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inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 · 1 year

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MY DARKEST DESIRE (joffrey baratheon x dark! reader)

Joffrey Baratheon x yandere! Reader

2 of 3

TW: mentions of death and unhealthy behaviors.

Sorry if there are wording errors, I have translated it to google because English is not my first language.

You growled in frustration in the solitude of your room. It had been nearly two months since your last talk with Loras Tyrell and the chances of a public alliance with them had disappeared. Apparently, a wily Cersei Lannister noticed your interactions thanks to a traitorous prostitute of your father's and commented on your after-meal outings to Tywin Lannister, foolishly believing it to be a point in her favor.

The idiot ended up with an engagement to marry the uninterested Loras, an anxious Margaery and the death of Ros.

You swallowed quickly when you found out how she had died.

His cold words still echo in your head.

"That happens if you despise the Baelish."

As if you hadn't seen firsthand the beautiful, tragic body of your former ally, her frozen tears and expression of eternal horror. Vaguely, you stroked one of her red locks as she was taken away to be buried in a mass grave without any ceremony or anyone to mourn her. No, that's weakness. That happens to the weak ones.

The cunning ones always win.

You walked vaguely to untie the fancy hairstyle you wore today; it was better to concentrate on something else when those useless thoughts started. Noticing the yellow blanket adorning the wall, you thought of another element of the big plan.

Joffrey Baratheon, the bastard.

Growing up at court, you were introduced to him on his fifth name day. He was a wee lad who enjoyed beating other children with lower positions to complain about, throwing pieces of cake at his sister while she cried, and killing animals like birds with broken wings and baby rabbits with twigs. You came forward and recited the words your father had taught you. Joffrey gave you a bored look as you spoke and dragged you into his playground with the other children. You knew the rules, but watching him tear out that little red-haired boy's hair was enough for you. You stood up and knocked him down with a kick, he looked at you in surprise because no one laid a hand on him until now. Obviously, that would have given serious reprisals for your father and you, however, you lied saying it was the redhead himself and that Joffrey was confused because he hit his head, you did so well that they believed you. You were relieved until your progenitor told you how the poor boy was whipped and how his family was quietly removed from the court. You felt so bad that you told him, to your surprise, he was proud and even happy, he gave you a talk to better convince people and explained what to do if something similar happened with Joffrey.

You reviewed the events of this morning. From Cersei's hurried journey with her betrothed to Highgarden, Tyrion Lannister's appointment as Hand of the King by the Lannister lion himself, and Jaime Lannister's hasty wedding to Rosemund of Lannisport, you could rarely have a peaceful time when King Joffrey was around. His mother was gone, his father also to Casterly Rock, he was often controlled by his grandfather, and his only release was to torment the maids and his uncle Tyrion who rarely let himself be seen. Margaery told you of her fear that he would do you any harm, you replied that, despite being a maid, you were thorn-proof. Your relationship with her was going quite well: Olenna asked you about Joffrey's activities in her granddaughter's absence after finally convincing her of your loyalty; both women mentioned cautiously about a possible marriage with Willas, more adult and powerful than your former betrothed, but of a boring character according to your father's words, and questioned you about the personality of the second son, Tommen.

Everything seemed to be going well, but it was not. You knew what they were plotting and that annoyed you greatly, an assassination that would shake the house of the lion and strengthen the Tyrell power over the crown. That didn't bother you because it was to your advantage, however, you didn't want to see Joffrey being finished off by the Tyrells.

You wanted to kill King Joffrey with your own hands.

You let out a groan as you found yourself almost naked on your bed. The thought of Joffrey paralyzed on the floor brought another moan and the conviction to masturbate; imagining him with an expression of fear was enough to caress your clitoris; and the thought of his tears of horror and submission was enough to touch you harder.

You closed your eyes. Your hands going to his neck with no one around to stop you, him trying to push you away with his clumsy efforts, watching his neck redden, seeing drops of blood from the pressure exerted, unspoken words dominating his lips and finally his lifeless expression.

A moan of pleasure flooded your lips. But from afar it was not enough for tonight.

After your ninth orgasm, you thought vaguely about how his presence would be wrenched from you and how it would influence Baelish destiny. No, there was nothing you could do but obey and see how he would die for the relatives of your lever. Tiredness dominated your head, tucking you in with your blankets, there was only one coherent thought: Not obeying.

You watched the Iron Throne along with the others as King Joffrey displayed his cruelty. The Tyrells were visiting some chamber of a vassal house, loathsome enough to stray away for a few hours, while you stood near your father with the nobles gathered like shivering chickens in a henhouse, and both shared the same vision, but with different goals. : he sitting comfortably as king of the seven kingdoms and you, taking Joffrey by his cloak causing him wounds by the edge of the swords and dragging him like a dog with the sole purpose of seeing him suffocate by the pressure of his own cloak.

Both thoughts were not compatible and you knew that well.

The screams of pain did not distract you, but Tommen's gaze did, the poor boy was holding back tears from the monstrosities committed by his brother. He's too innocent for Westeros, too whiny to get used to violence when he's lived with Joffrey his whole life, and not at all cunning. Too weak.

Being with the Tyrells would do him good. Even if it's just a piece of the game.

You pursed your lip. You were not a player, that place is for your beloved father, you were just a valuable piece. That was good right? He has been for years and years, for your entire life. Why change? Father can be an excellent king; he just needs the necessary push. But the order of the pushes can change, right?

"I'm done for today." The king's proud voice brought you back to reality.

“My king, please…”

Seeing how the citizens were beaten calmed you down. Everything was running its course.

"Let's go, dear daughter." Your father pushed you away with his classic paternal man role, you smiled following his ruse.

"Stop there! Your king commands you."

They turned around confused.

“Lady Baelish, I have received word that you have cured my brother, Prince Tommen, of yellow fever with your healing knowledge along with the maester.” Joffrey's annoying voice grew closer; you could feel your father's machinations in his head. "Therefore, I invite you to hang out in the king's personal dining room, if I'm feeling generous I could offer you a medicine box for your woman skills."

Feeling the perfect opportunity to make your fantasies come true, the satisfaction of knowing the answer was greater.

"My beloved daughter accepts your offer, your grace."

"Well, it's a unique opportunity, she couldn't turn it down."

The blush on your cheeks only increased as did King Joffrey's shit-eating grin.

“I will show you my gratitude for all the goodwill you have had with me all this time…, your highness.”

The sinister shine of your eyes was not noticed by anyone.

@yandere-stan @yandere-daydreams @megsironthrone @letsasoiaftogether @missglaskin @witchthewriter @a-libra-writes @agent-whiskeys-sweetheart @ladywinterwitch @anxiousnerdwritings

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writeshite · 1 year

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Robb thinking his husband is cheating

Lady Margaery and Olenna of House Tyrell arrive in Kings Landing on a beautiful summer afternoon, and every ounce of assurance of your marriage Robb had shriveled when he noted how familiar you and Lady Margaery were. Viserys finds him glaring daggers from a balcony overlooking the courtyard; the bastard laughs when he notes how tightly Robb grips the railing as you and Margaery exchange pleasantries over tea.

“My, my, this look of jealousy is quite attractive on you,” Viserys comments, Robb sneers at the man. “Calm yourself; I’m not foolish enough to attempt and take you a few feet from my brother.” He ran his hand around the base of his neck, “He’d have my head for that.”

“Good, then you should stop bothering me.”

Viserys mock pouted, “I only came to see how you felt knowing your husband’s ex-lover was in town.”

“Ex-lover?”

The bastard gasps mockingly, “Don’t you know, before you, hundreds if not thousands lined the streets,” he remarks, gazing up dreamily as if remembering, “Cersei Lannister and Margarey were high contenders, constantly vying for my brother’s hand.” Viserys glanced down, you looped your arm in hers, and you both laughed as you waltzed away, “But I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Robb spends hours after spiraling, watching your interactions with Lady Tyrell; his mind plays scenario after scenario incessantly, as Viserys’ mockery does the same. His panic draws your attention, but he ignores you when you speak and shrugs off your affection. He wanders the halls, hands shaking as he fiddles with his wedding band at every waking moment.

Viserys enjoys his turmoil. “If you’re that upset, then why not find your own comfort in another?” Robb cusses him out, storming off before he does anything irrational, wandering the halls aimlessly until he stumbles across Lady Olenna enjoying her wine. He turns to leave but is beckoned by her.

“Come on; I don’t have all day.” A handmaiden pours him his own cup, and he downs half of it without hesitation, “Do you know of Old Valyrian customs, Lord Stark?”

“What?”

“In Old Valyria, love was a bloody conquest; dedication was shown by impaling your lover’s enemies for all to see,” she replies, nursing her drink. “It was said that their bloodlust made them dangerous and volatile creatures to love.”

Robb blinks slowly, mind swimming to understand what he’s been told; she stands, “Walk with me.” The terrace edge overlooks Traitor’s Walk on one side, “Do you recognize any of the people there?”

At first, he doesn’t, but then he does - the head at the center is covered in blood, bruising around its face, and a jagged haphazard cut from ear to ear - he recognizes it as Lord Stuar, who’d taken to tormenting Robb alongside Viserys months back. Lord Stuar, who’d been declared missing soon after, “How….”

“Your husband,” Lady Olenna supplies, “He’s been filling Margaery in on his bloody conquests; she enjoys the details, as do I, I suppose.”

“What are you trying to say, Lady Olenna?” He asks.

“Don’t you understand?” she turns to him now, “Your husband, like all Valyrians, is a dangerous and volatile creature, willing to spill blood for you without so much as a thought. Believe me when I say, he wasn’t quite this,” she searches for the word, pursing her lip, “murderous for my granddaughter.” She parts from him with words of wisdom, “Use it to your advantage.”

His mind is buzzing from both the wine and the knowledge now bestowed upon him; your chambers are empty, and he’s thankful, needing the space and time to sort through his thoughts. He dozes off and wakes to the sound of light murmuring, your at the door, back to him; the conversation ends, and then the door is closed again. Robb doesn’t face you when he stands, unsure of how to broach anything; he instead focuses on shedding his heavier clothing, unbuckling his belt when your arms draw around him.

“I’ve been told you doubt my loyalty,” you whisper by his ear, hands settling on his, “Why is that?” He mumbles a half-hearted response, and you hmm, “Silly wolf,” you kiss his temple, turning him to face you, “I’d rather burn in dragon’s fire than break our vows.”

#robb stark x male reader #robb stark x reader #ma said it's my turn to make shit up about old valyria because i can #arranged marriage au #shitedrabbles

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goodqueenaly · 8 months

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I was wondering if you had any theories on why Aemond Targaryen seems to be seen as a much more attractive marriage prospect than Willas Tyrell, despite both of them suffering from the Westerosi stigma surrounding disability. Im basing this supposition in the fact that Aemond is used as a bargaining chip to get the Baratheons on the Greens side at the start of the Dance, and it doesnt seem like the Tyrells have attempted to use Willas as a marriage option to gain more supportive houses for Renly’s campaign. (Later, of course, they offer him to Sansa, but that is when the Tyrells are no longer at war and are allied to the crown/Lannisters through Margery’s marriages.) It just seems the time yo use him as a marriage bargaining chip would have been more usefulI when they were actively backing Renly’s military campaign as opposed to peace time. That makes me think that Aemond was a more “attractive” marriage option, despite both of them being disabled and suffering an ableist society

I recognize Aemond is a Prince and later the brother of the King, but on the Green’s side, he is still 3rd-4th in line for the throne (depending on whether or not Jaehaera is ahead of him in the line of succession. Its less likely that him or his descendants will become King (at least at the start of the Dance) Compared to Willas, who is the heir apparent to Highgarden, and him and his descendants are likely to become the next Great Lords of the Reach. Thats nothing to scoff at.

The only reason i can think of is the the fact that Westarosi society venerates the idea of an ideal man as a warrior, and because of the nature of his injury, Willas is no longer able to fit that ideal. Contrast with Aemond, who became an even better swordsman/warrior after he became disabled. He is still the subject of ableism, but he is more easily able to meet the societal ideal of manhood vs Willas. That likely makes him a more “attractive” marriage option

I think there are a few points to be broken down here.

Number one, I don't think Willias' and Aemond's respective disabilities are comparable in terms of how they are treated in the story, primarily (as you note) because of Aemond's ability to perform Westerosi masculinity in a way Willas cannot. Despite his clearly high aristocratic and dynastic position, Willas cannot escape being described, and specifically negatively described, in the context of his disability; Cersei, Tyrion, and Oberyn all derogatorily refer to Willas as “crippled” or a “cripple” (as does Olenna, albeit in a deliberately frank conversation with Sansa), while Tywin calls Willas Olenna’s “precious one-legged grandson”. Even if Willas is "an able lad", intelligent, magnanimous, and cultivated, Westerosi aristocratic society still critically focuses on his disability: even Mace in praising his son feels the need to qualify that "[h]is leg may be twisted" while saying that Willas "has no want of wits", Margaery describes her eldest brother as having "a bad leg but a good heart", and Arianne, remembering her betrothal history, thinks that she “might even have considered Willas Tyrell, crippled leg and all”. Willas' injury does not absolutely exclude him from marital ambitions - more on that in a bit - but it does precede virtually any discussion of Willas in this universe.

Contrast those perspectives on Willas' disability with the story's treatment of Aemond's missing eye. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that Fire and Blood Volume 1 does virtually nothing to suggest that the loss of his eye ever affected Aemond's ability to perform according to the standards of Westeros' (patriarchal and ableist) martial aristocratic society (at least until his final battle). Indeed, Gyldayn only barely references the aftermath of Aemond's injury, merely noting (as he, Gyldayn, relates the later reign of Viserys I) that "Prince Aemond, despite the loss of his eye, had become a proficient and dangerous swordsman" through his training with Criston Cole. While Aemond does seem to be somewhat generally referred to as "Aemond One-Eye", there are almost no instances of anyone treating Aemond's lack of both eyes with the same disparagement we see so often in characters discussing Willas' injured leg: in fact, the only real criticism seems to have been Maris Baratheon's comment at Storm's End, that she "want[ed] a husband with all his parts" (and everyone knows how I feel about that moment), as well as perhaps Otto Hightower's reproval of Aemond after the events at Storm's End ("You only lost one eye ... How could you be so blind"). While Daemon Targaryen certainly took advantage of Aemond's blind side to strike the killing blow at their final battle above the Gods Eye, no other point in the story relies on Aemond's partial blindness as a plot point or opportunity for commentary from the characters around him: no one besides Maris mocks him for not having both eyes, or suggests that he cannot fight because he can only see out of one eye, or otherwise treats him as lesser compared to fully seeing individuals in Westerosi society.

Number two, I do not think we can ignore the context of these two characters in terms of their would-be marriages. The green faction specifically looked to House Baratheon at the outset of the Dance because "House Baratheon had always been staunch in support of the claims of Princess Rhaenys and her children". The traditional dynastic currency of aristocratic Westeros - that is, a politically advantageous marriage - was, for the greens, the obvious means of winning Baratheon support for Aegon II: not only could this method specifically counterbalance the marital ties now three generations past which linked the Baratheons to the black faction, but with Borros having four daughters and no son, the Lord of Storm's End might have felt even more uncertain of his position in a looming civil war - and, consequently, even more grateful for a sign of royal favor from the court of King's Landing. Aemond's specific position in the line of succession, I think, mattered less than his ability to act as a dynastic representative for the green faction: just as Daemon Targaryen had been used, in his first marriage, to strengthen Targaryen ties to a powerful Vale House (and one in a temporary ruling position, given Yorbert Royce’s regency of Jeyne Arryn), so perhaps the green faction envisioned Aemond Targaryen as Lord of Storm’s End jure uxoris (or close enough), who would assure the chief power in the Stormlands remained loyal to the green faction. It is also worth pointing out that Aemond was the only royal of marriageable age available at hand to the green faction, since Daeron was still in Oldtown: while the green faction might have chanced Lord Baratheon waiting on, say, either of Aegon II’s young sons, I think the greens decided that the adult Aemond embodied a more immediate guarantee for both parties.

Contrast this ambition on the part of the green faction with the ambitions of the Tyrells before and at the start of the series. I have said this before and I will say it again, the goal of the Tyrells has consistently been to insert themselves as the dominant power at the royal court by making Margaery a queen. When the original Robert-Margaery plot fell through, the Tyrell solution was to turn to Renly, creating exactly the court the Tyrells had envisioned: a Tyrell as queen, a Tyrell as commander of Renly's de facto Kingsguard, a Tyrell as King's Hand, obvious Tyrell influences in the trappings of Renly's power, and a Tyrell army supporting Renly's claim. With these ambitions satisfied, it remained only for the Tyrells to actually install King Renly and his Tyrell court in the physical space of the Red Keep - an outcome I think Mace and the rest of the Tyrell faction saw as perfectly possible (indeed probable), given the dominating size and strength of the army behind Renly. Where the green faction at the outset of the Dance saw Westerosi aristocratic support (at least to some extent) as uncertain and up for grabs, the Tyrell faction at the outset of the War of the Five Kings approached the war with distinct overconfidence in the ability of Renly to seize and hold the throne. There was no need here to search for additional diplomatic marriages to strengthen the arrangement, even if there had been a politically viable and advantageous option (and I struggle to think who would have been considered as such in this moment for the Tyrells): the plan instead was to move Renly's machine forward, to take the capital by force and install the Tyrell court in its proper, palatial setting.

Number three, and related to that point, it is not the case at all that the Tyrells have completely ignored the idea of marrying Willas for dynastic benefit. Whatever Mace might have imagined for Willas' marital future prior to the start of the series (a point he may not even have felt particularly pressured on, given his arrangement of second son Garlan's marriage and the plethora of Tyrell cousins elsewhere), he certainly saw Willas as a valuable bargaining chip in the Westerosi marriage market during the course of the series. Once the Tyrells had successfully seized the position of queen consort through Margaery, and were well on their way to dominating the court of King's Landing proper, the family attention shifted to an attempt to claim the newly available Sansa for Willas - herself then a very valuable marriage prize, as the next-eldest sibling in a dynasty which had (ostensibly) very suddenly lost its two male spare heirs. (In fact, I believe that the Tyrells were still trying to claim Sansa for Willas after her marriage to Tyrion - by planning to spirit her to Highgarden after Joffrey's assassination, when she would be presumably conveniently widowed from the traitor Tyrion.) Moreover, while the Tyrells rejected Tywin's idea of a Cersei-Willas marriage, Mace does not seem to have given up on a royal marriage for Willas entirely: Kevan Lannister, probably correctly, suspects that Mace may have been alluding to the possibility of a Willas-Myrcella match when Mace opined that "[s]urely a better match [could] be found for the girl" than Trystane Martell. Again, while the Tyrells have not actually secured a politically advantageous bride for Willas as of yet (and I think Willas is going to be a bit too distracted and Mace a bit too dead to do so in the short term), but Willas is not altogether dismissed as a marital pawn, even while Westerosi society mocks his disability.

(This is, as usual, a reminder that I don't talk about That Other Show and anyone who uses my posts to talk about That Other Show is getting blocked.)

#asoiaf meta #marriage making #aemond targaryen #willas tyrell

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sdwolfpup · 8 months

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Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll roughly to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people.

Tagged by @mattatouile. I sorted by longest to shortest because I thought that would be most fun, and only picked from completed fics so lets see what we've got.

Heart Full of Gasoline (Jaime/Brienne, Game of Thrones/ASOIAF) - He saluted her with his prosthetic hand and she saw his face go soft and yearning even as he turned away. She was certain it was a mirror of her own as she watched him walk onto the ferry back to King's Landing, carrying her dreams and her heart with him.

Baby I Will (Jaime/Brienne, Game of Thrones/ASOIAF) - In the reflection of the mirror behind the bar, their faces are visible over the unevenly arranged bottles. Brienne's hair is a mess, her eyes hazy with lust. Her lips are so kiss-swollen it’s obscene. Jaime is wild and unfettered behind her, already losing control with every driving movement. One hand is clenched at her shoulder, the other gripping her hip hard enough to bruise. She hopes it does; she wants to press her fingers to her body later and feel the memory of him.

2 Hot 2 Horny (Jaime/Brienne, Game of Thrones/ASOIAF) - “You wanted a real answer,” he said, and he hesitantly met her eyes, not sure what he'd find there. He should've known she'd simply look concerned, an empathy that made him weak, and at the same time gave him the strength to say, “That's mine, I suppose: my biggest fear is being myself.”

There Will Come A Time (Thom Rainier/female Adaar, Dragon Age: Inquisition) - “What did he say to you?” she asked him quietly. The fire popped and crackled, casting light over the dark shadows on his face. Smoke wafted past them. After a long minute, hands curled tightly around his carving, Thom said: “that I was who I knew myself to be.”

I miss it when your heart's not around (please slow down) (Warren/Murphy, Z Nation) - She needed all her focus on the talkers and the anti-talkers this week. And after that there would be some other crisis, some other special apocalypse problem that she would have to focus on next. There would be no time for the confusing turmoil Murphy's desire – or her own – caused her. No time to figure out why the emptiness inside always disappeared when she was with him.

Working 9 to 5 (for service and devotion) (Jaime/Brienne, GoT/ASOIAF) - “Let's take a look at manufacturing numbers,” Kevan says. Jaime dips his hand below the waistband of her pants and she gasps when his fingers brush the top of her underwear. “This isn't very relaxing,” she says, checking - again - that they're muted. Jaime leans into her, until his lips are brushing her cheek as he whispers, “You'll be relaxed at the end of it.”

I need your sway (Jaime/Brienne, Jaime/Brienne/Cersei, GoT) - “It's good to see you,” he said in that same gentle voice that knocked at her heart, trying to find its way in.

Go On (Jaime/Brienne, GoT/ASOIAF) - My cell: My brother has a fish question. Do you have a minute? Brienne WTF: You run into a surprising amount of fish questions. My cell: Good thing I know a fish expert now. That's what my life was missing. Jaime winced when he re-read it. Why did everything look so much more dramatic in text?

I need your heart (Cersei/Margaery Tyrell, Jaime/Brienne, GoT) - Olenna tsked. “Still such a dreamy child. You think Cersei Lannister cares about romance? That woman knows what it takes to make a life. You work hard, you marry a decent enough oaf if you can, you bring up your children to carry on the name and money, and you taste the sweet success of outliving your husband.” Olenna cackled gleefully and Margaery sighed.

To be in your arms again (Jaime/Brienne, GoT) - Jaime heard the door open and close. “What's wrong with him?” Tyrion asked. “He's a fucking coward,” Bronn said blandly. “I am not,” Jaime protested, lifting his head to glare at the other men. But he was, he knew he was. How could he face her? What would he do if he couldn't convince her not to hate him? “Oh gods I am,” he muttered, covering his face with his hand.

I have no idea who to tag here so please do this, I'm enjoying reading these.

#tag meme #my fic #jaime x brienne #blackwall x inquisitor #warren x murphy #z nation #dragon age inquisition #game of thrones #asoiaf

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istumpysk · 2 years

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Operation Stumpy Re-Read

AFFC: Cersei III (Chapter 12)

"Oh, I pray the Seven will not let it rain upon the king's wedding," Jocelyn Swyft said as she laced up the queen's gown.

"No one wants rain," said Cersei. For herself, she wanted sleet and ice, howling winds, thunder to shake the very stones of the Red Keep. She wanted a storm to match her rage.

Coming right up.

+.+.+

"Tighter. Cinch it tighter, you simpering little fool."

Cersei, are you having difficulty with your clothing?

+.+.+

To break her fast the queen sent to the kitchens for two boiled eggs, a loaf of bread, and a pot of honey. But when she cracked the first egg and found a bloody half-formed chick inside, her stomach roiled.

Sweet, is this another opportunity for me to celebrate teen pregnancy? Giddy up, let's go!

An immense round fat man, as big as three Moon Boys, he came cartwheeling into the hall, vaulted onto the table, and laid a gigantic egg right in front of Sansa. "Break it, my lady," he commanded. When she did, a dozen yellow chicks escaped and began running in all directions. - Sansa I, ASOS

On a serious note, I do fully anticipate a pregnant Cersei before the end of the series.

+.+.+

"Tyrion will not kill the same way twice. He is too cunning for that. He could be under the floor even now, listening to every word we say and making plans to open Tommen's throat."

History is a wheel. It may not be Tyrion, it may not be Tywin, it may not be a crossbow, and it may not be the Tower of Hand, but history is a wheel.

+.+.+

She seized his arm. "Not a guardsman. You. And inside his bedchamber."

"In case Tyrion crawls out of the hearth? He won't."

"So you say. Will you tell me that you found all the hidden tunnels in these walls?" They both knew better. "I will not have Tommen alone with Margaery, not for so much as half a heartbeat."

"They will not be alone. Her cousins will be with them."

"As will you. I command it, in the king's name." Cersei had not wanted Tommen and his wife to share a bed at all, but the Tyrells had insisted. "Husband and wife should sleep together," the Queen of Thorns had said, "even if they do no more than sleep. His Grace's bed is big enough for two, surely." Lady Alerie had echoed her good-mother. "Let the children warm each other in the night. It will bring them closer. Margaery oft shares her blankets with her cousins. They sing and play games and whisper secrets to each other when the candles are snuffed out."

These poor girls. Would you rather share a bed with Sweetrobin or Tommen?

Not allowing Tommen to be alone with Margaery for one second is so batshit crazy, I can only laugh.

+.+.+

"I am sure Her Grace knows best," Lady Olenna had said to Lady Alerie. "She is the boy's own mother, after all, of that we are all sure.

lmfao.

+.+.+

"There can be no danger of a consummation. Tommen is much too young."

"And Ossifer Plumm was much too dead, but that did not stop him fathering a child, did it?"

Her brother looked lost. "Who was Ossifer Plumm? Was he Lord Philip's father, or . . . who?"

He is near as ignorant as Robert. All his wits were in his sword hand.

I'm so bad at summarizing Cersei chapters, all I do is laugh.

+.+.+

"Do you still mean to go ahead and burn the Tower of the Hand?"

"After the feast." It was the only part of the day's festivities that Cersei thought she might enjoy. "Our lord father was murdered in that tower. I cannot bear to look at it. If the gods are good, the fire may smoke a few rats from the rubble."

They're already in Braavos.

+.+.+

"If any of them were hiding in the tower, we would have found them. I've had a small army going at it with picks and hammers. We've knocked through walls and ripped up floors and uncovered half a hundred secret passages."

"And for all you know there may be half a hundred more." Some of the secret crawlways had turned out to be so small that Jaime had needed pages and stableboys to explore them. A passage to the black cells had been found, and a stone well that seemed to have no bottom. They had found a chamber full of skulls and yellowed bones, and four sacks of tarnished silver coins from the reign of the first King Viserys. They had found a thousand rats as well . . . but neither Tyrion nor Varys had been amongst them, and Jaime had finally insisted on putting an end to the search. One boy had gotten stuck in a narrow passage and had to be pulled out by his feet, shrieking. Another fell down a shaft and broke his legs. And two guardsmen vanished exploring a side tunnel. Some of the other guards swore they could hear them calling faintly through the stone, but when Jaime's men tore down the wall they found only earth and rubble on the far side. "The Imp is small and cunning. He may still be in the walls. If he is, the fire will smoke him out."

Half a hundred secret passages!

So small we need pages and stableboys!

A passage to the black cells!

A stone well with no bottom!

A thousand rats!

Major Gorne's Way vibes at the end.

+.+.+

"Even if Tyrion were still hiding in the castle, he won't be in the Tower of the Hand. We've reduced it to a shell."

"Would that we could do the same to the rest of this foul castle," said Cersei.

Be careful what you wish for.

+.+.+

"After the war I mean to build a new palace beyond the river." She had dreamed of it the night before last, a magnificent white castle surrounded by woods and gardens, long leagues from the stinks and noise of King's Landing. "This city is a cesspit. For half a groat I would move the court to Lannisport and rule the realm from Casterly Rock."

In 265 AC, offended by "the stink of King's Landing," he [Aerys II Targaryen] spoke of building a "white city" entirely of marble on the south bank of the Blackwater Rush. - The Targaryen Kings: Aerys II, The World of Ice and Fire

Feed me all the Aerys / Cersei parallels.

+.+.+

"That would be an even greater folly than burning the Tower of the Hand. So long as Tommen sits the Iron Throne, the realm sees him as the true king. Hide him under the Rock and he becomes just another claimant to the throne, no different than Stannis."

"I am aware of that," the queen said sharply. "I said that I wanted to move the court to Lannisport, not that I would. Were you always this slow, or did losing a hand make you stupid?"

This is a big reason why I'm having difficulty picturing a scenario where she abandons King's Landing. Fleeing is not in her DNA.

+.+.+

Jaime ignored that. "If these flames spread beyond the tower, you may end up burning down the castle whether you mean to or not. Wildfire is treacherous."

HA HA, get it???

+.+.+

"Let all of King's Landing see the flames. It will be a lesson to our enemies."

"Now you sound like Aerys."

I was thinking someone else.

+.+.+

The bride was fair and gay and beautiful

You should have seen the double take.

+.+.+

He recited his vows in a high, childish voice, promising his love and devotion to Mace Tyrell's twice-widowed daughter.

Say it again, I dare you. Keep emphasizing that.

+.+.+

This is wrong, she thought. It is too soon. A year, two years, that would have been time enough. Highgarden should have been content with a betrothal.

I understand why the Tyrells are in such a hurry, but I'm in total agreement with Cersei. Joffrey just died, and Tommen is 8, this is absurd.

+.+.+

Cersei had wanted to use the fine red silk cloak Joffrey had used. "It was the cloak my lord father used when he wed my lady mother," she explained to the Tyrells, but the Queen of Thorns had balked her in that as well. "That old thing?" the crone had said. "It looks a bit threadbare to me . . . and dare I say, unlucky? And wouldn't a stag be more fitting for King Robert's trueborn son? In my day a bride donned her husband's colors, not his lady mother's."

I'm not going to keep score, because Olenna is pulling away.

+.+.+

When all the vows were spoken, the king and his new queen stepped outside the sept to accept congratulations. "Westeros has two queens now, and the young one is as beautiful as the old one," boomed Lyle Crakehall, an oaf of a knight who oft reminded Cersei of her late and unlamented husband. She could have slapped him.

The old one? How is Lyle Crakehall still alive?

+.+.+

Amongst the last was Kevan Lannister. "I understand you mean to leave us for another wedding," the queen said to him.

"Hardstone has cleared the broken men from Darry castle," he replied. "Lancel's bride awaits us there."

"Will your lady wife be joining you for the nuptials?"

Someone on westeros.org made this observation, and I think it's a good one:

Cersei keeps inquiring about Kevan's wife.

She nodded. "Uncle, may I ask you a question?"

"Whatever you wish."

"Your wife … do you mean to bring her to court?" - Epilogue, ADWD

Dot, dot, dot. Something is going on, so we'll keep an eye on it.

+.+.+

"The riverlands are still too dangerous. Vargo Hoat's scum remain abroad, and Beric Dondarrion has been hanging Freys. Is it true that Sandor Clegane has joined him?"

How does he know that? "Some say. Reports are confused." The bird had come last night, from a septry on an island hard by the mouth of the Trident. The nearby town of Saltpans had been savagely raided by a band of outlaws, and some of the survivors claimed a roaring brute in a hound's head helm was amongst the raiders. Supposedly he'd killed a dozen men and raped a girl of twelve.

George isn't done with his favourite punching bag.

The man who intended to rape a 12-year-old girl now has to live with everyone in Westeros believing he raped a 12-year-old girl.

The author never forgets.

+.+.+

"When a dog goes bad, the fault lies with his master," Ser Kevan said.

Don't make me drag Tywin Lannister.

+.+.+

Mace is taking half the Tyrell strength to Storm's End, and the other half will be going back to the Reach with Ser Garlan to make good his claim on Brightwater.

Hold on to this. I'm doing my best to keep track of the armies from the Reach.

+.+.+

Ser Loras is so Tyrell he pisses rosewater. He should never have been given a white cloak."

"He would not have been my choice, I'll grant you. No one troubled to consult me. Loras will do well enough, I think. Once a man puts on that cloak, it changes him."

Why is that, Jaime?

+.+.+

The only singer was some favorite of Lady Margaery's, a dashing young cock-a-whoop clad all in shades of azure who called himself the Blue Bard. He sang a few love songs and retired. "What a disappointment," Lady Olenna complained loudly. "I was hoping for 'The Rains of Castamere.'"

Olenna bodying Cersei all over this book tells me Olenna's in for a grand exit.

She who laughs last, laughs best.

+.+.+

Whenever Cersei looked at the old crone, the face of Maggy the Frog seemed to float before her eyes, wrinkled and terrible and wise. All old women look alike, she tried to tell herself, that's all it is. In truth, the bent-back sorceress had looked nothing like the Queen of Thorns, yet somehow the sight of Lady Olenna's nasty little smile was enough to put her back in Maggy's tent again.

She did kill your son, so there is some validity to what you're feeling.

+.+.+

Queen you shall be, the old woman had promised, with her lips still wet and red and glistening, until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear.

I'm not ready to dive into this yet, but moving forward I will be working under the assumption that Cersei is the YMBQ.

Credit to @agentrouka-blog for changing my mind.

+.+.+

"To the king and queen!" The other sheep all baaaaaaed along with him. "The king and queen!" they cried, smashing their cups together. "The king and queen!" She had no choice but to drink along with them, all the time wishing that the guests had but a single face, so she could throw her wine into their eyes and remind them that she was the true queen. The only one of Tyrell's lickspittles who seemed to remember her at all was Paxter Redwyne, who rose to make his own toast, swaying slightly. "To both our queens!" he chirruped. "To the young queen and the old!"

The old queen? How is Paxter Redwyne still alive?

+.+.+

"Your Grace, I . . ." The Myrish woman [Lady Merryweather] lowered her voice. "There is something you must know. Your maid is bought and paid for. She tells Lady Margaery everything you do."

"Senelle?" Sudden fury twisted in the queen's belly. Was there no one she could trust? "You are certain of this?"

"Have her followed. Margaery never meets with her directly. Her cousins are her ravens, they bring her messages. Sometimes Elinor, sometimes Alla, sometimes Megga. All of them are as close to Margaery as sisters. They meet in the sept and pretend to pray. Put your own man in the gallery on the morrow, and he will see Senelle whispering to Megga beneath the altar of the Maiden."

We'll never get any confirmation that Senelle is actually a spy, but that won't stop Cersei from putting her through hell.

Evidence that Lady Merryweather isn't lying:

Margaery, her cousins, and Senelle meet in a sept and pretend to pray. Both Cersei and Sansa would pretend to pray while plotting, so the story has instant credibility with the reader.

Evidence that Lady Merryweather is lying:

+.+.+

"If this is true, why tell me? You are one of Margaery's companions. Why would you betray her?" Cersei had learned suspicion at her father's knee; this could well be some trap, a lie meant to sow discord between the lion and the rose.

"Longtable may be sworn to Highgarden," the woman replied, with a toss of her black hair, "but I am of Myr, and my loyalty is to my husband and my son. I want all that is best for them."

"I see." In the closeness of the passage, the queen could smell the other woman's perfume, a musky scent that spoke of moss and earth and wildflowers. Under it, she smelled ambition. She gave testimony at Tyrion's trial, Cersei recalled suddenly. She saw the Imp put the poison in Joff's cup and was not afraid to say so.

We are immediately reminded that Lady Merryweather boldly lied during a trial.

I don't know what to tell you, your guess is as good as mine.

(Is Merryweather a fair-weather joke? Lol.)

+.+.+

The Knight of Flowers was in white silk, with a belt of golden roses about his waist and a jade rose fastening his cloak. They could be twins, Cersei thought as she watched them. Ser Loras was a year older than his sister, but they had the same big brown eyes, the same thick brown hair falling in lazy ringlets to their shoulders, the same smooth unblemished skin. A ripe crop of pimples would teach them some humility. Loras was taller and had a few wisps of soft brown fuzz on his face, and Margaery had a woman's shape, but elsewise they were more alike than she and Jaime. That annoyed her too.

We don't deserve this POV.

It's too good.

+.+.+

Margaery was dancing with her cousin Alla, Megga with Ser Tallad the Tall. The other cousin, Elinor, was sharing a cup of wine with the handsome young Bastard of Driftmark, Aurane Waters. It was not the first time the queen had made note of Waters, a lean young man with grey-green eyes and long silver-gold hair. The first time she had seen him, for half a heartbeat she had almost thought Rhaegar Targaryen had returned from the ashes. It is his hair, she told herself. He is not half as comely as Rhaegar was. His face is too narrow, and he has that cleft in his chin. The Velaryons came from old Valyrian stock, however, and some had the same silvery hair as the dragonkings of old.

He may not be Rhaegar, but Aurane Waters is an attractive man, so I'm sure Cersei will be giving him an important job any minute now.

+.+.+

"Take this away and bring me hot spiced wine," she told Senelle.

Cersei drank several cups of wine and pushed her food around a golden plate.

She gave him a withering look. "And have you fumbling at me with that stump? No. I will let you fill my wine cup for me, though. If you think you can manage it without spilling."

"A cripple like me? Not likely." He moved away and made another circuit of the hall. She had to fill her own cup.

When Senelle appeared to fill her wine cup, the queen had to resist an urge to take her by the throat and throttle her.

"I think Her Grace has had enough wine for one night," she heard her brother Jaime say.

No, the queen thought. All the wine in the world would not be enough to see me through this wedding. She rose so fast she almost fell. Jaime caught her by the arm and steadied her.

I might as well keep highlighting this every chapter.

I never did it with Tyrion, so you can scold me for the double standard. My bad.

+.+.+

"Lords and ladies," Cersei called out loudly, "if you will be so good as to come outside with me, we shall light a candle to celebrate the union of Highgarden and Casterly Rock, and a new age of peace and plenty for our Seven Kingdoms."

I can't think of anything more appropriate than setting a tower on fire to celebrate the union of Highgarden and Casterly Rock.

I have a feeling it might end the same way it started!

+.+.+

The queen could feel the heat of those green flames. The pyromancers said that only three things burned hotter than their substance: dragonflame, the fires beneath the earth, and the summer sun. Some of the ladies gasped when the first flames appeared in the windows, licking up the outer walls like long green tongues. Others cheered, and made toasts.

What happens when you add two together?

+.+.+

It is beautiful, she thought, as beautiful as Joffrey, when they laid him in my arms. No man had ever made her feel as good as she had felt when he took her nipple in his mouth to nurse.

+.+.+

Lord Hallyne stood humming to himself and rocking on his heels.

Why are the pyromancers so weird?

+.+.+

The Tower of the Hand gave out a sudden groan, so loud that all the conversation stopped abruptly. Stone cracked and split, and part of the upper battlements fell away and landed with a crash that shook the hill, sending up a cloud of dust and smoke. As fresh air rushed in through the broken masonry, the fire surged upward. Green flames leapt into the sky and whirled around each other. Tommen shied away, till Margaery took his hand and said, "Look, the flames are dancing. Just as we did, my love."

"They are." His voice was filled with wonder. "Mother, look, they're dancing."

+.+.+

"Yes." Cersei beckoned to Jaime. "Lord Commander, escort His Grace and his little queen to their pillows, if you would."

"As you command. And you as well?"

"No need." Cersei felt too alive for sleep. The wildfire was cleansing her, burning away all her rage and fear, filling her with resolve. "The flames are so pretty. I want to watch them for a while."

I'm going to choke.

The flames writhed before her like the women who had danced at her wedding, whirling and singing and spinning their yellow and orange and crimson veils, fearsome to behold, yet lovely, so lovely, alive with heat. Dany opened her arms to them, her skin flushed and glowing. This is a wedding, too, she thought.

Another step, and Dany could feel the heat of the sand on the soles of her feet, even through her sandals. Sweat ran down her thighs and between her breasts and in rivulets over her cheeks, where tears had once run. Ser Jorah was shouting behind her, but he did not matter anymore, only the fire mattered. The flames were so beautiful, the loveliest things she had ever seen, each one a sorcerer robed in yellow and orange and scarlet, swirling long smoky cloaks. - Daenerys X, AGOT

+.+.+

Jaime hesitated. "You should not stay alone."

"I will not be alone. Ser Osmund can remain with me and keep me safe. Your Sworn Brother."

"If it please Your Grace," said Kettleblack.

"It does." Cersei slid her arm through his, and side by side they watched the fire rage.

Oof. Ouch.

Final thoughts:

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #affc #cersei iii

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fromthereachwithlove · 1 year

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#Cristi Balanescu #Margaery Tyrell #A Song of Ice and Fire #Highgarden #House Tyrell #Game of Thrones #The Little Rose || Margaery Tyrell

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bluemmings · 1 year

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ADELA GONZÁLEZ (cisfemale, she/her, maia reficco) is 23 and a SPORTS THERAPIST from NEWCASTLE, but now they can be found in CASA. they are known as THE OPAQUE because they are CUNNING but if things kick off, they can be a bit ABRASIVE. they’re PANSEXUAL and are most interested in grafting MADDOX & BASH. one thing they want to accomplish in casa amor is PROVING NO COUPLE IS SOLID. (dark eyes golden by sunlight, laced lingerie flung across bedroom floors, lipstick smudged against her lips from making out with strangers & forever checking out herself in any reflection she passes) PLAYED BY: mochi, 25, gmt, she/her

hola, welcome to my crib. she’s a bit inspired by corrine accola for all my gallagher peepls. also a less murderous azula from atla, and debbie thornberry & margaery tyrell,

T H E F A C T S.

full name — adela lyra gonzález

nicknames — del, dela, addy

occupation — sports therapist

born In — newcastle, uk

dob — may 29th, 1999

astrology — gemini sun, sag rising, sag moon, cancer venus

sexuality — pansexual

gender — cis female

pronouns — she / her

religion — atheist, religion is her least favourite kind of cult

A B O U T

+ charismatic, graceful, open-minded, patient, mediator, playful

— addictive personality, abrasive, disloyal, distrusting, needs to be in the loop at all times, flips like a switch

family: ricardo suarez (father), jennifer gonzalez (mother),

siblings: an older half-sister (34) called penelope, don't see each other much

pets: an old stray cat she took in called scruffy

P H Y S I C A L

height: 5 ft 4 in

hair colour: dark brown

hair length: to her waistline

eye colour: brown baby

build: toned, athletic

tattoos: she has a few; a tiny hockey stick on her leg, hollow heart at her wrist, delicate stick and poke little bouquet on her forearm and a half moon behind her ear

fashion: itty bitty things, figure hugging dresses, crop tops and skirts, oversized cardigans and combat trousers, lingerie on a night out, sparkles, cleavage and ass rights 24/7

other: wears glasses when reading, bit of an emo queen, loves horrors and halloween, listens to lana del rey on repeat when she’s sad, has played field hockey competitively since secondary school, cries at stupid shit not sad shit,

H I S T O R Y / T H I N G S

grew up in a council estate in newcastle, didn’t have loads of money but it could have been worse

knew who her dad was but didn’t really have much of a relationship aside from the occasional visit or gift for her birthday, if he’d remember

adela used to care a lot as a kid, but growing up being disappointed over and over again starts to put things into perspective

she grew up with her mum and often stayed next door at their neighbours if her mum was on a night shift or needed some extra help looking after her

grew up mostly around and with women except for a best friend's brother who was her first everything !!

fucked view on love, and if there's no sexual chemistry then shes out kinda thinks if you're not going to worship her then what's the point ? so only love she will accept is the die/kill-for-her kind

knows she has a bit of a toxic stance with relationships: never rly knew her dad, mum had multiple partners, sometimes overlapping and always inconsistent

adela’s been with a lot of bad selfish people, used to be overly generous but now is less so bc you get what you give

love island’s just a bit of fun to get her name on some brand deals like adidas and nike + she wants to work with high profile athletes and clubs so this will hopefully boost her chances and get her name a bit out there even if it's literally just her 15 minutes of fame

the type to play dirty when no one's watching but otherwise your best friend when you need her

#𝓶𝓾𝓼𝓮 — adela gonzález.

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asoiafdrabbles · 1 year

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Eventuality, Chapter 14

AO3 Link

Note: I'm planning on posting up the chapters of my chaptered fics (at least this series, Red Ruins, and Trinity) here on Tumblr and will be doing a single post for each collecting links to all of the chapters, so while right now they won't be in order, they'll be easier to navigate eventually. At that point I'll remove most of the navigation tags from individual chapters.

XxXxX

Jon usually stayed close to Daeron during the social events they hosted if only to keep abreast of his plots. This time, he stuck even closer still, the reminder of Daeron’s possessiveness echoing in his thoughts.

There were many handsy lords, and some ladies, among their supporters, and he didn’t want to give Daeron an excuse to hurt someone. He had concluded moons before that he could never give the impression of straying and certainly not allow someone to lose their life, or worse, over being too familiar with him.

It was one of the reasons he made no efforts to add men to his retinue, despite sometimes wishing there were other ones with him. Daeron might still see women as a threat for Jon's affections, but they did not come along with the threat of line theft.

He did dance with Oberyn, at one point, and a few of the older Crownlands lords he knew Daeron wouldn't care about. But he skirted around the current guests of honor, representatives from the Reach who were pretending not to have their liege's permission to speak with Daeron.

The Tyrells were grasping for power, having supported Renly, who died quickly, more or less a laughingstock of the Kingdoms, and they were now shackled to King's Landing, first to the little monster that was King Joffrey and now to the too-young King Tommen.

"Perhaps Margaery for Robb, it would get her out of the way, bind her to someone loyal, and give the suggestion that a daughter of theirs would be more likely to be betrothed to your heir," he suggested, keeping his thoughts detached when thinking of the next generation.

Daeron tilted his head in acknowledgement, eyes drifting over the Hightowers and Tarlys, the Redwynes and Fossoways. “It has merit, though we certainly won’t make any promises about our heirs. With luck, we will have a boy and a girl within a few years of each other and they can wed.”

If accepting being with his uncle was difficult, imagining his eventual children being together was worse.

Yet, he understood why it had to be that way: dragons made it so. Both to keep their blood as strong as it could be now that magic had returned and to keep it out of other Houses, so they did not have to worry about the power of a rival.

“With luck,” he replied, not knowing what else to say, then stood again. “One more round, I think, and then surely I can make my excuses and retire?”

The indulgent smile and the heated look that swept over him assured him of Daeron’s agreement before he even opened his mouth. “Yes, bathe the stench of these others off of you when you return to your rooms. I will be there when I am able.”

Jon gave a polite acknowledgement before stepping away from the high table once more. He drew attention in this body as he rarely had in his old one, though he often wondered if he had been raised a prince, if that would have been different. Highborn women had to be more careful and discerning in their attentions and would not give much notice to a bastard.

Highborn men, however, allowed their gazes to fall anywhere they pleased, and they seemed to be very pleased to look at Jon. He was glad he had not been cursed with a large bust or behind, that there was less for them to view.

“My queen.” The sudden voice jarred him out of his thoughts and he gave his attention to a new figure.

He wore an aquamarine seahouse on his coat and the silver detailing marked him as a bastard of House Velaryon. If Jon had not already had an inkling to his identity, the silver hair of a Valyrian would have given it away.

“Aurane Waters,” he acknowledged, with a regal nod of his head he had seen Sansa give at times in their last life.

His smile was stunning and playful. “Might I have the next dance, your grace?”

Jon knew he should not grant him one, he was not the safe sort of partner that he’d been with so far, and was being far too bold for a bastard as Jon well knew, but it was difficult to find the words to dismiss him. There was want in his eyes, yes, but unlike with most of the other men, they did not stray from his face.

“I suppose I could grant you this one request, my lord.”

Aurane was graceful and as sure footed as a sailor surely had to be, and still his eyes did not wander. At least, Jon decided as they spoke of little and less of importance, they did not wander to his body. They did look over his face, tracing his brow and cheekbones, his lips and nose. As they passed under a shifting light from the candles in the chandeliers above, he seemed intent on Jon’s eyes.

There was no reason to look at his body with lust, Jon realized with some amusement, when he was looking for the Targaryen in Jon instead. The Velaryons might not have practiced incest in the way that his house had, they may not have bred into his own line since Queen Alyssa, but it should be no surprise they might be fixated on the blood of the dragon as he’d heard from Daenerys that parts of Essos were.

At one point, Jon risked glancing towards Daeron. He missed the next step, drawing Aurane’s attention. He followed Jon’s gaze and tensed under his hands.

“I have heard dragons are possessive creatures,” Aurane leaned in and teased, surely seeming too close to be appropriate from the angle Daeron watched them. “A shame.”

He bowed out of the dance after that, stalking through the room as though he was not running. Bold, perhaps brash, but not suicidal. It made Jon wonder what his true motivation for drawing Daeron’s ire might be.

XxXxX

Notes:

Aurane Waters is a side character in the books who is highly amusing to me. Cersei has a crush on him and he very clearly takes advantage of that...to get the bankrupt Iron Throne to fund extravagant new ships for the royal navy that he then steals lol (he may or may not be the new pirate king of the Stepstones). Originally she thinks he looks like Rhaegar (as they're both Valyrian featured), but then notices differences as she actually gets to know him. I imagine in a GOT world he'd resemble the Velaryons in HOTD.

The Velaryons married into House Targaryen two other times after Alyssa (wife of Aenys I, the eldest son of Aegon I): Laenor to Rhaenyra I and Daenaera to Aegon III. Rhaenyra's children with Laenor never lived to have children of their own and Aegon III's line isn't the future Targaryen line (if the Blackfyres had won, it would actually be both lines that sat the throne, because Daemon Blackfyre's mother was Princess Daena, eldest child of Aegon III, and his father was Aegon IV, eldest child of Viserys II). But for Jon (and Daenerys), Queen Alyssa is their closest Velaryon relative.

#character: jon snow #ship: daenerys/jon #verse: time travel #verse: genderswap #series: potentiality #character: aurane waters

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