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librosamarillos · 4 months

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passed down like folk songs

chapter 37: mad woman

Maegor Targaryen x OC

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Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, angst, mature themes, targaryen incest, violence, Maegor is a red flag himself, characters are ooc probably, MINORS DNI

Visenya could not find any sleep. There was too much on her mind these past few days. Rowan was going to be here in the morning, and she was rightfully going to be expecting answers. She never felt guilt for hiding all this from her, no, she did it to protect her, but she did feel guilty for how much this all hurt her in the process. She debated on how much of the truth she’d tell her, but ultimately decided to not hide things anymore.

She sat up in her bed and reached for Maegor’s letter. He wrote back to her so quickly, she could feel the panic in his words. This Tyanna would supposedly help him with ruling, as she had her own web of spies. Useful, to be sure, but to invite her in his bed? That was so unlike her son, when he looked so physically disgusted at having to share a bed with anyone who wasn’t Rowan. Still, she’d give him this chance, if Tyanna proved to be of use, she better prove it as soon as she could.

It all saddened her. She used to stare out the window and watch as Maegor and Rowan ran around the gardens, or played their games. At that time they were so free, so relaxed, they did not have to worry about anything bigger than themselves. Now her son was in exile trying to get an heir, and Rowan… she wasn’t sure in what state Rowan would arrive in. She thought for a moment, debating if she should give this new letter to her, if it would make things any better at all.

His letter was panicked, it was a desperate attempt to apologise, his words far too dangerously close to the truth. Still, they were sincere. She’d give Rowan the letter. It was written for her. She’d give it to her once they talked, and she could decide how she’d proceed. She had been treating her like she was too fragile, because with Maegor, she was. In other matters, Rowan was calm and objective and level headed, but when it came to him, there was only so much that she could do.

She could never blame her for it. She had her own fragilities, no matter how much she tried to hide them behind a stern mask. Rowan was the only one that got to know that fragile part of her, only because she trusted her so much. She had spent years trying to act like she didn’t care, like Aegon’s favouritism didn’t affect or shake her or crush her heart and she kept all her heartache to herself, before she found someone who cared to listen with no agenda.

She wanted to act like she didn’t care, like it didn’t eat her up from the inside when they all looked at her like something was so off-putting and wrong about her, but this was her own fucking family. It couldn’t be the fact that she was a woman, as they never treated Rhaenys this way, nor would they ever dream of doing so.

She would hear from people around them that it was normal for girls her age to be angry, to be vindictive and in a bad mood. But then she’d hear that silent thought everyone would have: ‘But Rhaenys never acted like this.’

She hated it. She hated this feeling. Yet sometimes, she’d dream of carving out her skin and wearing it as her own, wearing her face on top of hers, so that she’d finally have her parents and Aegon look upon her with that pride, that fondness that they all had for her and her alone. Jealousy was a terrible and demeaning thing to have in her heart, but she could not stop herself from feeling it. She wanted them all to tell her, to show her that in their eyes, she was the one that was worthy and loved and wanted. Not tolerated. Loved and wanted.

But why should she have to crawl into her sister’s skin in order to be the apple of everyone’s eye? Why was she not enough as she was?

Visenya found herself wandering around the castle. Maybe she was trying to clear her head and tire herself out, she wasn’t so sure. Passing by the training yard made her smile. She loved training as a girl. It fulfilled her, to have a goal and work day by day to achieve it. She’d train longer than Aegon did and prided herself in the strength she had built over all that hard work. Their father would often observe them silently, keeping track of their progress and their skill, just as she did when Maegor trained. Aegon should’ve done that too. Maegor deserved to have his father there, to train by his side. Duncan would cheer him on, but he was no great warrior to help his training.

She walked the halls, reminiscing about the past, about the times when her son was small and had just learned to walk, and she’d have to be chasing him because he’d bolt anywhere. She wondered if she ever did something similar to her mother. Motherhood was not something they’d ever discuss at length, she was only told what was expected of her, as well as a short recollection of her experiences with each birth. Maybe her mother was just not that good at talking, and maybe it was Visenya’s fault too for not being good at it either.

She doubted their mother was ever bad at talking with Rhaenys. How strange and unfair it was, how different parents could be with each daughter. She saw it with her parents and later with Aegon himself. They all looked at her like something was wrong with her, and perhaps they sensed it in Maegor too. She wondered how different it would be if Maegor was Aegon’s only son. Would he then begrudgingly pay attention to him and try to raise him? Would he see how wrong he was to set his son aside, once he got to know him better?

Rhaenys had mentioned throughout her life that she wanted to have a big family one day and it gave Visenya such a sick feeling of vindication that she never got to have that, that she only had one son, just as Visenya did. That moment when she had Aenys must’ve felt like the biggest victory of all for her little sister. She had won and was not at all humble about it. And now her shot at being the mother of a dynasty was falling apart. It was a sick sense of pride that filled her when she thought about the fact that she was the one that was still alive, to get to watch it all happen, to watch her sister’s line fail. Maegor would succeed, she knew he would.

It was such low hanging fruit, to want to feel superior to a dead woman, let alone her dead little sister, but every time Aenys, her legacy, failed, it filled her with a sick sense of satisfaction. It was like it was revenge for every time they called her too intense, too paranoid, too crazy. And look at their son now, unable to lift his own head because the crown feels too heavy. It was the same sick feeling of relief she felt when the news of her sister’s death had reached her ears.

Just like in Valyria of old, as the eldest child, Dragonstone should belong to her. Aegon agreed. Aegon promised. As his first wife, it was her son that was supposed to inherit the throne. For so many years she had bit her tongue, she had kept to herself, begrudgingly so, and she was done. Her son would not be robbed of his birthright, his crown.

She walked down a hallway she had been avoiding for as long as she could remember. It was empty, with no guards, as there was nobody living there that needed protection. Not anymore. She could not remember the last time she ever visited her little sister’s room, she could not remember a time where she’d wish to ever do so.

Rhaenys’ room was still, like a painting of a place from years ago. Aegon had servants upkeep it, not to the extent of her room in the capital, but it was still done to an almost religious extent. Everything was clean and yet Visenya could feel cobwebs all around her, and spiders and dust, all over this frozen painting. She never came here, not even after her death. If anything, she wanted to rid herself of all the painful memories she had, not feel them and relive them again and again.

While most of her belongings were in King’s Landing, there were still many of Aegon’s gifts to her still in this room. Rhaenys never kept her attention to one thing for too long, so Aegon had it easy when picking out presents, as she’d spend about a fortnight preoccupied with her new gift, before setting her eyes on something newer, shinier, more interesting. Maybe that’s what kept Aegon so eager to cater to her every whim, a fear that he’d also get tossed aside for someone more interesting and shiny and new.

Visenya tried to find something good, something sweet in her memories of her sister, but she could now only look back with suspicion and guilt and grief and anger. She was not the little sister she had needed and no amount of reminiscing would make her so. Perhaps that was why she had always clung onto Rowan as much as she did, because she was what she had yearned for. A little sister, a companion, a trusted friend, someone who saw right through her stoic expression and formalities, someone who held her hand and understood her pain and her hurt and her anger and never once treated her like a problem, like someone who she had to walk on eggshells around. Gods, she hated it when they did that.

They did it often, but the worst time they did that was right before they were to start the conquest. The death of their father was not new, but still felt so raw to her. For all the anger and resentment she felt toward him, his death had hit her hard, and she felt so isolated in her grief because it was so different from the grief of her siblings. Aerion Targaryen was not the same father to all his children and it was not the same man they were mourning.

She would spend hours and hours flying and avoiding everyone. In the skies there was nobody to judge how she mourned, how she cried for that family that she felt she deserved, but would now never get, because they were both dead and ash. And with their death, Aegon could marry Rhaenys with no obstacles, which he did as soon as it was deemed acceptable for him to do so. Up there, she could calm her mind. Vhagar was a part of her soul, someone who understood her. She was the smallest of her siblings’ dragons, but easily the most vicious, as Orys liked to laugh about.

Visenya didn’t bother changing from her riding clothes as she made her way to supper. She was starving, but dreaded having to interact with her family. She could hear the lighthearted chatter from the dining hall, but as soon as she walked in, they all fell silent. Aegon, Rhaenys and Orys had ceased whatever banter they were exchanging and had turned their eyes on her. Just this action alone made her angry.

“You’re late.” Aegon spoke up, his eyes looking into hers. Like he had any authority to dictate her time. Orys tensed, but tried to pretend he didn’t. Clearly he knew something that she didn’t, as between the four of them, she was the outsider. She shot Aegon a glare.

“Hardly.” she scoffed. “The food was just brought in, was it not?” she asked, taking a seat across from them, as they had done her the graciousness of sitting next to each other, Rhaenys and Orys at each of Aegon’s side, leaving no space for her to sit next to her husband. They did that a lot. But who was counting?

“Where were you anyway?” Orys asked and took a bite from his food. It was clearly a question all three of them wanted to ask, as Aegon kept looking right at her. Was this their arrangement? Was Orys asking all the questions Aegon wanted to ask, so that he didn’t appear too interested in her life?

“Flying.” she said plainly, and started filling her plate.

“You’ve been flying a lot lately.” Aegon stated, finally turning his gaze to his plate and away from her. Orys chose to stay silent, sensing the rising tension in the room, and Rhaenys did not utter a word, as she silently looked at her food as well. They looked like stupid children.

“And what about it?” she snapped slightly, looking onto his face, daring him to question her. And who was he to do so? Was he relishing in his new title as the Lord of Dragonstone and wishing to get her under control, the way their parents had tried? Or was this some way for him to gain more authority?

“It’s unlike you.” he said after a moment, finally looking at her again. Unlike her? She scoffed again. She wanted so badly to lose her composure and start yelling at him, at all three of them for all the bullshit she had to put up with. She refused to put up with more.

“I wasn’t aware you were keeping track of how often I go flying.” she spat out, her sharp eyes right on him. She knew that he knew what she wanted to say. Rhaenys would spend hours upon hours flying on Meraxes, and he always liked that about her, always praised her for her free spirit and her strong bond with her dragon, but now that Visenya flew more, it was a shock? Fucking hypocrite.

“It’s not like that, Visenya.” he said, his voice gentler, like he could read her thoughts, but she refused to answer him. It was not a question, and so she focused on her food.

She wasn’t even hungry anymore, and she had been starving, up until she entered the room. Perhaps it would be better for her health if she ate alone so that she wouldn’t lose her appetite, but she refused to be set aside, she refused to just step back from her rightful place. The tension was thick in the air, any trace of lighthearted chatter had vanished completely, and everyone could feel it.

“Orys, could you give us a moment?” Aegon asked, giving Orys a look. Rhaenys shuffled in her seat, like she was preparing herself for this moment and Visenya just wanted to laugh. How pathetic they all looked, acting like she was someone they feared this much. No, not fear. Orys cleared his throat.

“Of course.” he nodded and got up. He looked at Rhaenys, giving her a look that wished her luck, before he grabbed a few more pieces of chicken for his plate and left the room. Visenya eyed the two carefully, sitting entirely still. Some called her unnerving even, for how still and quiet she could be. Good.

“We need to talk.” Aegon finally said, when the doors closed behind Orys. Visenya raised a brow, not wanting to ask why he wanted their half-brother out of the room, since he’d be another person on their team, supporting them against her. But perhaps that was it, they didn’t want her to feel too cornered, too attacked, they wanted to appear caring.

“Go on then.” she urged, taking a long sip of wine. Aegon did not like the dismissive tone she held, letting out a small, but noticeable sigh of frustration, as he set down his utensils.

“I mean actually talk. We’re about to embark on the most important mission in our lives, we cannot have rifts or misunderstandings between us.” he spoke slowly, elegantly, in a way that was clear to her that he had rehearsed this beforehand, perhaps while she was with Vhagar in the skies. Some nerve he had, calling this a misunderstanding between them, when she understood a little too well what was happening.

“I thought I had made all my feelings clear to you. But tell me, which part confused you?” she asked him, brow still raised, her voice laced with sarcasm. Her husband did not respond in kind, rather in frustration, while Rhaenys silently looked at her plate. Typical, while her elders spoke.

“Visenya, I told you, I understand your anger, but this cannot go on any longer than it already has. Once we step foot on Westeros, we-”

“We must be united and strong, or they will pick us apart. I know. I’ve no intention of airing out any grievances for anyone else to see or hear.” she finished his sentence for him, catching him a bit off guard. She felt her anger flare up again, hearing him refer to his betrayal as something she just had to get over. She frowned.

“You won’t have to. If you keep it up like this, they’ll all know without you uttering a single word. There can be no cracks, no rifts, Visenya.” A liability, that’s what they saw her as, that’s what she was to them. She stared at Aegon, noting that their little sister seemed so uncomfortable that she wished she had left the room with Orys.

“So it’s my fault then.” she said plainly, trying her best to cling to any calmness left in her. She was never one to be slow to anger, unfortunately for all those around her that tolerated her. Aegon sighed again, shaking his head.

“That is not what I said.” His voice was not as defensive, and this time was much calmer, like he was also trying to control his frustrations with her. All of them were misplaced, since they were all his fault anyway. If he did not betray her, he’d have no grievances to air.

“But it’s what you’re implying, what you’re thinking, what you’re whispering amidst yourselves. I’ll keep my promises, Aegon. I will fight by your side and I will give it my all to see our goals achieved. I keep my oaths, I will not back down or betray you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to bed.” The bed he won’t share, the bed that wasn’t enough, the bed that saw her alone, when her heart stubbornly still yearned for him. She got up and left the room.

This was not the life she had imagined she’d have. She knew it was her birthright to be the Lady of Dragonstone one day, and that had made her happy, because it was something that was hers. And in the end she turned out to be the biggest fool for thinking that all the favouritism would end there. Now, any decision she wanted to make as the lady of Dragonstone, would need to be discussed and agreed upon with Rhaenys, to ‘keep things fair’, as they both shared that title. All the power she was supposed to inherit was now split in half, and that was being generous, because when conflict would arise, and it would, she knew whose side Aegon would be on, who he’d choose if he had to.

She ordered her chambermaid to prepare a bath for her, as Vhagar’s scent clung onto her skin and clothes and hair. She refused to give him any more peace of mind. He did not deserve any. Not when she could not have a moment of peace in her own home. She began undoing her braids while the maid finished up the preparations for her bath, when there was a knock on her door.

She scowled, but wanted to think the best of her husband for a moment, and thought that perhaps he had food sent for her, since she had barely eaten anything that day. Any thoughts of that vanished, when the maid opened the door to reveal her little sister standing there, looking like a child that expected a scolding.

“I wanted to talk to you.” she said softly, looking at the maid expectantly. The older woman turned to look at Visenya, who gave her a slight nod, and left the two sisters alone. She continued to unbraid her hair, turning away from Rhaenys entirely, which seemed to ease her a bit.

“Hurry up then. I’m tired.” she replied bluntly, being in no mood to deal with whatever bullshit her sister came to spew. There was a silence then, and it was like she could feel Rhaenys’ inner monologue, trying to get through whatever rehearsed speech she had come up with Aegon. As if Visenya was an idiot.

“I hate how things have become between us.” she started, not moving from her spot near the door, as she was not given permission to move freely in her elder sister’s room. And she never would be given that permission. As she took another breath, Visenya interrupted her.

“They just came to be like that out of thin air?” she asked, looking at her through the mirror with a raised brow, faking surprise, making Rhaenys frown even more. It was not shame she was feeling, it couldn’t be, it was more like she was expecting her to yell, to lash out at her the way she had lashed out at Aegon before.

“It wasn’t as if I had planned this! I love him, Visenya, I cannot change that, I could not bear to part from him, to be sent off. I’m sorry we hid it, I’m sorry about how it all happened.” Rhaenys pleaded her case, with that sincere look in her eyes she always had when she was pleading with their parents for a new dress. Visenya wanted to laugh, because she seemed to be the only one to see right through her sister’s words.

“You think your excuses are going to move me? You want me to somehow believe that during the moons you two were secretly fucking, that neither of you spared a thought about me?” she asked, her voice stern, but not raised. No. She was not going to give Aegon another reason to coddle her. She wanted to rip all her hair out, but she did not want to give anyone the satisfaction of proof that she was crazy. Rhaenys’ voice did raise its tone.

“Of course I did, we both did! I was never planning to push you aside! This way, things between us could be fair!” she claimed, clasping her hands together as she looked at her elder sister, who did not even turn to face her. Visenya only sneered through the mirror. “I don’t want you to hate me, Visenya. We’re sisters.” she sighed, one final plea, as she dared to walk closer to her. Visenya abruptly got up, her hair finally undone and free from the rigid braids that held them all day long, the sudden movement making Rhaenys flinch.

“It seems we can’t always get what we want. Now get out.” she faced her with an icy scowl, making her sister scurry out of the room without looking back. She was a coward deep down, when she knew she was in the wrong, but still trying to make it seem like it was all done for the best.

She was proud of herself for not lashing out in a violent manner, because by the gods, she was so close to snapping all day long. The bath was good for her nerves, the scalding water working wonders for all her sore muscles. She was training, making strategies, planning things out, and what did she get for it? Nothing. All the praise went to Rhaenys for showing up and being herself. She hated it and she hated them all for it too.

She dressed herself in her robe, and was brushing her hair when another knock came at her door, only this time she did not answer. She just kept brushing, even when Aegon let himself in, closing the doors behind him. She made it a point to ignore him, trying to preserve what little patience she had left. He stood there, by the door, but unlike Rhaenys, he came closer, but not too close.

“Are you going to keep ignoring me?” he asked her softly, his eyes almost holding regret. Had she been younger, more gullible, she might even believe he came here to sincerely apologise. But she was who she was, and she knew dragons did not hold regrets. Not like they should. She just scoffed at him.

“I thought you liked it best that way.” she spat out, brushing through her hair. It was getting longer, much too long to be worn down during the day, but not inconvenient enough for her to chop off. The night was the only time she let it free from the braids. Aegon’s eyes fixated on her hair, on the motion of her hands brushing through it.

“Of course not. How could you think that?” he asked, his tone still soft. She wanted to close her eyes and let his deep voice soothe her, but Visenya was not about to let his words slide just because he spoke them tenderly. She finally turned around to face him as she snapped.

“No. We’re not doing this. This thing you do, where you pretend you don’t understand where I’m coming from, when you know damn well what you did and are doing, Aegon. I’m not in the fucking mood.” she said, giving him an icy stare as she placed the brush onto the table. He did not snap in turn, only shaking his head with his brows furrowed.

“How many times must I apologise to you, for you to finally believe me?” he whispered, trying to walk closer to her, before she sneered again. Just how stupid did he believe she was to believe that his empty words meant something? He might have felt some remorse, yes, but he did nothing to fix the mess he had made of her heart, instead every action of his seemed to have made it worse.

“Just because you keep repeating something, does not magically make it true.” she said bluntly, before she turned her attention back to the items on her vanity, specifically the oils for her hair. Her mother always commented how dry it was, and that it needed all the care it could get to seem presentable. They didn’t have much money, but she’d be damned if she gave anyone reason to scorn her beauty. She was going to be the fucking Queen.

“Visenya…” he sighed again, almost sounding helpless, while she reached for the oil for her hair. The intense scent of patchouli and vanilla filled the air, as she spread the oil all over her hair, while Aegon watched, debating on how to phrase his words next.

“I already told you, I still intend to honour my promise to you. I will not fail you, or our goals.” she said, her tone dismissive, as the conversation was draining to her. She hated that this was one of the few times he came to her chambers, and she hated that it was because he wanted to persuade her to play nice and pretend she was fine with his and Rhaenys’ actions.

“I want you to be happy.” he said, his sincerity catching her off guard for a moment, but she was quick to give him a look of disappointment. She scoffed at him, at his attempts in flattery, at the fact that he was either blind or stupid or both at the same time.

“Do you? You have a funny way of showing it.” she spat out, turning away from him once more, focusing on getting the oil to be even in her hair. Happy. What a last ditch effort at gaining some sympathy. If he wanted her to be happy, he wouldn’t have betrayed her over and over, and yet here he was before her.

“Berate me all you want, I deserve it. But do not take your anger out on her.” he said, his tone still soft. Oh, but of course. Why else would he bother to show up to her room? She almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. It was like they all relished in making her feel crazy for her reactions to their disrespect.

“Why? Did she accidentally trip and fall onto your cock, continuously, for moons, all behind my back? Awfully convenient.” she said in a deadpan voice, reaching for the bigger bottle that held the oil meant for her body, before he spoke up again.

“She’s trying to make it up somehow, if only you allowed her to-” Before he could finish his defence of their little sister, Visenya got up, the slam of the bottle making him stop in his tracks, perhaps in surprise that it did not crack.

“Unless she’s planning to annul your marriage and take the husband father had intended for her, then there’s nothing she can do to make it up to me. Her tears might work to sway you and Orys, just as they did our parents, but I’m not falling for it.” she snapped, finally turning her full attention on her husband, who was looking at her with wide eyes, like a surprised animal. It almost made her laugh. “What? Did she come crying to you that I was mean to her and that I hurt her feelings, and that she already feels bad enough as it is but I just keep being a rigid cunt about this, so you came here to make me be nice to her?” she asked, her voice dripping with cruel sarcasm, as Aegon was starting to lose his patience.

“Must you always do this? Fuck, Visenya, I’m really trying here!” he snapped at last, running his hand through his hair. There it was. Loving her is something he has to try to do. Not something natural and easy and smooth. It wasn’t like the love she felt for him, as natural as breathing, as intense and strong and loyal as a dragon’s flame.

“What exactly are you trying to do, Aegon? Do you think I’m blind, stupid, or deaf? You are all acting like I’m the problem!” she snapped back, any peace that the hot bath brought her, now gone and forgotten. All the frustration she held in, had no more places to hide.

“We’re about to embark on the most difficult journey, to war, and you refuse to let this go! You keep acting like Rhaenys is some horrid villain-”

“Oh, our poor baby sister! She cannot find a way to protect or defend herself, so she needs you to protect her from her crazy sister! Poor little Rhaenys, gods help her!” she mocked, placing a hand over her heart. How ironic that she was the problem that he felt needed to be addressed, and not the pathetic weakness their little sister had. He’d claim she was strong in her own way, or some bullshit like that.

“No one is calling you crazy! Fuck! We’re all just trying to make this situation better!” he finally raised his voice, his movements betraying more and more frustration with each word. Visenya did not say a word for a bit, slowly walking up to him, the intense scent of the oil making his nostrils flare, as he was forced to take it in due to the proximity. She stood so close to him that she could feel his breath on her face, as she looked up at him.

“I hope she does to you what you did to me. When you’re all content and happy, I hope one day you walk in on her fucking another man. I hope it’s on your own bed, I hope it’s when you’re the most in love, I hope it hurts you the way you hurt me.” she said so calmly, that she even surprised herself. A curse, spoken softly and gently.

Aegon stood there, silent, stoic as ever, with a frown on his face. It would almost be funny if it did not hurt her. Did he think he was above their little sister’s selfishness? Sure, he loved her free-spirit now, but what about when she’d get bored and decide she wanted to try something, someone new? She betrayed her older sister, why not betray her older brother? Perhaps it was the fact that she was the youngest, the apple of their parents’ eye, but whatever it was that made her so, Rhaenys was not one to keep her attention on one thing for too long. Was this the moment Aegon was going to realise it? He had always been willfully blind to their sister’s faults.

Visenya scoffed, turning around to return to her vanity, ready for the day to be over, when Aegon grabbed hold of her hand to prevent her from doing so. She shot him a glare before yanking her hand away, but he walked closer to her regardless.

“I don’t want things to be like this between us, Visenya.” he sighed, grabbing her face in his hands, gently as he could, so that she would not turn away again. She scowled at him, but did not move an inch.

“You are the one who made things like this between us. Never forget that.” she said, her voice accusing and strong. She stood still, wondering just what her stupid little brother was trying to do. Did he think a kiss would make her forget? Or that a night would make her forgive?

“I know…” he said softly, his eyes looking into hers with regret. “I know, Visenya, I’m sorry.” he was almost pleading, but she did not relent. She did not offer him any words of comfort, for he did not deserve them from her mouth. She was never one for empty words, for little white lies, for things with no substance. If he wanted her forgiveness, he’d have to work hard for it. And it seemed like that’s what he wished to do.

He kissed her and kissed her, in a way that was both tender and firm. She did not push him away from her, but made sure to leave lasting marks on him. Proof of her lips onto his neck and collarbone, proof of her nails all over his back, her scent mixed with his, as he took off her robe to help her apply all the oil on her body as she always did after a bath. And as he laid on the bed next to her, trying to catch his breath, Visenya could smell her perfumed oil all over him, his skin and hair.

Good. She hoped Rhaenys could smell her all over him, when he went to crawl back to her rooms, ashamed he couldn’t get Visenya on their side of this mess. Only Aegon did not leave. He held her tightly in his embrace, like he was expecting her to push him off, to shove him away and yell at him some more, or draw Dark Sister to fight him. But Visenya also remained there, trying to memorise his breathing and the rhythm of his heart beating.

She wondered if this was real, genuine, or if he only did this to get her to mellow out, or worse, if he did it out of pity and guilt. She wondered if the whole time he was thinking of their sister, and it fucking hurt.

She didn’t want to think any more for the night. It hurt too much. For now, she’d just pretend it was real and genuine, that the kisses he was pressing on her temple were out of love, that he loved her and her alone. She closed her eyes and dreamed that they stayed that way, the lord and lady of Dragonstone.

Rowan found her in the morning, still in Rhaenys’ room. She looked exhausted in a way she’d never seen before. Travel was not the cause, as she had always managed to look more than presentable after long trips, and this one only took a few days. She knew why, she always did. Visenya did not sleep, and did not notice the fact that it was now early morning.

“You could not sleep?” Rowan asked, her tired eyes full of concern as she looked around. She had never been in this room, and it concerned her that Visenya had suddenly found herself in here, in her dead sister’s room.

“No, I have much on my mind. I needed a walk, to clear my thoughts, to focus.” she explained, getting up from the couch, to properly greet the young girl. She embraced her, finding comfort in her arms, but as they parted, her green eyes studied her face carefully.

“And you found yourself in here?” she asked softly, carefully, not to alert any maids or servants. “You look exhausted, you must rest.” she concluded, trying to urge the Dowager Queen to go to her own room, as she knew this one would not bring her any comfort, but Visenya remained still.

“I could say the same for you. When was the last time you slept, my girl?” she asked, as she took in her appearance. Rowan’s curls seemed to be more frizzy and dishevelled, her eyes having a red tint to them, from crying and lack of sleep no doubt, and her complexion was paler than ever. No, this would not do. She was not letting the girl who was her daughter in all but name and blood, waste away because of her own mistakes.

“I did sleep, I swear. But can you blame me?” she asked and Visenya shook her head.

“Of course not.” she sighed. “Come, sit, we have a lot to discuss.” she said softly, leading Rowan back to where she had been sat. The room was dark, as there were no candles nor furnace lit, but Rowan dutifully followed her anyway. “I’m sure you’ve got many questions.” she opened the conversation for her, allowing her to lead the way.

“You’ve been planning this for a long time.” she stated, looking down to the floor and taking a deep breath. “Since when?” she asked. “Since when did Maegor know?” her voice was soft, but fragile, her eyes desperate for answers. Visenya held her hand.

“I’ve been planning this since before he was born.” she revealed, and Rowan did not seem surprised. It appeared now that a lot of things were making sense to her. She nodded. “It was always meant to be Aegon and I’s son that was meant to sit the throne. I will not let my only son be overshadowed by hers, I will not let her steal from me again.” she stopped herself from going on a rant, as Rowan had heard her rants countless times before. “He’s always known, deep down, but I did not sit him down to tell him until he was knighted, until he was old enough to know the gravity of everything.” she explained.

“And Aenys? What of him, and his children? By the law, it’s Aegon that will inherit the throne.” she asked, almost afraid of the answer, but Visenya shook her head.

“Maegor has a lot of support, more than Aenys does, I’d say. With everything happening, the people saw who the capable leader was, and so did Aenys.” Visenya said, frowning as she thought back to her nephew’s poor decisions. They did all end up working in her favour, but they were no less frustrating by bringing so much shame onto their house.

“You planned for him to hand over the crown?” Rowan asked, her face still one of concern. Visenya sighed, nodding. As smart as she was, Rowan was too kind, too gentle in her heart. She saw how Aenys was, and yet she still hoped he’d get better.

“You’ve seen him, Rowan, he’s ready to crack. He’s not meant for this, he does not have what it takes. That way he can do as he pleases and be out of our hair when it comes to actual ruling. Now with his children, there won’t be much of a concern in due time.”

“Hence why Maegor was so insistent on getting an heir as soon as he could.” Rowan finished the sentence for her and the former Queen nodded. It seemed to fully click in the young girl’s mind, that all of Maegor’s actions served this purpose. Perhaps it was clearer now than ever in her eyes.

“Yes. Exactly.” Visenya crossed her arms, shaking her head. “And that’s why he did this. Do not mistake this for blind support, I was not in favour of him bringing that girl to Dragonstone without any notice, but Ceryse was not able to fall pregnant as soon as she needed to.” she said, knowing that Rowan had a lot of love for the Hightower girl. She did not hate her, no, but she was still a stranger to her, despite living in the same keep for a year. Visenya did not trust easily.

“And if she does?” Rowan asked. “What if she becomes pregnant after Alys? How would the succession go then?”she asked, looking at her for an answer. “If you are setting the law in stone that the son of the first wife is the one to inherit, regardless of age, then it is Ceryse’s son you’ll be supporting.” Visenya smiled, glad that she understood.

“Rowan, I have no interest in punishing your friend. You think I want this Alys girl to be the next Queen mother? Of course Ceryse’s son will be the heir. When she has one. For now, all we want is at least one heir, for Maegor’s line to be secured. Then we’ll set the law in order.” she reassured her, grabbing hold of her hand once more.

“What will happen once he returns? You want him to return soon, to give a show of power, do you not?” she asked. Visenya’s gaze softened. She looked so small, so exhausted from the turmoil that this all brought to her, and hopeful that the answers would bring her some peace. She hoped she could grant her some.

“Yes. He’ll put an end to the foolish rebels, and take the crown, with Aenys’ blessing or not.” she assured her. As if she’d let her son’s reign have as much chaos as her nephew’s did. “Ceryse will be crowned as his Queen consort, she will not be set aside. All she has to do is support him and his claim.” she added, knowing this was her next question.

“With her, Oldtown will follow, and solidify him as the true heir.” Rowan stated, moreso thinking out loud. Visenya nodded.

“Exactly.” she said softly. She didn’t add anything else, waiting for everything to settle in her mind. It was a lot and she could tell. Perhaps it would’ve been better to summon her father, as he would’ve surely helped put her mind at ease. He understood Rowan had nothing to fear from Maegor’s reign.

“Who… who is Tyanna?” Rowan asked after some time in the silence. Visenya reached for her hand, squeezing it. So far all of Rowan’s questions were practical, structural, but they both knew her heart was also in this. A huge factor, in fact.

“According to Maegor, a woman with an extensive web of spies, someone he says will aid his claim and ascension greatly.” she recounted all she knew of this mysterious woman. She reached in the pocket of her robe, pulling out the letter she had been reading all of last night. “He wrote back, begged me to give it to you.” she added softly, letting Rowan take it from her hands.

She read it slowly, over and over and over again, trying to make sense of Maegor’s rushed and panicked words, trying to understand the why. Gods, she wanted to fly to Pentos to throw something heavy at him. Seeing her girl so close to tears over this, knowing she had been losing sleep, it fueled that anger even more.

“And what will happen to me? When he returns? Am I to remain in court?” Rowan asked, her voice soft and exhausted, and unsure. Visenya studied her expression, her eyes specifically. Her eyes always gave her away. She was heartbroken from everything, but there was no doubt that her heart still yearned for him. She could not blame her, not when Visenya had kept on loving Aegon, of all people.

“Do you not wish to remain in the Capital?” she asked, her tone comforting.

“I… I don’t know anymore.” Rowan confessed, the uncertainty and instability being too much for her. Visenya frowned. She wanted Rowan by her side, for she trusted nor loved no other, but she did not want her to suffer. Perhaps seeing him again will be too painful for her, perhaps she missed her home, perhaps she needed time.

“It is my wish to have you by my side as long as I can, perhaps selfishly so, but if you wish to return to your home, I will fly you there myself.” she promised, moving closer to embrace her fully. “I want you to have a good life, Rowan, and if you feel you must leave to have that, I will not stand in your way.” she whispered softly, wanting to reassure her that she loved her, that she wanted what was best for her, despite everything.

“I love you. I do not wish to leave your side, but… I don’t know what life will be like when he returns, when your plans fall into place…” Rowan’s voice was unsure, confused even.

“He will not do anything to you, nothing you won’t want.” Visenya assured once again, holding both of Rowan’s hands. The young girl’s eyes widened at the implication, in a way that would normally make Visenya chuckle.

“I wouldn’t want such a thing.” Rowan said and the former Queen nodded. Of course, Rowan would never wish to do anything that would be dishonourable or sinful by her gods, but Visenya would not fault her if she allowed Maegor’s affections.

“I know, my girl.” she smiled. She thought, while another small silence fell in the room. There was something on her mind for a long time now, and she thought now would be a good time to ask. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” the young girl replied, dutifully, honestly.

“Why not marry him when he returns? You love him, he loves you, why keep torturing yourself like this? Once he returns, things will be different, he will be King, and no one would dare oppose him.” Visenya asked, her voice and tone both vulnerable and raw. She wished to understand her better, to let her know there was another way for her to be happy. A way that was, albeit, wrong in the young girl’s eyes, but for how long could she stand it?

“You already know my answer…” Rowan said, sadness in her eyes. Visenya nodded. She knew Rowan loved him so much, it would be hard for her to know that there were other women who called themselves his wives.

“You’ll hardly be sharing him at all. You know this.” she added, almost trying to persuade her, to pull her out of the misery she had been drowning in ever since Maegor was wed to Ceryse. Visenya could feel her own hypocrisy all around her. They were sitting in Rhaenys’ room, while she had spent a whole night reminiscing in all the hatred and resentment she had felt over the years for all her actions, and yet she was now encouraging Rowan to follow in her younger sister’s footprints. And yet she shook her head, almost in disgust.

“That still would not make things right. I can never be at peace knowing there’s two other women he has sworn sacred vows to, let alone the fact that Ceryse is my closest friend. If she is to be his Queen, I shall stand by her, not compete against her.” she explained, and it was like a weight was lifted from Visenya’s chest. She was not like Rhaenys. Not at all. Still, she felt the need to assure her even more.

“Do you think she has any love for him? You will not be robbing her of anything. If she comes in conflict with this Alys girl, she’ll have another Queen by her side to support her.” she explained in turn, since Rowan’s biggest concern was the wellbeing of her friend. If anything, she’d be doing Ceryse a favour in getting rid of the duty to share Maegor’s bed, since Ceryse disliked him so much.

“I cannot. It just feels so wrong and messed up. No matter how much I love him, and I love him more than anything, I will not go against my gods.” Rowan explained, this time her voice more firm and sure. Despite never believing in the Seven, Visneya admired her for her certainty, for her devotion to them and what they represented. She would not push her further.

“Rowan, you’ll have free reign to do as you please, Queen or not. You can still support your friend, if that’s what you wish. He’s willing to do anything to get back into your good graces.” Visenya laughed slightly, but still wanting to get across the amount of power that was to fall into Rowan’s hands, once her son was crowned King. “Make him work for it.” she smiled. Rowan almost gave a small smile too.

“You can support her too.” she said after some more time. Visenya raised a brow.

“Depends. In what?” she asked, waiting for the young girl to explain.

“In what she’d wish to do as Queen. With her, you’ll have the Faith and Oldtown on your side, the two factors your house has slighted the most. And she’s most capable of being Queen, if you could set aside your dislike, which I will never understand, you’ll see it too.” Rowan said, sounding much more confident and certain than ever before. Visenya smiled at that. There she was, there was the smart and capable girl she knew.

“I have been unfair to her. I can admit that. I’ve had it so certain in my mind that it would’ve been you, that by now you’d be living here with us, starting your own family, before he eventually took the crown.” she admitted, allowing herself to be vulnerable, knowing that the person who understood her the most was sitting right in front of her. “I seem to be doing that a lot lately, losing myself into how things should’ve been.” she sighed.

“I do that too.” Rowan whispered, looking down almost in shame. “I keep dreaming of this life I cannot have, of the family I wish were mine, but I cannot keep doing this. It hurts. It always hurts me so much.” she confessed, shaking her head. Visenya knew that exhaustion all too well. But she had faith in her, she knew she had it in her to persevere.

“Come here, my girl, come here. It’ll get better, I know it.” she said, pulling her into another warm embrace. Now she felt more confident than ever, knowing that Rowan was on her side. She knew her son’s reign was coming, and she had plans to make sure it would bring their house to glory.

taglist:@heartstalked@stupidocupido@discowizard88@slytherisstuff

#maegor targaryen #maegor targaryen x oc #maegor the cruel #visenya targaryen x aegon targaryen #visenya targaryen #visenya the conqueror #controversial conqueror dynamics i guess besties #im alive wow

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elizxbethofyork · 5 months

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a rhaena targaryen story ♛ hope is a dangerous thing 2/2 inspo and gifs by @queensend

warning! depictions of incest, harsh language, murder, violence, abusive relationships, and mentions of rape

It had been a fortnight since that eventful night, the night her husband made her sing, and the night the witch Tyanna died. He had made a vow to place a prince in her womb, a prince he would never have, and yet he did not return to her bed. It was a relief knowing she was safe from his touch for some time, but it only consumed Rhaena with anxiety and panic. She played with the rings on her fingers and soothed herself at night with Valyrian songs, but it did nothing to calm her restlessness. Rhaena was a prisoner, a caged dragon, she did not know what occurred in the realm or even within the Red Keep. She was starved of information about her family and her daughter’s well-being. She pleaded with maids and servants who entered her chambers but no one would tell her anything, all of them fearful of the King. But their silence, her husband’s absence, and small council meetings dealing with traitors told her something was amiss.

Her paranoia made her more observant, she watched as the chambermaids cleaned her rooms and brought her meals. Day and night, she stopped begging and simply watched them. It was then she noticed how ten became seven, seven became five, and five became three. It was slowly becoming more and more obvious: servants slowly disappearing, the castle halls losing all sound until it was utter silence. Maegor’s tight grip on Westeros was suffocating and he was losing his hold on control, his hold on power, and his hold on the iron throne. But he shielded her from it, and she wondered if he truly only acted as such to hide the truth from her or himself. For a man that prides himself on strength, it would be hard for him to accept the reality, that he was not worthy of the iron throne.

The silence Rhaena had become accustomed to over the weeks had come to an erupt end, she would soon be in the company of her husband.

What little remained of the servants and handmaidens emerged as they stormed upon her chambers after midday. They swept and cleaned the rooms, fed the fire in the hearth, and changed the old bedsheets for new clean linens. Rhaena simply watched from the window seat in the alcove, it wasn't until they brought a large copper bath that she questioned their motives.

“We work by His Majesty’s orders. He wishes to be with your Grace tonight, and commands for the rooms to be cleaned and for us to attend to you, my Queen”, the old household maid replied sternly.

She knew this would come, she knew he would return to her, he always did. No matter where she went Maegor would always find her.

The shrew of a woman resumed her work and ordered the servants around the room. Rhaena turned her head and looked to the skies, not a single cloud in sight. A storm is brewing.

The old woman snapped Rhaena from her musing, “Shall her Grace, remove her gown and enter the bath? Or does my Queen need assistance in that as well?”. Her small suspicious eyes examined Rhaena from head to toe, reminding her of the Dowager Queen Visenya.

Rhaena relented and submitted to their will, as she had done since returning to city. She glared at the old woman. Were she a true dragon she would have bathed the old woman in Dragonfire, but she couldn't and she mustn't, she must save her whatever fire she had left for an even worse evil. They stripped her of her gown and the chemise underneath, until she stood bare in front of them. Their eyes staring and prodding as if they were skinning her to find something hidden deeper underneath. All they would find is a sleeping dragon.

The bronze tub was filled with steaming hot water, the room was filled with spiced and floral scents from the expensive Lyseni oils. The maids washed her sliver hair with utter delicacy, but scrubbed her skin raw until it was red. They dressed her in a soft white shift made from Myrish lace, and applied drops of perfume on her neck and wrists. Her long hair was left to dry freely without any braids but was brushed with an ivory comb. All of them gifts from her husband, all of them made to bring him pleasure.

When Rhaena looked at her reflection in the looking glass, she couldn’t recognize herself; she saw a meek, submissive, and fragile wife, nothing like the dragon princess she once was. It was already nightfall, and her hand’s trembled. A dragon does not fear, she reminded herself, a dragon does not fear. She has lain with him numerous times before, another night would be nothing.

When the young maid attending her laid her hands on top of her shaking ones, she all but shrieked. The young mousy girl looked around the room, making sure no one was watching, no was looking. She placed a small vial into her hands, and looked up into Rhaena’s eyes with pity, “For the pain, your Grace”, she whispered.

A dragon does not fear, she repeated, but she was afraid. “What pain? What is this?”, she all but sobbed looking down at the vial in her palm.

“Milk of the poppy, Your Grace”, the maid whispered, she stopped to looked around once again. She’s paranoid and scared, just like me, Rhaena thought. “His Majesty has been in a rage and wrathful since he heard of your brother, Jaehaerys’ proclamation. Of the uprising and rebellion he is inciting. He will surely be rough with you this night, a few drops would numb the pain that is to come, all of it will be as if it never happened”.

A warmth bloomed within her chest, but before Rhaena could thank the stranger. She bowed and scurried away. She looked to small vial once again, her mind racing with the news she just heard. Her observations were right, he’s loosing his power, his control. Maegor is loosing the iron throne to a boy of four and ten, she could almost laugh. The warmth in her chest grew and she didn’t notice the smile forming on her lips, hope was a strange thing.

“If that was all, my Queen, by your leave”, the old woman hissed, but she had no fire for the crone - only a smile.

“I would have wine brought before His Majesty arrives. Not a Dornish vintage, however, but Arbor gold. Only the finest for our King”, she commanded with sweetness in her voice, hope in her heart, and madness in her mind.

The old woman nodded curtly and with her maids, all of them left the rooms after bowing before Rhaena.

The Arbor gold she had ordered was brought before her swiftly upon a golden platter with two golden chalices. When she was finally alone, Rhaena rushed toward the tray of wine. She poured herself a cup and swallowed the sweet liquid down. She played with the vial in hand, thinking about all the possibilities. A few drops for numbness, and the entirety for oblivion. When she made her decision and filled both goblets with wine. Seven drops of poppy for herself, and the rest for her husband. It was madness, it was hope, and the poppy gave her a sense of courage.

Rhaena sat on the edge of the large feather bed. Her fingers traced the stitching of luxurious bedding, while she cradled her wine in her lap. The thoughts and ideas rushed through her mind. It would be dangerous, but it was hope. The hope of freedom, the hope of living, the hope of her daughters alive and thriving. The best battle plans are planned, thought out thoroughly, and executed at a certain time; however, some plans are made during the moment in the heat of battle. Her purple eyes scoured the room, she heard the whispers of the passageways, and if there was a way out of her room, there was a way to find Aerea and escape the castle. However, if she were to escape the city she would need Dreamfyre —.

The sound of the doors to her prison unlocking pulled her out of her thoughts, and she was greeted by the sight of her husband. She rose from the bed instantly and lowered her gaze. The sound of his boots echoed against the walls as he approached her. She could feel the warmth of his presence, could smell the scent of his person: it was a pungent fragrance of rosemary used to conceal the other scents of ash and blood. His hands are large, rough, and calloused from the years of wielding a sword and dragon-riding; and yet his touch was gentle and cautious when they brushed against her cheek. When she lifted her gaze, her purple met his cold lavender, and yet she saw something else in his eyes, she could not name it but she feared it.

Maegor towered over her, he couldn't stop touching her, and his eyes continued to ensnare her. With a wicked grin on his face, one which she desired to slap off, he asked, “Have you missed my company, wife?”.

She held his gaze and answered sweetly and obediently, “Yes, Your Grace. A fortnight passed since I last been in your presence, it’s a great joy to see you, for it’s you all I thought of since” – thinking of all the ways to kill you.

The hum of approval she received as a reply, told her it was exactly what he wanted to hear. His hand gripped her nightgown, his fingers feeling the material of the fabric. He took the chalice from her hand and he drank what remained of her wine. His expression changed then, confusion grew on the lines of his face. He looked into the cup with suspicion.

She froze when she saw the look on his face, and in a panic she responded before he even asked, “Arbor gold, Your Grace. You expressed a dislike for the Dornish vintage, so I ask the maids to bring us the finest the Reach has to offer”.

He softened at her reply, and placed the chalice back into her hands. “Then you must bring me another cup, wife”.

She nodded and lowered her gaze, she walked towards the tray of wine and could feel his ever-burning gaze. When she turned to look back, she saw him whilst he was undressing. He gave her a savage grin when he caught her gaze, she smiled sourly. Rhaena placed the empty cup on the tray and focused on the special one she prepared just for him. Her knuckles turned white when she tightly gripped the chalice, anxiety, and fear rolling in her stomach threatening to her ill. She took a sip of the wine, praying for numbness, praying for courage, praying for the strength to do whatever she needed to survive. A dragon does not fear. She took a deep breath and returned to his side as a very loving wife.

She placed the golden chalice – as well as her fate, in his enormous hands. Her fingers lingered on his arms, caressing him with a softness. Her purple eyes flickered up and looked up at him with a longing through her lashes. She walked away towards the large bed seductively, knowing he was watching her every move. Rhaena slid the shift off her shoulders, allowing the thin fabric to pool at her feet, leaving her all exposed to Maegor.

Rhaena looked back him with a mischievous smile, “Shall we go to bed, husband?”.

Maegor’s hungry gaze was all she needed as an answer. He drowned the cup of wine and threw the chalice to the side. In what seemed to be mere seconds, he was grabbing her to his side and devoured her in a ravenous kiss. They were wild and harsh kisses that bruised her lips. All of her husband’s kisses left bruises on her body. He kissed her until they were gasping for air, his hands were touching every inch of skin on her body from groping her ass to her breasts. The poppy seemed to work for whilst he found pleasure, she found numbness.

“I missed your touch, I missed your scent, I missed the taste of you”, he mumbled against her ear.

Soon she was off her feet and on her back, like a common whore. His hands held her down against the soft silk bedding, and his tongue on the swell of her breast. She responded to his harsh hands with scratches and bite marks. He suckled her breasts as if he were a babe, drawing out unwanted gasps and moans, as he left her nipples red and hard. She loathed the way her body reacted, the sounds she made, for it all brought him pleasure. He should enjoy it while it lasts.

She could feel the thickness of his manhood against her inner thigh, “No”, she yelled, knowing what he intended to do. He looked up from her breasts like an upset child.

Her breath heavied with fear, she ran her fingers through his silver hair, and she pulled him into a kiss. “Let me, Maegor”, she whispered against his lips.

Rhaena mounted him as if he were Dreamfyre and rode him as such — she hadn't ridden her mount in weeks and a little practice wouldn't hurt, Rhaena thought. But when she looked down, it wasn't the blue dragon that she saw between her thighs but her husband and she only felt even more disgusted than before. She could feel his firm grip on her skin as his hands wandered from her hips to her full breasts — knowing that bruises would cover her pale skin by daylight. So she closed her eyes, trying to ignore his repulsive touch, and thought of something else more pleasant. Rhaena thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to kill him right there and then. She wished to take a Valyrian steel dagger and plunge it into his blackened heart, and stab him over and over again. She would relish in the feeling of both his cock inside her and his blood all over her — she could easily imagine the feeling of the warm red substance dripping over her naked skin. And it was such an exciting image in her mind that she felt herself reaching her peak, and as she did so she sunk her nails deeply into his chest, she could hear his deep groans of pain or pleasure, she did not care for it only added to her fantasy.

When she reached ecstasy, she cried out a moan of pleasure. However, the feeling passed when she opened her eyes, the dream had ended, and Rhaena met Maegor’s cold lustful gaze instead of the looks of agony and surprise she had imagined. Her body was scalding, beads formed on her brow as sweat slicked upon her back. Her breathing heavied as did the feeling in her breast from the vigorous riding, but the burning stare between the two remained.

It was in the silence that they share when he flip her over onto her back, for Maegor was both aroused and frustrated — he was losing his power and grip on the throne so he wouldn't allow such a thing in the marriage bed. He began thrusting into her vigorously and harder. She used this to her advantage and kissed him savagely, biting down on his lip and drawing blood into her mouth, and she even moaned his name serval times. All of it made his blood boil hotter, allowing his mind to be fogged by burning arousal and the poppy milk. He continue to fuck her multiple times throughout the night until he was utterly and completely spent. With one finally thrust he spilled inside of her, filling her with his seed, believing he had made a little princling that night. Maegor collapsed on top of her, his head once more lying between her breasts as he tried to catch his breath.

“A little princeling was certainly made this night”, he muttered against her skin. Over my dead body, Rhaena thought.

He kissed her once more before rolling over to the other side of the bed. He closed his eyes and allowed sleep to claim him. His breathing heavied, she watched as his chest rise and fall. Rhaena didn't know how long she watched him but she waited, waited until she absolutely certain he was deeply asleep. It wasn't until she heard the first sound of thunder that she risen from the bed. She quickly and quietly dressed into her riding leathers as she continued to watch Maegor. She had fucked him into oblivion, she smiled at the thought, of how the mighty have fallen. She made may to his discarded clothing and began to search his garments for the map detailing his hidden passageway. Her key to freedom. She had found it and the hidden entrance in the room, she should of left then and there. But she couldn't help herself.

Rhaena turned back to Maegor’s sleeping form, she leaned over him and whispered into his ear, “I found my release to the image of your dead body. I hope you die screaming”. He only mumbled in regards as a response and moved to sleep on his side.

As she begins to make her escape a glint of steel catches her eyes — Blackfrye. It was the sword of the Targaryen kings, Maegor’s most prized possession, but most of all it was her beloved grandfather’s sword. The heavy Valyria steel sword rested against the fireplace, the rubies in its sheath and hilt shining as if made from the fire itself. Maegor had propped it there when he'd entered, but she'd been too consumed with her task to notice until now. Now, it seems to call to her.

With her family’s ancestral sword in hand, she slipped threw the walls of her prison: to the arms of her daughter, to the wings of Dreamfyre, to the sweet embrace of freedom. Her husband should have known better, hope is a dangerous thing.

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darkestspring · 1 year

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LISTEN TO ME!!!! yandere!maegor with yandere!sister, she is aenys twin and his COMPLETE opposite, she's unhinged just like maegor. after aenys dies, visenya tells her that maegor is coming back from his exile to be crowned king. his sister was always completely obsessed with maegor, but aenys never had let them be together bc maegor is insane (but so is she). maegor comes back, she wants to be is queen, BUT he comes back with tyanna and they are already married. maegor marries sister too, obviously, but that doesn't stop him from continuing to marry more and more women. his sister hates his other wives, so she kills them one by one, like poisoned or "accidentally", so she can have maegor all for herself.

at the end, he knows she was the one who killed them, and he loves her even more for that.

i'm so sorry if i'm annoying you, that's my third ask and i already feel like it's too much

YOU'RE NOT BOTHERING ME AT ALL!!! I LEGIT GET SO EXCITED WHEN I SEE YOUR ASKS!!!

this reeks of "im crazy" "yeah well im crazier!" and i love it so much

oh god, the absolute jealousy, reader would purposely put his wives in situations that earn his ire while she's the perfect little angle that he has mostly sons with. she'll goad them into hurting her so she can cry about it to maegor and he knows what she's doing but will play along and punish the other wives

she's the definition of angelic behavior when that one person is present but absolute evil when they're not. when maegor and visenya (bc she doesn't want her mommy to see a bad side of her) she's an angel, getting along so well with the wives and being such a doting and kind queen but when they're not, she goading on the other wives and literally insulting them but with pretty words so its veery easy for visenya and maegor to defend her bc they don't see her craziness even tho maegor knows its there

#THIS IS LEGIT SO FUNNY CANNOT STOP LAUGHING #yandere house of the dragon #yandere maegor targaryen x reader #yandere maegor targaryen #maegor targaryen x reader #yandere hotd #ur mind?????? im obsessed

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alannybunnue · 1 year

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Maegor's First Wife:

Someone *cough*Tyanna again*cough* tries to poison the reader this time after the attempted assassinations of Maegor's heir. She survives thankfully, while she's asleep the maester tells Maegor how lucky they are that she and the baby managed to survive.

Maegor had no idea she was pregnant and that fact just intensifies his rage over the situation. He swears to find out who attempted to take his favorite wife and new child from him.

I am suprised that Tyanna is still alive.

That is the world's record for tricking Maegor

Luckily, not for long, also, to tell you all that this man already has 5 kids in total with the reader, 2 from before he got her back and more 3 after they remarried.

6th one is a charm huh?

#ask #yandere concept #a song of ice and fire #yandere x reader #house of the dragon #yandere imagine #house targaryen #maegor i #maegor the cruel x reader

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sunnyhvnny · 1 year

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I know this has been done before but I adore Maegor with a sunshine wife 😭. Like he’s big mean cruel person and in comes his wife who’s the the human embodiment of the sun. Like she’s not naive to what Maegor does she’s fully aware of his personality, but she saw him and was like yup that’s the one for me ☝🏽😊. She successfully pulls thee Maegor the cruel. She’s this big ball of sunshine and Maegor absolutely adores her. Heaven forbid someone makes her cry or physically hurts her. (I’m looking at you Tyanna and the court too 😬)

She’d be so warm and fuzzy. Maegor would tell her he had to go and tear the limbs off of some lowly lord and she’d wish him luck.

Everyone around him would wonder why there’s a flower in his hair as he’s beheading a guy but most people know his wife sunshine wife put it there and the other people are just to afraid to ask.

Maegor: “I have to behead a man.”

Sunshine Wife: “Have fun, don’t make too much of a mess!”

#sunny speaks #maegor thoughts

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asoiafandotherbooks · 5 months

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TWOIAF/Fire & Blood: Aegon Sulks, Rhaena Gives Birth, Maegor's Builds, And Tyanna Whispers

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

Maegor had made himself king, decimated the Faith, and taken a third wife.

Aegon, the former heir presumptive, has remained in Casterly Rock with Rhaena, his pregnant wife.

Almost everyone who accompanied the duo on their progress has abandoned them to swear fealty to Maegor, The only one to remain was Alayne Royce, Melony Piper, a former favorite of Rhaena, has arrived at Lannisport with her brothers to swear the loyalty of House Piper to Aegon.

Aegon is in a mood. He can’t grasp how his life went so wrong. One day he is the heir apparent, beloved of the smallfolk. The next day he is reviled by the Faith and abandoned by his friends and supporters.

Maegor’s supporters claimed Aegon was as weak as his father (Aenys). He’s not even a dragonrider! Aegon was referred to as the “Pretender” or “Aegon the Uncrowned”.

I can understand why no one is jumping up to support Aegon. First, Aenys was weak. There is nothing to suggest Aegon would be any different – he grew up pampered – how is he going to fight this war? Second, the Faith – which is dominant in the South – has radicalized the population against the Targaryens. Not many would risk their souls in a time era with heavy religious overtones. Third, Maegor has Balerion and Vhagar! Aegon’s side only has Dreamfyre, a rather young dragon. There is still a sizable population that were alive during the Conquest – they remember what those dragons are capable of! Maegor had demonstrated that he has no issue with unleashing Balerion. I don’t blame anyone for saying “no thank you” when it comes to this fight.

Lyman Lannister, the Lord of Casterly Rock, remained firm in his refusal to return Aegon and Rhaena to King’s Landing but refused to pledge his sword to Aegon.

I respect Lyman. It takes courage to tell Maegor the Cruel “no, I won’t be returning Aegon and Rhaena to King’s Landing”. Yes, Lyman has Casterly Rock and, yes, Visenya thought it might be difficult to take it but difficult is not impossible. Lyman is taking a risk that Balerion and Vhagar won’t show up at the Rock and perform a Harrenhal, part 2. Lyman is wise in not pledging his forces to Aegon’s cause. It has only been 40 or so years since the Field of Fire – Lyman must have heard the story from his father or grandfather of what occurred that day. The Westerlands have first -hand experience with the power of Balerion and Vhagar.

Rhaena gave birth to twin daughters at Casterly Rock, named Aerea and Rhaella. The High Septon wasted no time declaring the twins “abominations, fruits of lust and incense, accursed of the gods”.

Rhaena begged Aegon to take their family across the Narrow Sea to “Tyrosh or Myr or Volantis” for “I would gladly give up my own life to make you king, but I will not put our girls at risk”.

This is an interesting “What If?”. How would history have been changed if Aegon, Rhaena, and the twins fled across the Narrow Sea? Would Maegor have pursued the family? Would the family have become an early era Blackfyres with their descendants leading invasions and rebellions? The family would only have one dragon – would Dreamfyre have hatched eggs at any point?

Helaena Targaryen would have bonded with another dragon in this scenario. Aerea wouldn’t have died a horrific death. Rhaena’s life would have been so different – she would have been spared the numerous tragedies that made her so bitter and spiteful in her later life.

Another possible what if – what if Aegon and Rhaena had returned to King’s Landing? Maegor hadn’t committed any kinslaying yet. He remains childless. Aegon would be his heir as he is the next available Targaryen heir. Would Aegon have succeeded Maegor? Or would Aegon’s death only be delayed as Maegor becomes desperate to sire an heir? Rhaena is the only full-blooded Targaryen female of child-bearing years. Visenya is too old, Alysanne too young. Maegor might have executed Aegon to wed Rhaena.

The beginning of 43 AC found Maegor in King’s Landing, where he has taken charge of the construction of the Red’s Keep. The king ordered secrest passages and tunnels designed throughout the Keep and had a castle built within the castle, surrounded by a dry moat that would become known as Maegor’s Holdfast.

Maegor appointed Lord Lucas Harroway (Alys’ father) as the new Hand of the King. Men whispered that Maegor was ruled by three queens: Visenya, Alys, and Tyanna of the Tower. Tyanna was not loved by the populace – they referred to her as the “mistress of whisperers” or the “king’s raven”. It was said the vermin of King’s Landing (rats and spiders) came to her to tell of men speaking against the king.

Tyanna would be the first “Master of Whispers”. Did Maegor create the position? Did Jaehaereys, based off of Tyana’s success, institute the role as part of the Small Council?

Up next, the Faith hasn’t learned their lesson and decide to wake the dragon – again!

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vivacissimx · 2 years

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hii! what are your thoughts on the entertainment weekly house of the dragon article? i'm not sure the actors read f&b but would love to hear your takes

Hey! Yeah so generally speaking I am very interested in the Dance-era timeline & the clear divide it represents in terms of how the Seven Kingdoms functioned together, what role queenship played, etc. I have many thoughts on all that, but just about the EW article in specific? Mixed thoughts for sure 🤓

First off, I really think the Dance was the wrong story to tell if they wanted to make something markedly different from GOT. Dunk & Egg comes to mind, but as it is the Dance ends with the murder of the main female claimant at the hands of her family & the realm in tatters. I haven't watched GOT myself but my understanding is that Jon murders Daenerys & brand new monarchs are chosen through a muddled legal process likely prone to, well, protest. Again, I enjoy the story of the Dance, but it really functions to set a stage more than resolve a conflict

And set the stage it does, Rhaenyra's disputed claim having terrible consequences for any similar claims to follow! There is a stark difference between Westeros under Aegon/Visenya/Rhaenys or Jaehaerys/Alysanne than under the later monarchs.

Ex. Rhaenys & Visenya ruled somewhat independently of Aegon, having councils of maesters and septons of their own. Rhaenys in particular enacted specific policy that preserved the rights of women and played a large hand in unifying the Realm through making marriages. They accelerated the use of propaganda and played strategic, at times military, roles in the political proceedings of the time.

Maegor's wives had a difficult time of it, but there is no doubt that they participated in political life (particularly Ceryse Hightower, as the face of Targaryen relations with the Faith; Rhaena the Black Bride, the woman who wielded power over Maegor's legacy & who stole Blackfyre as he slept; his dangerous enforcer Tyanna; and Elinor Costayne, whose oral testimony served as pro-Rule of Exceptionalism propaganda).

Alysanne, undoubtedly the most influential Targaryen Queen, created and spearheaded several sweeping social reforms during her tenure, particularly benefitting women, the lower class, as well as patronizing the arts. In addition, her incestuous marriage with Jaehaerys is the one that (actively) legitimized the practice.

After the dragons die, after the post-Dance decree that a woman cannot rule, the power of the queen virtually fades away. The four most influential women in Westeros, from the end of the Dance to the first page of AGOT, are Daena the Defiant (whose claim sparked Daemon Blackfyre's), Queen Myriah/Daenerys Martell (whose arranged marriages brought Dorne into the Seven Kingdoms), and Lyanna Stark (with a splash turned tsunami that ended a dynasty). None of them due to any formal power or policy of their own, but rather the minimal role they played as tools of propaganda during landscape-changing wars. Aegon V is the most progressive monarch to follow Jaehaerys & Alysanne, yet his reforms don't survive his death by even a decade. Daenerys Stormborn is the one who flips that back on it's head, birthing the dragons and reclaiming a role that was lost with Rhaenyra.

This is the part of the article that I spent the most time with. Emma D'Arcy's perspective interests me, I wondered how they might approach this role so I appreciate it being shared, although it's not my own interpretation.

It's interesting because for all purposes, Rhaenyra actually embodies a third gender space. It's very liminal. This is the thing: during the era of dragonriders, in a world where Targaryen women do not marry out of their family (rather inheriting the role of Queen/Princess from their mother as Targaryen men do the role of King/Prince from their father), where Rhaenyra possesses her own castle independently of her husband & will pass her name onto at least one of her sons, where she has bastards--it can be argued that the axis goes something like "Rhaenyra's gender is more similar to that of a Targaryen man than it is to that of a non-Targaryen woman." And the gender dysphoria referenced is not the desire for maleness but to be recognized within the space that she actually occupies. I have an easier time conceptualizing Rhaenyra as expansive character in a binary world than the other way around.

You know how Daemon Blackfyre was the bastard to end all bastards? Rhaenyra is the firstborn daughter to end all firstborn daughters--because within the paradigm created by the Rule of Exceptionalism, she's really more of a firstborn child (semantics ik but they're important!). It’s not that they have nothing in common with others of their type, but that their ascendancy would have gone a long way to redefine the very social structure under which these epistemological categories are created to begin with.

Anyways, I'm probably more reluctant to characterize Rhaenyra and Daemon's relationship as one of deep understanding & hedonism, I have spoken about my thoughts on their dynamic here (you know how handshakes originated as a way to show the other person you don't have a weapon? Right, so that but as a marriage). It is true that Daemon reflects her (in that his gender is more similar to a Targaryen woman than a non-Targaryen man, his claim to the throne inextricable from Rhaenyra's). In general, Daemon/Rhaenyra/Laena are all these complex mirrors of each other (second son, firstborn daughter to firstborn son, firstborn daughter to firstborn daughter) but yes I'd say while Daemon/Rhaenyra have a deep understanding of each other/their relationship there remains an uncrossable space between them that originated when he did unspeakable things to her.

(Also, there are no rules for Daemon lol)

This is another perspective that I had to mull over. It always struck me that Viserys was an enabler and Daemon was a narcissist, which is a specific type of doomed relationship.

I don't know, this is really a personal matter of interpretation, but I don't think Daemon's appetites were driven by Viserys, to some degree they were all his own ambition, supported by anger at any perceived slights. The guy just did whatever he wanted and the lack of consequences may indeed have been Viserys' failure, but I'm not sure they were an intended punishment.

This is the paragraph that I made this post about; it's definitely an invention of the show and seems like an anxious reflex, rooted in the fear that a story about misogyny might not be accessible or gripping enough on it's own without adding in this type of "as an xyz, you haven't been through what I've been through" angle.

It's too bad because I prefer the Alicent Rhaenyra relationship in it's Prisoner's Dilemma iteration--both of them making the most strategic choices for themselves in real time, although it brings about the worst ultimate result. That said...

This is exactly my Rhaenyra interpretation. I love this quote! That Rhaenyra's younger years are molded by influences like weak-willed Viserys, Queen Alicent, looming Criston, scheming Daemon, and her distant half-siblings absolutely gave her a complex about love & relationships. Hence why her loss of Laenor/Harwin/Laena was such a tragedy! That was a chosen family Rhaenyra benefitted from immensely, and resulted in her taking Daemon as a consort was a kneejerk way to fill that hole.

That Daemon's last actions were to refuse her summons, finally breaking the vicious cycle he once took advantage of, is extremely meaningful to his characterization.

*hour long fart noise* boo you whore 🍅🍅🍅

Look, the Great Council of 101 is to me what World War II is to middle-aged fathers. I love the legalese and blatant politicking of it all, love the stupid little non-conclusions they came to. Of course the vote was actually between Viserys (26, married to Lord Arryn's daughter, father to Rhaenyra, once-rider of Balerion, son of Baelon Prince of Dragonstone, grandson to the King) and Laenor (7, son of Rhaenys and Corlys, rider of Seasmoke, grandson of Aemon Prince of Dragonstone, great-grandson to the King). Not Viserys and Rhaenys. Alas, they went for the most boring possible interpretation ('she a woman' omg should we tell everyone? should we invite the press??) ignoring that the Great Council was half a year long, the site of plenty of shady dealings, that Viserys and Rhaenys had virtually identical blood claims, that Daemon and Aemma played a role in the vote along with the competing legacies of Baelon & Aemon. I'm not saying that misogyny played no role, but it wasn't the only factor!

In fact, we see plenty of female claims discussed later on in F&B (Jaehaera, Baela & Rhaena, Daena, Aelora) so get it out of your head that the Great Council of 101 = no women on the Throne. Cause that ain't it.

Yes fine, nonetheless I hope Rhaenys beats his ass in hell from her place in heaven!! More proof that no matter what you do for a cishet man, he will cheat cause it's tuesday

Okay. Hope this makes sense. Be safe out there

#asks #text #asoiaf #HOTD #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #viserys i targaryen #rhaenys TQWNW #corlys velaryon #gender in asoiaf #laenor velaryon #laena velaryon #daenerys targaryen #'why all the tags' they're for me not u

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prophecyofwinter · 1 month

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Across the Sea and to the East

Aemond Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Summary: Under your uncle’s usurpation of your brother you have been sent away to hide in Lys under House Rogare. You’ve found new purpose with the Lord of Light but you will be called home soon.

Tags: slight slow burn, actual burning, violence, smut, angst, tags will be added as we go.

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Prologue

Chapter 3: Lemon Scented Letters

“You know it is not good luck for one to fall asleep after morning prayer.”

You groan as thin curtains were forced apart allowing the full force of the sun to shine through. You roll over to cover your face, maybe if you hid away she’d let you sleep. The pups at the foot of your bed stretched and jumped off to go seek out the cooks for some type of meat scraps.

They get bigger and bigger every day, it’s been almost a month since you’ve received them and they have grown quickly.

“Did you know it is bad luck to wake the Lady of Light at any point?”

“I will take my chances Y/N. It’s almost midday!”

You sigh in defeat and roll over to your back, letting out a big puff of air blowing your hair out of your face. Thankfully you don’t have anything to do for the rest of the day, just you, Tyanna, and a bunch of cute little sandwiches.

“Tyanna, the cooks are serving those finger sandwiches for Luncheon aren’t they? Cucumbers are in season aren’t they?”

Suddenly you hear stomping leading up to your room and the abrupt sounds of your guards berating the individuals at the doorstep of your personal chambers. You recognize the voice instantly… fuck.

“Let Priest Titus in!”

Red Priest Titus, he’s one of the oldest in the temple and came over on a pilgrimage to bear witness to you. He’s one of the few who believes in you but still gives you a hard time with your choices.

“When were you going to tell me?!”

He could be talking about any number of things, for an old wise man he fumes up far too easily. Reminds you why he doesn’t deal with the politics of the temple.

“If you wanted to join us for luncheon you could’ve just asked.”

“You know very well I am not talking about finger sandwiches!-“

“Well I only want to talk about finger sandwiches so this must wait until after…”

The old man was very clearly fuming, about to bust at the seams of his Red robes. You had no idea what he was talking about but just to see him getting mad makes your day.

“This absolutely cannot wait! When were you going to mention to- to- to anyone that you were going back to Westeros!”

“No one is going back to Westeros! Not soon at least-“

“Then explain this!”

A letter is thrown at you, but it is an open piece of paper so it just flutters to the ground a few feet in front of Titus with a more embarrassed look on his face while you lay slightly amused.

“Well. Now what.”

“Allow me to get that my Lady…”

Tyanna rushes from the other side of the room to grab the piece of parchment off of the floor and handing it over to you and backing away slowly.

You rub your tried eyes and unwrinkle the letter that had been so foolishly tossed to the floor and began to read unamused.

To the Court of the Lady of Light

The Crown of Westeros and House Targaryen humbly requests the beloved presence of the illustrious Lady of Light.

By the turn of the next moon, we wish to be gifted with her graces presence.

We hope to hold a banquet in her honor, as we understand it draws near to the Feast of the First Sun.

We would be honored to host the week of festivities in tandem with the Faith's own Summers Night Feast in Kingslanding.

Alongside her grace and her Courtesans, will be joined by his royal highness King Viserys and Queen Alicent with their children Prince Aegon Targaryen, Princess Helaena Targaryen, and Prince Aemond Targaryen. Other Houses may be in attendance at their own will.

Sincerely, the Crown of Westeros.

Your face softens as you read and a soft lemon scent wafts through your nose, clearly it was soaked into the paper somehow.

He knows… He really knows…

“Aemond…” you whisper delicately while stroking his name written on the paper.

“This is an insult! They dare try to dirty our grand feast with- with- their shit copy!” You can barely hear Titus over the blood in your ears.

“We must go, write them back immediately.”

“Forgive me for saying but have you been inhaling too much Ash my Lady?! You do not know what they have planned!”

You hop up from your bed almost immediately, you felt the need to defend Aemond. No one here knows him, and to assume he would have this sent out to harm you?

“Aemond would not allow!- The Targaryens would not allow such acts on their grounds!”

You feel the room get cold and silent even with the humid summer heat. Your outburst you’ll admit was uncalled for but, if Aemond wants to see you, you shall be seen.

Titus’s face hardens and zones in on you and the letter in your hands and lets out a strained breath admitting his own defeat.

“I see, very well. I am bound to you, I go where you go my Lady.”

“Have a Priest write a letter back confirming our attendance, and Tyanna, gather members for a procession to escort and attend to me during our stay. After luncheon of course.”

Titus’s quick defeat should worry you, clearly the mention of Aemond made him realize something. The relief and serenity of the thought of being back in Westeros, even if not the North. Is too great for you to think about much else.

Oh Aemond…

——————————

“I heard Lys is nice this time of year.”

Alicent feels her body tense up at the mention of the three lettered country, especially when it falls from Aemonds mouth. She takes a long sip of her tea to articulate her thoughts, but the worry eats at her tongue regardless. Even the gardens that surround them help none to ease her stress.

“You have no business in Lys, you’ve never been. Why the interest in Lys?”

Aemond walks closer to the table where his mother sits and pulls out his own chair to take a seat across from his mother. Hands folded neatly, no elbows on the table as his mother taught him so, deep breath in long breath out.

“I read a book in the library, about the Lord of Light and the temple in Lys. A rather new book actually, published in High Valyrian around 2 years ago. It tells about their new Deity, the Lady of Light. Few know her name but they describe her with features from the First Men-“

“Do not torture me any longer, I cannot bear it. Aegon babbled to you, didn't he?”

Aemond sits for an extra moment longer, thinking about where he wanted this to go. What he really wanted to come from this interaction.

Maybe he would make his Mother sit in it a little longer.

“Aegon talks about a lot of things Mother, which do you speak of? I just wanted to tell you of my studies, since we tell each other important information.”

Alicent knows she’s asked for this to some extent. She knew Aegon would tell Aemond but she didn’t think it would happen this soon. She knows Aemond cares about this girl and he wants her to suffer just a little.

“Gods! I’m sorry that I did not tell you but need I remind you how you reacted the last time she was mentioned! I didn’t know where you were, you disappeared for days!”

Aemond says nothing, he sits there and twiddles his thumbs. Maybe he was sitting there to think or maybe to just see if his mother kept going. It was a cloudy day, no burning sun coming down on Aemonds black leather clothes, he could sit here all day if he wanted to. Normally the hot weather makes it too hot for him to think clearly.

“What would you have me do Aemond? Invite her here? So your eyes can meet and embrace each other while crowds clap and cheer, then marry and run away into the sunset?-“

“That’s exactly what we shall do. I read in the same book that they hold the Feast of the First Sun at the same time as the Summers Night Feast.”

Aemond had thought this through delicately it seems… What he asks is a tall order, not realistic in the slightest. However, if Alicent desires to place Aegon on the throne, Aemond having the fancy of a powerful religious leader wouldn’t… not help.

How would she get the faith to approve of such an activity though? To break bread to who they believe are heretics… The North has the Old Gods, the Targaryens have the Valyrian Gods…

#aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #house of the dragon

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fairysluna · 3 months

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I just read all of the chapters of your series “sinners” and it’s SO GOOD! The dynamic between the two of them is amazing! How devoted she is to him but still finds it in herself to stand up to him just for him to manipulate her all over again is crazy. Her listening to him with other women broke my heart! And then the escape ploy really showed how loyal she is and the way you described how he was looking at her when she decided to stay, I honestly thought that this was going to be a turning point for them but then we get slapped in the face with HIM AND TYANNA! This man is so evil I’m rooting for her and Quaran(sorry I can’t remember how to spell it). I love how when she really got angry and shoved him off that he was surprised. Him somewhat forcing her to essentially be okay with and tolerate his infidelity by saying how thats how it has to be and manipulating it to seem as if he’s doing it to benefit her made me so mad and the fact that she accepted it because honestly I would too I mean she was afraid and I was afraid for her. Then to end it all with Visenys coming to out of the blue tell her that there’s been a war happening this entire time it’s partly her fault and that her dads dead💀 literally killed me. Visenya saying that the throne is empty and Margot already planning on how to get it made me think back to earlier when he described why he couldn’t take her maiden head because he needs her for the throne. Sorry for the rant even though there were even more details that I loved and so many thoughts but this is already getting long! I just really wanted to say that I love all of the details and how emotional this story is! I see that it’s on hiatus and if you ever do decide to start writing for it again you can count on me to read every chapter!

PLEASE DON'T BE SORRY, I LOVE THIS. These kinds of things are the reason why I love sharing my stories with all of you, I adore when you all give me your impressions, opinions and insights of my fics PLEASE NEVER STOP DOING IT.

Ngl this actually gave me a little push, and I might start writing the series again... I'm so happy that you enjoyed it and that you took the time to come and write this!! I truly appreciate it, it made me incredibly happy🤭🤍 thank you for thisss and I hope inspo hit me soon so I can continue this story... can't wait for you to read what I have planned!!

Thank you once again🤍

#liv's replies #sinners

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theredpharaoah · 5 months

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Viserys, Daemon, and Rhaenyra was literally Visenya’s spirit at work. House Targaryen losing the dragons was her spirit at work too - a punishment. She was literally tryna make right all the bullshit she went through. Cuz if people had just listened to her, they could’ve avoided every issue. Literally everything could’ve been solved if Rhaena had just married Maegor. But Aenys was being a bitch. Aegon should’ve foreseen the succession issue and forced it. And if they weren’t married before Aegon I died, Visenya should’ve forced it. She definitely could’ve. She should’ve made sure Aenys and his children saw her as a maternal figure. I know that Aegon was being a man and “couldn’t stand her presence”, but she should’ve just dealt with his bullshit a lil more.

I mean you can’t tell me that Viserys and Daemon aren’t a healthier and more loving version of Aenys and Maegor. And Rhaenyra is definitely Rhaena if she’d actually wanted to rule. They were both dominant in a feminine way. Visenya was as well, but she still knew how to fight. Rhaenyra and Rhaena would’ve only ever fought on their dragons. And even the conflicts: Rhaena didn’t take part in any of the battles for her throne either(Aegon II’s throne but still). Baela and Rhaena are cuntier versions of Aerea and Rhaella. Rhaenys is probably meant to be the stand in for Visenya herself; the powerful and wise matriarch. Now the question is: whose spirit was fucking the grand plan up? Who killed Aemma in the birthing bed and had Viserys marry a Hightower? My money’s on Tyanna or that Yellow Toad idk. 😒

#house of the dragon #hotd spoilers #team black

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librosamarillos · 6 months

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passed down like folk songs

chapter 36: rumour has it

Maegor Targaryen x OC

Also on Ao3

chapter index

Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, angst, mature themes, targaryen incest, violence, Maegor is a red flag himself, characters are ooc probably, MINORS DNI

Rowan stood at the door of the sept, nervously picking at her fingers. So much had happened in such little time, and she was finding it difficult to manage one thing at a time, when she had to force herself to get out of bed at all. She had been a wreck, trying so hard to get Maegor out of her mind, but it proved impossible. However, since she would be joining Visenya in Dragonstone in the morning, she could not delay speaking with the septon. He was busy at the moment, and while she was normally the most patient person in the world, she could not bear being alone with her thoughts for this long.

She remembered when they were young, so very young, and he would tell her that he wanted to be King instead of Aenys. He never brought it up when they were older, perhaps because he knew if anyone heard, they’d accuse him of high treason and conspiring against the King, and Rowan had foolishly thought it was just a fleeting childhood wish. It was now so very clear that it was so much more than that, it was something that they were planning to make reality soon.

It all made sense to her now, all of Visenya’s so carefully worded letters, all the secret meetings, her disdain for Aenys; she had been preparing for this, paving the way for Maegor to take the throne, exile or not. And Maegor, with his obsession with getting an heir… of course… He wanted to secure his own line, not Aenys’, perhaps planning to disinherit his brother entirely, especially when word eventually reaches him about his title being passed to the young Prince Aegon.

She kept picking at her fingernails, when she thought about the timing of everything. Visenya was probably planning for his return soon, seeing as things were about to fall apart at any point, what better time for him to return with a huge show of power, with Balerion and Blackfyre at hand? She worried so much about what was going to happen within the family. The two brothers had left things off in such a horrible way, who’s to say how Aenys would react when he’d be asked, or commanded, to step down from the throne?

And what would happen when Maegor took the crown? Would everyone accept Alys as his wife and Queen consort, when there had been such a huge uproar about them marrying in the first place? Ceryse was his only lawful wife, the only one recognised by the realm and the faith, with Oldtown supporting her, and eventually her position as the one rightful Queen. Rowan felt incredibly comforted by that. She would make a proper Queen, and she trusted her entirely.

But then, what about that heir he had been trying for for all this time? What if both Alys and Ceryse gave him a son each, what then? Would the line continue through the oldest, or would his first wife’s son take priority, the same way he wanted to have been within his own family? Would any son of Alys even get any support in comparison to a son of Ceryse? And this new woman, this Tyanna? She could only see disaster in the future, and that’s even without adding dragons into the mixture.

She was driving herself mad with all these questions, but Visenya had promised her answers, and the ship to Dragonstone was leaving in the morning. She just had to breathe until then, but that was easier said than done. It was so difficult to see this all objectively, to just remove all her love for him from the situation. Every thought of him was filled with pain and heartbreak.

He wanted to prove himself, to show everyone that he was the one that should’ve been the heir, the one who should’ve accompanied their father to all his progresses, the one that should’ve been the apple of his eye. Maegor always had that scar, that pain, she knew it best of all. It all ran so much deeper than mere jealousy. It all led back to his father, to Visenya, to their family.

Then something made her heart stop. She had spent so long thinking of how this would affect the family, the realm, her friends, that she had perhaps tried to ignore what should’ve been the most obvious thought of all. It dawned on her why both Maegor and Visenya had told her that it should’ve been her, the full weight of those words. He didn’t just mean it out of love, and a want to marry her and to have a family and future with her. He wanted to make her his Queen.

“Are you alright, Lady Rowan?” the soft, worried voice of septon Bram snapped her back to reality and it made her jump. For a moment, she must’ve looked like a frightened animal, judging by his face full of concern. She quickly gathered herself and attempted to give him a convincing smile.

“Yes, yes! Forgive me, septon Bram, I’m afraid I haven’t gotten much sleep.” she said, a tad too quickly. He was not at all convinced, however. His eyes darted down to her hands, and she followed his gaze. Much to her horror, she had somehow managed to draw blood with all her nervous picking, nearly all of them red and puffy and bloody. She froze.

When she met his gaze again, she could only shake her head, silently pleading with him to not push the subject any further. He was good friends with her father, thus knowing her since her youth. He probably knew of this habit of hers, but never to this extent. Much to her relief, he gave her an understanding look, not asking anything of her.

“I, well, I came to speak with you about… I’m leaving for Dragonstone. I don’t know for how long…” she said, with much less confidence than normal. She was beyond apologetic, as this project they were working on was something she felt so strongly about, and did not want to abandon, but she could not stay. At least not for now. “I wish I could stay and continue to help directly, but I must join the Dowager Queen.” she explained further.

“I see… So, she’s left. Then is it true, what is said in the city?” he asked. He wasn’t angry with her, but perhaps disappointed by her departure. She could imagine it was difficult to find another direct contact with her house, seeing as her father was back home taking care of things, but septon Bram seemed to understand.

“What is said in the city?” she asked, worried about any rumours, especially with all she knew now. If anything nasty were to come up, it could easily grow to ruin people. She was fighting the urge to pick at her fingers again, but if she came across as any more stressed, it would make it far too obvious that something was horribly wrong within the Red Keep.

“That she left angry, because the King gave away her son’s title to his own son.” he said, and Rowan nearly sighed in relief. If that was all, then it was good. It was safe, it was alright. “I would hate to intrude, I understand the position you are in is a difficult one, but… are you alright, my lady?” he asked her softly, looking around to see if anyone was too close to hear.

“I’m fine.” she said, a bit too quickly. “Just, a bit on edge, with everything happening… you know. Such is life.” she added, trying to sound convincing, trying to prove to everyone around her that she was not just a few steps away from breaking down.

“I mean… with your father gone, now she’s taking you to Dragonstone… Would you not feel safer at home? With your family?” he asked her carefully. She fought hard not to tear up at the mention of her family. She missed them all so much, Starfall, her home, her cousins, her aunt and uncle, and most of all, her father. “I cannot imagine how you feel, having to live around… them, with the way they try to make their practices part of our faith…” he added in a hushed, concerned whisper. Rowan shook her head lightly.

“The King has a good heart. I do not doubt that.” she managed to find her voice again. She could never picture anyone speaking badly about the Conqueror, not in such a public setting, but tensions were so high, and the wedding had only turned the people against Aenys, just as Rowan had tried to warn him. “He is a kind man, I know this, he wishes to do what’s best for everyone. It was not his plan to upset anyone.” she said, looking at the septon in front of her. He did not deny her words, he knew them to be true, but it still didn’t mean the King didn’t just start a great schism between the crown and faith.

“You see the best in people, you always have, since your father first brought you here. But the world is not a kind place, you know this, my Lady. What the King has done… I do not think it can be reversed.” septon Bram said, his eyes worried. “The city will not be safe. It would be safer for you to return home.” he sighed, handing her a clean piece of cloth, his eyes looking at her hands.

“I… thank you.” she replied, accepting the offer, gently holding onto the cloth, watching tiny bloodstains form. “I am fully aware of all the tensions rising, I understand what may come, no matter how much I wish it wouldn’t. My father has entrusted the Dowager Queen with my safety. He trusts her, and so do I.” she explained softly. “Dragonstone is safe. I do not know the length of my stay there, but I still wish to help, in whatever way I can. If there’s anything you need, write to me, do not hesitate, no matter how small you think the matter is.”

“I appreciate your offer, my Lady. Know that your help is not at all unnoticed. Many in the city will miss your presence.” the septon said, with a small grateful smile on his lips. The man was one of the kindest people she had known, it warmed her heart that he cared about her wellbeing, and she wished that she wasn’t worrying him with all her nervousness.

“You are far too kind, septon Bram…” she mumbled, sad to leave. She hated going into uncertainty. She constantly yearned to go back to the simplicity of her youth, of their youth.

The ship to Dragonstone only needed three days to reach its destination, and it was ample time for Rowan to hide in her room and stay in bed for as long as humanly possible. She couldn’t bring herself to pretend to be fine, to not fall apart. Instead she chose to spend her time thinking of a reply to the two letters that were on her nightstand.

One was from Erin, and it was a sweet letter, full of her cousin’s wit. She had even let little Archie write her a few paragraphs, telling her all about the new toy his father had carved for him, and that she needed to come home and see for herself, because they wanted to carve a new Cyvasse set together. Rowan was moved to tears when she saw his sweet handwriting, noting all the small ways it had improved since she had last helped him with his lessons.

She missed her family so much, she missed her home and all of them together. She missed the quiet forest and the misty mornings and the changing leaves and everything that made it home. She wanted to be there with them all, to pretend like everything was just fine and nothing was wrong, but she could not. Her place was at Visenya’s side.

The second letter was from Finn, her eldest cousin. They were very close and they wrote to each other often, but this time, his tone was much more worried. He wrote to her about the match between him and Lady Florence Meadows, about how fond of her he had grown and his happiness with the match, as well as his dismay at the fact that the wedding date has not been set yet, all because of the instability of things.

It made her happy to hear that he was fond of his lady, and she truly wished she was there when she had come to visit, to meet her and welcome her into the family properly. She was saddened to hear that they could not marry soon, all because of the chaos. That was when Finn’s tone shifted.

“I worry about you, you know? I know you keep assuring us all that you’ll be safe, but I have a bad feeling that the upcoming events will make things even more difficult. I hate the idea that you’re so far from us, at a time when I know you need your family. I cannot imagine the difficult position you are in, I just wish she could grant you leave to come home, at least until things settle. Uncle Duncan is starting his journey back home as well. I imagine he would have already left Oldtown, by the time you’re reading this. I wish you well, Rowan, please be safe.”

His letter was written and sent before the royal wedding, and yet somehow Finn had managed to be so prophetic. She felt ashamed to be curled in bed, heartbroken, when her family worried about her and missed her so much. While she had only confided in Erin about Maegor, she had a feeling that she had told Finn something. He did not outright say it, but just by his tone, she knew he had to know something. Perhaps she was just so painfully obvious about her feelings this whole time. She had never doubted herself this much before.

And her father, her sweet father, whom she missed more than anything. She wished his journey home would be safe and easy. Travelling was not something safe, it seemed. People were already marking who were the ones too loyal to the Targaryens, she could only imagine what her father would be marked as. She wanted to write to him, to somehow curl up in his arms and hold him. She’d write to them all, but when she had a clear mind. She needed to breathe air.

As the ship reached its destination, and the servants came to carry all of the former Queen’s belongings inside, Rowan took a deep breath.

Maegor gripped the letter in his shaking hands, feeling that familiar distress. His mother was furious with him and she had let it be known, without of course revealing too many details, for their privacy, in case anyone were to read them. Somehow, word had reached her in Westeros, and while he was not exactly hiding it from anyone, he hadn’t told her about Tyanna or her skills, wanting to wait a little bit, perhaps out of shame.

What devastated him the most, was the few lines indicating how Rowan read the letter, how it crushed her all over again, and how she knew. It took everything in him not to fly to Dragonstone and explain himself, begging for her forgiveness. He couldn't bear it, the thought that he had once again made her cry. But what was he expecting? He knew that he’d return to Westeros soon, and he knew he’d see his sweet girl again, and he knew he’d tell her everything, was he not expecting her to be upset, to be hurt?

And now she knows. His Rowan now knew about their plans, and he wasn’t there to be the one to tell her. She was probably so hurt and confused, rethinking everything about the past. He’d write to her, he just had to. He couldn’t let her think that he was not constantly thinking of her, he couldn’t let her believe that he was just mindlessly fucking any woman that wandered his way. He had to tell both her and his mother. But first he had to have a word

When Tyanna walked into his room, she could feel his anger and it made her visibly uneasy. She wasn’t moving with that same confidence and did not appear so sure of herself, not like she normally did. She sensed danger. He did not acknowledge her, nor looked her way when she came closer. He still held that letter in his hands, his grip on it not loosening.

“Word has reached back home. About you.” he stated sternly, slowly, before turning around to face her. She seemed to be confused by his anger. “Word about a bastard witch, trying to climb up in the world by finding herself in my bed.” he said, his grip on the folded letter tightening.

“I imagine your mother is not pleased.” she finally replied after a moment of silence. She spoke carefully, like she knew at any moment she could find herself in the jaws of a dragon. “I imagine it’s hard for her to accept that you could find help for your goals elsewhere. It is only natural for a mother to feel so.” she said with a small smile.

He fought his anger and the urge to scowl even more than he already was, as she implied that he was angry because his mother was too smothering. As if he hadn’t watched his life fall apart while he could’ve stopped it. And now he was just making it worse, hurting the one person he loved above all. If Tyanna thought she could somehow drive a wedge between him and his mother, she was gravely mistaken.

“Spiders have many eyes.” she continued, after realising he had no intention of filling the silence to make her comfortable. “And they are everywhere, my Prince. They whisper to me.” she said slowly, walking toward him, swaying her hips suggestively, perhaps offering to ‘soothe’ him with her body. But it only drove him further into a rage.

“Do you think I have the patience for your little games? Do you think I find them entertaining? Hurry up and speak plainly, before I lose any patience I have left.” he snapped, his tone louder, angrier, more commanding. It made her flinch, ever so slightly. This was clearly not the outcome she had been hoping for.

“You break the rules often, do you not?” she asked, straightening her back. “You took Alys as your second wife, as is your Valyrian right, not caring who it angered. Now you took a mistress, something neither your father nor brother have done, why should you care if people know? It is my honour to join you in your bed, I am not ashamed.” she said, her voice now much more serious and less seductive.

“Why would you be? I’m the one who plucked you from that tavern and placed you into luxury.” he nearly spat out. It was what everyone thought of him, wasn’t it? That he didn’t care at all? But the truth was one he’d never share, all the sleepless nights, the constant guilt, the pain, all of it… He eyed her carefully.

“Of which I am ever so grateful for. Why would I ever be ashamed of that?” she replied, her tone now a bit defensive, as if the implication that she’d have any shame for her actions was somehow much worse than being called a bastard, a witch and a whore. To her, it seemed that it was. “I can help you with much more, you know?” she asked with raised brows.

“And yet, Alys is still not with child.” she said dryly, brows furrowed. She was great at making all these grand promises, and Alys seemed to be the one that fell for every single one of them, like the careless fool she was, but Maegor was running out of patience quickly. He knew this was hurting his Rowan to know, if it was all for nothing, for some ruse, he’d have this woman’s head on a spike. Tyanna did not hesitate to give another of her pleasing smiles.

“This matter needs time, my Prince. I must fully prepare her for you, to prepare her womb for your seed. Soon you’ll have your son, and as many spares as your heart desires.” she gave him a knowing look and his frown deepened.

“Promises you better deliver on. For your sake.” he said, finally releasing his grip on his mother’s letter. Rowan knew him better than anyone. She’d see his reasoning, his thinking behind all this mess, would she not? Even if she never found it in her heart to forgive him for the pain he’d caused her, she had to understand. He needed an heir, a safe, solid, line of succession to follow him and him alone. He had to see her, to fall to his knees and tell her how sorry he was for everything.

“Of course, my Prince. Or rather, should I call you my King already?” she asked carefully, her black eyes studying him carefully. Maegor stared her down, silently daring her to keep talking and see if she made it out of the room with her head still attached to her body. “Come on, your grace, it is only so obvious. With all the allies you have loyal to you, not the crown, your rush to get an heir, when you have no such pressures as a mere second son. It’s clear your plans are bigger than that.” she explained carefully, trying to sound relaxed in the face of danger.

“What do you want?” he asked dryly. Money was a given. She had been dancing for money in a tavern, and now she all but lived in the most luxurious bed money could buy in Pentos. He recognised something in her eyes, a hunger for more, for power. She’d never outright say it, no, she was too careful not to lose all she had gained these past months, but it was clear to him. She smiled.

“I only wish to serve the future King of Westeros, with whatever he may need help with.” she said innocently. He wanted to scoff, to ask her if she genuinely believed he’d fall for that, but his frown deepened. This so called witch spoke too greatly of all her skills. She had a reputation amongst Pentos, and he could very well use her skills to his advantage once he took the crown.

“If you deliver on your promises, you shall be rewarded generously. If not, you shall wish you never crossed paths with me, do you understand?” he asked, slowly getting up, his towering form making her look up. She nearly stumbled, not expecting him to move, when he had been sitting nearly still as a statue for this whole conversation. But she nodded.

“Of course, your grace.” she excused herself, knowing when it was time for her to leave. She had better be going to work on her potions of fertility, as his time was running out. Sooner or later, his brother would fall apart, and he’d be forced to surrender the crown to him. Thus, he needed Alys to get pregnant as soon as possible.

He sat back down, staring at his mother’s angry words once more. He was too ashamed to write back, but he could not keep silent. Not when Rowan knew everything. He ran his hands through his hair. It was getting longer. He picked up the quill, forcing his own hand to write on the parchment. His mother urged him to reply as soon as possible.

“There is truth in what you’ve heard. This woman has skills to offer us, and she’s currently helping Alys perform her duties and has only joined us for her, not me. Soon, you’ll hear good news, I feel it.”

He gripped the quill even harder. He felt too ashamed to write anything to Rowan. How could he tell her that she was all he thought about during the act, that he spent every moment gripping onto tiny pieces of her to preserve his sanity, what consultation would that bring her? How could he even begin to explain things to her, when he couldn’t even address a letter to his darling, when he couldn’t even write the truth?

He could see her pretty eyes full of tears, and it crushed him.

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#maegor targaryen #maegor targaryen x oc #maegor the cruel #all these bitches do is cry while holding letters #i am bitches

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