and won here by both men and women that some could argue had much more of an impact then actual battles did. Thus was born the the reason for a wise leader to be a shrewd politician capable of waging war with words and subtle actions as opposed to any sort of physicality. Times like these for celebrations like this called for diplomacy and a shrewd politician’s tongue. Throw enough nobles in the same rooms and force them to interact politely with one another and bad blood between someone or another was absolutely bound to boil up from the depths beneath them however. Like flood waters it would come to take them and sweep them all away with its unstoppable force.  Anyone could’ve told you that even in a neutral setting celebrating the crowning of another king that titans would clash, planets would collide and when lannister and targaryen met again in such a neutral setting after the last time they had ‘interacted’ the universe wouldn’t remember how to breath.

With the sound of the Targaryen’s voice the Lannister Crown Prince turned and the universe halted for a moment. The young lion stood face to face with the dragon and the smile he was about to let shine forth brilliantly at the approach of another young woman dissolved. It did not disappear but the expression there upon his face danced dangerously close into territory that could’ve been considered no longer a smile. Not for her - not for any Targaryen would he show his actual teeth. It was not that he didn’t like her. Far from it. Tytos didn’t even know the young woman but he knew her colors, knew the family resemblance she bore to the Targaryen his father slew so his mind automatically connected the dots. Having been previously locked in conversation whomever he’d been talking to silenced, walking away carefully as the young lion surveyed a woman that was perhaps now living in his home thinking to call it hers. Silence settled upon him as he observed her quietly himself before answering. “Would our conversing incite bloodshed between our family more so then there already is? Even here I am not particularly keen to the idea” He said reaching out and grabbing one of the mugs off the trays carried around the room offering it to her. “You just have to know where to look, Princess”

Fate did not smile upon the Targaryen princess this day. How could it be that the one stranger she asked for a little bit of help turned out to be the Lannister prince? It didn't take her, but a moment to decipher his features and the colors he bore to know exactly who he was. Every emotion seemed to well up inside her, although her face only remained that of some blend between shock and disgust. Oh, how she wanted to scream and hit him with all that she had, how she had wished that she had not seen him this night. There was the chance, but she thought with so many guests it could very well not happen at all. Yet, here he was. Within inches of the dragon's grasp. She wondered if her brother or mother had spotted them yet, surely her mother hadn't, or she feared that a scene would ensue.

Her chest heaved with the anger that she qualmed, the words that she tried to muster would not come for a long moment. The son of her sweet, precious brother's murderer, how could she even converse with him? How dare he even speak to her as if he has not done any wrong by her and her family? Saera hated him already. No matter how handsome or charming he might be, she wouldn't allow him to try and get through to her in that way. Saera held out her hand for the mug, but in her state could not properly grip it, and so it fell to the floor, splashing on the lower half of her gown's skirt. Luckily the noise was not hardly noticed in such a loud and bustling room. She looked down at the mug, then up at the prince. "It might if you dare to keep speaking to me. You have just as much of my brother's blood on your hands as your father." The emotion became a bit more prominent as she spoke, but she still didn't completely fold. "Do not go near my mother. She will certainly try to do what I wish I could in this moment, prince." She hissed the warning. Truly, Saera was doing him some favor. Although she wasn't sure if it was for his sake, or her mother's, or for the sake of the evening.

#c: Tytos #location: Winterfell #( this shall be fun )

[saeraxtargaryen-blog]

Peridot in Volcanic Lava from the mountains of Canary Islands in Spain. by AllofHerStones (via Amazing Geologist)

Follow for more gemstone and mineral pics

#inspo #sb #( its her bb ) #( dragon egg ) #queue