Laena Velaryon - Blog Posts

Son of Arrax

King of the Gods, God of Justice, Law, Order, and Governance.

Queen Alicent Hightower stood at the balconey of her apartments – the lavishly furnished Queens Apartments – eyes unfocused as she looked down towards Aemma's Garden, only recently finished by the wrokers sent by Lord Tyrell as a gift to the pregnant Crown Princess. From where she stood she could smell all the different flowers that lined the beautiful garden and surrounded a pavillion carved from the same white stone the Eyrie was made of.

She waited impatiently for news of Princess Rhaenyra's labors, praying to the Seven that she would have a girl, furthering Prince Aegons claim. The skin around her nails was torn to shreds with drops of blood falling to the stone beneath her feet, but she hardly noticed.

Surely King Viserys Targaryen, her husband and Princess Rhaenyra's father, would finally see the craven whore his daughter was after she birthed the bastard of Ser Harwin Strong. He had allowed her to run rampant, giving in to every whim and wish she had. Why just recently he had given her the Heir's apartments! Only slightly smaller than the Kings own apartments and far larger than her own, which was just disrespectful to her, the Queen! Princess Rhaenyra and her heathen husband now had an entire floor within Maegor's Holdfast to themselves and their 'household', while she only had a single corridor filled with rooms!

Aegon deserved to have the Heirs Apartments as the Kings Firstborn, not the Royal Whore of the Red Keep and her Sword-Swallowing husband!

But no matter how many people she told the truth, those who adored Rhaenyra gave her everything. Her Uncle, Prince Daemon the Whoremonger himself sent ships of men, servants, healers, and midwives, an entire household of those he had personally vetted as the letter that had accompanied them had boasted. Alongside those ships were those filled with jewels, cloth of all kinds from Essos, Pentos, and the Free Cities, toys for the babe, furniture of all kinds for Princess Rhaenyra's new Apartments all sent by Lady Laena, Prince Daemons wife.

Lord Corlys was much the same, sending for the most exotic fruits, vegetables, seafood, and meat his money could buy. King Viserys had not only gifted her the Heir's Apartments but everything the Late Queen Aemma had owned from dresses to jewels, leaving her, the true Queen who had done her duty, to buy new ones after all of hers had been taken. It was humiliating to have to buy an entire chest of jewelry!

Lady Jeyne Arryn had also sent gifts, including the stone for the pavilion, such as old items that belonged to Princess Daella Targaryen and Queen Aemma Arryn. She even sent objects that had once belonged to her grandfather, Rodrick Arryn, much to the shock of everyone.

The entirety of the North had sent her gifts as well, from furs to men, simply out of loyalty and of course the Tyrells had built the princess a garden that was then named after her mother, planting four Weirwood trees in the corners of the garden much to her displeasure.

Fortunately Princess Rhaenys seemed to realize that the child was a bastard and the Baratheons had followed her lead in not interacting with the couple outside of what was deemed respectable. She was oft seen conversing with her son, conversations that ended with him storming away in fury, after the Princess likely tried to convince him of his wifes sins. But the poor man was besotted. No man had ever doted over their wife the way Prince Laenor did.

A quiet knock pulled the Queen from her musings. The door opened allowing Ser Criston Cole, her loyal guard to poke his head inside, "It is Tayla. She says she was sent with word of the Princess' labors."

"Let her in, Ser Criston. I wish to hear the happy news," Queen Alicent stated, tucking her hands behind her back.

"Of course, Your Majesty."

Tayla hurried inside waiting for the door to close before speaking. "The Crown Princess has given birth to a boy, Your Grace."

Queen Alicent scowled for only a moment before smoothing her features back out. "Do you know how the Princess fares? Does she suffer the same as her mother, the late Queen, did? And the boy, tell me of his looks? Who does he resemble more, his mother, his father, a relative perhaps?"

"The Crown Princess is well, already up and moving from what I saw, Your Majesty. She refused the wetnurse the King offered, told everyone within that she would not let her son be fed by a stranger when she was right there with milk to spare," Tayla smiled at the memory of the Crown Princess. "And Crown Prince Jacaerys Targaryen is beautiful, My Queen. A perfect mix of his mother and father."

The smile fell from Queen Alicents lips, "What? What do you mean?!"

"The babe had the hair color of his mother but its curlier, I believe. And his eyes are from her too, but his skin color is more like his fathers. I was not close enough to see his facial features but I could hear Lord Velaryon and the King celebrating him."

Queen Alicent stared at the servent silently before commanding, "Take me to them. Now. I wish to meet the newest member of the Velaryon family." She made sure to emphasize the name Velaryon, believing the maid had mispoken but she did not correct her self.

"Of course, your Majesty. The Crown Princess has been taken back to her Apartments in order to rest." Tayla turned to lead the Queen to the Heir's Apartments as Ser Criston Cole fell into step behind her, white armor gleaming as his cloak fluttered dramatically.

The walk was considerably shorter than Queen Alicent expected but that did not make it anymore pleasant. The walls of the entire third floor of the Holdfast had Valyrian Tapestries depicting family members and their respective dragons, starting with Daenys the Dreamer. There were even Velaryon tapestries hung up, pictures of sea creatures of myths and legends that made Queen Alicent shudder.

The halls were lit with dragonglass latterns that threw beautiful patterns along the walls. The group of three passed by several members of Princess Rhaenyra's Household, including Lady Sara Snow, Lady Annara Celtigar, and Lady Mara Karstark.

The large black wood door at the end of the hallway had Syrax, the Princess' dragon carved into the wood and filled with gold, the large green emerald eye acting as the handle. Standing outside was Ser Harrold Westerling and Ser Arryk Cargyll, the Kings guard for the day, Ser Harwin Strong and Ser Erryk Cargyll, the Princess' Guard, as well as six other guards, Velaryon and Arryn based upon their armor were posted in the hallway.

Ser Strong opened the door, calling into the room, "Queen Consort Alicent of House Hightower." He stepped out of the way, eyeing Ser Cole, who was smirking haughtily.

They knew his secret.

Sweeping inside, Queen Alicent found Princess Rhaenyra resting upon a beautiful, cushioned chaise, her youngest lady, Lady Sera Dondarrion, working oils through her long, golden-white hair.

"Ahh, my dear Queen!" King Viserys called, sat upon an armchair with his grandson cradled within his arms. "You will be most delighted to see what the Gods have gifted my dear grandson!"

Her smile nearly fell, but she quickly plastered it back in place, "A gift from the Seven-Who-Are-One? I would be delighted, husband."

"Come, come," King Viserys said, using his head to gesture her over. Coming to stand at his side, purposefully displacing Lord Corlys, who ignored her to focus on his grandson, she looked down, fully expecting a carbon copy of Ser Harwin Strong, no matter the reports of Tayla.

Instead soft, thick, curly golden-white hair formed a halo upon his head, the sunlight that streamed through the window giving it a soft glow. Purple eyes, the same as Rhaenyra's down to the color and placement of the darker black specks, stared back at her though she noticed a strange sheen to them, seemingly giving them a golden tint when the sunlight them. Dark skin, though a few shades lighter than Prince Laenors or Lord Corlys', though it was likely that it would darken if he became a sailor like his grandfather and father.

"Look," Viserys murmured, lightly brushing back the curls piled onto his tiny forehead. In white lines upon his forehead, etched into his skin, was a crown with a strange rune in the very center.

"It means 'King'," Lord Corlys stated, smiling widely. "Its an Old Language, shared by the First Men, Valyrians, and Ghiscari. The last time I saw anything like it was while I was visiting Old Ghis."

Laenor rolled his eyes as the two dads shared a laugh, while the babe cooed, turning his attention to his father.

"Does he have a name?" Alicent asked, voice tense. A glance to Rhaenyra told her that she could hear the tone change and was amused by it.

"Prince Jacaerys Targaryen, First of His Name, and Heir to me, the Heir to the Irone Throne and Heiress to House Targaryen. Tonight we plan to announce him to all the Great Houses," Princess Rhaenyra stated, smile softening as she looked to her babe.

"I congratulate you, Princess. Your Mother must be looking down upon you in happiness for your success, from the Strangers Embrace," Queen Alicent said, trying to hide a sharp smirk as Rhaenyra's gaze flashed.

"Lady Helaena, your dearest Mother, one of my own dear mothers companion must be looking upon me favorably as well. It is a shame she left so young, but she lives on in the paintings you or your father must have. At least I can look upon the mirror and see my mother at times, but you, my lady, are the perfect imitation of your father," Rhaenyra grinned, teeth sharp and poised at the throat. Alicent nearly gaped at Rhaenyra, shocked by the low blow. The Princess knew she had no paintings of her mother because they were too expensive for a second son to afford.

"Thank you," Queen Alicent barely hid a snarl with a false smile. "My husband, I fear I must return to mine own chambers to ready myself for the feast tonight."

She pressed a kiss to his cheek to hide the hatred and anger she yearned to let them see.

"Of course, my dear. I shall see you tonight then." The king was far more focused on the babe than he was his wife, not even registering the kiss on his cheek.

Queen Alicent stalked outside, Ser Cristin quickly falling into step with one last look towards Ser Harwin.

How could Rhaenyra have said something so cruel! Her father was right. This was no longer her friend but her enemy. Aegon would take his rightful place upon the Throne. Viserys would eventually have to see the truth, that his daughter was unfut to rule, that women were unfit to be in places of such power.

From now on she had to begin finding allies for herself, especially now that her father was no longer the Kings trusted Hand and advisor. Her first act would have to be discrediting the rumors that were sure to appear once people saw the birthmark upon Prince Jacaerys' forehead.

Nearly flinging her door open she ordered the servent within to find her best green dress. The maid bowed and scurried into the adjacent chamber to find one while other servents were called to bath her.

For two hours she allowed herself to be pampered, both in the bath and outside it, before allowing the servents to carefully lace up the beautiful generald green dress with tight sleeves, a high neckline, and beautiful green detailing around the bust and waist, emphasizing her small figure. After Aemond she had easily dropped the added pregnancy weught, something she doubted Rhaenyra would be able to do.

Queen Aemma had always looked swelled, or unhealthy and it wouldn't surprise her if Rhaenyra was the same.

Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen smiled as Cylia and Morgana Strong carefully aided her towards her bathing chamber, where a steaming bath awaited. Maester Mellos, who the King had allowed in after Queen Alicents departure, had tried to insist that a hot bath was unhealthy but the healer had disregarded that. Apparently the woman had helped Saera Targaryen give birth several times and the older woman always felt better after a steaming bath. It was a Targaryen thing, she said.

Rhaenyra could see the different herbs one of the other healers had added and could not help but ask, "What kind of herbs are in here?" She sank into the water with a near moan, muscles relaxing.

"Yarrow to reduce swelling, lemon balm to keep fevers and sickness at bay, and witch hazel to help the healing process," Healer Ana answered, carrying over a cup of tea. "Your grace, I suggest drinking nettle tea for the next three days in order to quicken the healing process. It shall also aid in milk production to make your son grow quicker and healthier."

Nodding, Rhaenyra took the tea, relieved at the warmth that slid down her throat. Luckily it had been sweetened by honey and the slightest bit of milk so she could ignore the bitter tasting liquid easier. "Thank you."

"Of course."

She was happy to note that Healer Ana had remembered her decision to breastfeed Jacaerys herself, rather than passing him off to a wet nurse as most did. Her and Laenor had agreed that they could not trust anyone, so it would be safer, and seemingly healthier according to the midwives, for him to feed from her.

For a good hour she soaked, drinking several cups of tea during the time, as Morgana and Cylia painted her nails a beautiful dark red, a very expensive shade her goodsister had sent her. Once the water had cooled, she was dried and dressed in a plain towel so Sera could braid her hair in a simple crown.

The dress she chose was black with red and gold trim, long draping sleeves filled with soft fur, made in the Northern style. It had been a gift from Lord Rickon Stark and his young son, Cregan Stark, and one she quite adored. Pulling it on, she admired the softness as she swept out of her dressing room, finding all three men still cooing over little Jacaerys.

"Father, Goodfather, I believe you the feast will be beginning in an hour," Rhaenyra said, smiling at the slight panic both men obviously felt.

"Ahh, you're right, my dear," Viserys pressed a kiss against her cheek as his eldest gently took Jacaerys. "I shall see you tonight for the feast."

"As will I. You did well, my son," Lord Corlys stated, clapping Laenor on the shoulder. He gave his father a strained smile, escorting the two from her Apartments, before nearly slumping against the door.

"I can not believe him sometimes. Did you see his face when we introduced Jacaerys?!"

"Did you see the Queens? She looked as if she sucked a lemon when she saw our little boy."

Laenor laughed, vividly remembering the shocked look upon her face, as well as the look on her face when she saw his marking.

"I must admit, I was surprised by the marking as well. I know Arrax told us he would lay claim upon his . . . our? . . . son, but I did not realize it would be so visible," Laenor admitted, lightly brushing his fingers over Jacaerys' forehead, smiling at the quiet coo.

"It is a boon either way. The servents, healers, and midwives that were present during the birth will gossip, and after tonight, when all the Lords and Ladies we invited see it they will know that Jacaerys is my rightful heir. The Greens will see that he is no bastard, that he is more Valyrian than the Queens half-breed children."

Laenor grinned, pressing a kiss against her cheek. "I love when you get all viscious. Unfortunate that I must depart from my beautiful lady wife and handsome little boy to dress myself for tonight's feast." He pressed another kiss to her lips to further seal the act, having noticed Sera emerge from her dressing room, before taking his leave.

The Great Hall was beautifully decorated with tables made of oak holding dragonglass vases filled with flowers, red, black, sea-green, and silver silks across the tables. Every seat was filled, with every Great House having arrived within the last two weeks and several smaller Houses having been invited as well.

House Hightower, House Redwyne, House Lannister, and House Bracken all wore green, whether it was a dress, jewelry, or a doublet. Everyone else within the hall wore black alongside their House colors, filling the hall with an array of colors.

House Targaryen and House Velaryon sat at the largest long table situated at the front of the hall, with nearly all of them in attendance. Princess Rhaenys, who had yet to be introduced to her grandson, had a pinched look upon her face, much to Ser Otto Hightowers delight.

It was very obvious to everyone that she thought, knew, that Prince Laenor and Crown Princess Rhaenyra's newbirn son was a bastard, likely begotten by Ser Harwin Strong.

The doors swung open, "Announcing Crown Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Heir to the Iron Throne, Heiress to the House of Targaryen, Future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, and her husband, Prince Laenor Velaryon, Heir to Driftmark, High Tide, and to the House of Velaryon, Future King Consort to Crown Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen."

The announcer did not give the name of the babe swaddled in Prince Laenors arms, giving the Royal Family that opportunity to officially announce him and his titles.

"My dearest daughter," King Viserys called, standing from his seat at the head of the table. "Lords and Ladies of the Realm, I must say today is a glorious day for the combined Targaryen-Velaryon. My heir has had her own heir and secured her lineage."

"Thank you, father. Thank you, Lords and Ladies, for traveling so far to be here with us on this joyous occasion. While I am before you tonight I wish to address the rumors about the birth of my son," Crown Princess Rhaenyra stated, holding herself with grace. Prince Laenor eyed the Hightowers who were all sharing small sneers with each other.

"Yesterday afternoon my wife began her labors within the Throne Room, before giving birth to my son early this morning in the shadow of the Iron Throne," Prince Laenor announced, fighting back a smirk when the sneers dropped and everyone one began whispering.

"Now, I would like to introduce our son. Crown Prince Jacaerys Targaryen, Heir to the Heiress of House Targaryen, and Heir to the Heir of the Iron Throne, Future King of the Seven Kingdoms!"

The Blacks cheered for their future Queen and King as Crown Princess Rhaenyra tilted her son towards the crowd, showing them his curly golden-whitr hair and dark skin.

"Now please, feast! Celebrate!" Laenor shouted, earning even louder cheers as the two rounded the table to sit down.

"Laenor," Rhaenys murmured, purple eyes boring into her gooddaughters head. "Princess Rhaenyra."

"Mother," Laenor greeted coldly, not even deigning to look at his mother. She glared at her son, making to speak before Corlys cut her off.

"Rhaenys," Corlys began, keeping his voice low. "Just hold the boy for a moment."

"I refuse."

Laenors muscles locked in place, grey-purple ryes flashing with fire. Rhaenyra knew that if they had been closer to the Dragon Pit they'd be able to hear Seasmokes roars of fury.

"Then I believe its high time you return to Driftmark, Princess Rhaenys," Laenor snarled, viciously stabbing a clam upon his plate. "I will not have my son mocked, I will not let you give the Greens fuel to attack my wife and son. So if you are going to act like a petty child than I do not desire to have your company during this celebration, nor does my wife or son."

Rhaenys and Corlys both gaped at their son as Rhaenyra smiled, placing a hand on the crook of his arm and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "I thank you, husband mine."

"Laenor . . ." Rhaenys hesitated when she saw the look in her sons eyes. "Fine. Let me see the babe."

Rhaenyra was reluctant to pass over her son to the woman who had been the source of several of their problems recently but she did. Jacaerys settled in his grandmothers arms, only opening his arms once he was comfortable.

Staring down at the babe that looked so similar to Laenor as a babe, Rhaenys could not help the wave of guilt that flowed through her. "Laenor, Rhaenyra, I–"

The deep gutteral bellow of a dragon made the castle shake, scaring the guests within the hall. Wives reached for husbands as men reached for blades, looking around wildly.

"That . . . Is that not Vermithor?" Corlys questioned, standing from his seat. King Viserys sought to calm the people but another riar from the Bronze Fury only stirred them up more.

Jacaerys cooed, purple eyes gleaning as he was taken back into his mothers arms. Looking down Rhaenyra found the same love she felt for Syrax, the same she saw reflected in Laenors eyes whenever he saw or spoke of Seasmoke, and she knew.

"SILENCE!" Laenor commanded, having recognized what was happening as well. "Vermithor is not here to attack, but to claim his rider."

Crown Princess Rhaenyra swept from the Great Hall, heading towards the courtyard that Vermithor would have to land in if he wished to fit.

The Bronze Fury was stunning with scales of beaten bronze and copper, red-bronze spikes around his narrow face and along his spine seemed to shine in the light of the setting sun.

Hundreds of people, nobility and smallfolk alike, were witness to Vermithor meeting Crown Prince Jacaerys Targaryen before allowing Prince Laenor and his rider upon his back for a flight around King's Landing. There was no possible way for Otto to manipulate the circumstances to better serve him. Everyone would know what had happened that day.

Crown Prince Jacaerys of House Targaryen, First of His Name, Heir to the Heir of the Iron Throne, Heir to the Heiress of House Targaryen, the Born King, the Divine Ruler, He Who Was Born in the Shadow of the Iron Throne, the Lawful, the Bringer of Justice, the Judge, the Rider of Vermithor, the Bronze Fury, the King's Mount, had been born.

The Deal of Gods and Humans

Prince Laenor of House Velaryon sat in a plush velvet chair within his wife's small study, sipping sour Arbor Gold from a golden chalice in silence as he watched Crown Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen stare out the window of her study. The light highlighted the features of her youth, reminding him of the heavy burden that had been placed upon his shoulders and was now shared between them. She was a little girl, still, with the weight of a Kingdom upon her shoulders and yet she stood with the strength of a dragon against the lit towers aiming to bring her crashing down.

"I'm sorry," Laenor murmured, tearing his wife from her thoughts. "If only the Gods had not made like this. If only they had made me like my father or Prince Daemon then maybe–"

"Stay your tongue!" Rhaenyra ordered, sharply. She whirled around, pale grey skirts swirling along her legs as she stalked towards him. "Had the Gods not made you this way then I would never have agreed to this marriage, no matter that my inheritance would be stripped away. I agreed to take you as my husband because I can trust you within this nest of vipers my home has become. You are my husband and my future King Consort, the man who shall aid my rule and support me."

Laenor gave a bitter, self-deprecating laugh, "I am the husband that cannot give his wife heirs. The man that cannot see a woman for the beauty she is, and feels no lust for the pleasures others speak of."

"We shall figure something out. It will just take time."

"What if you took a paramour? He could give you children that I could claim as mine. They would be mine in name and that is all that matters."

"And if they resembled any but me? Or you? They would be called bastards even if they were an exact copy of Rodrick Arryn or Jocelyn Baratheon as long as they did not have the Valyrian coloring. The Queen and her supporters would make our lives a living hell if she even had an inkling that they were bastards. Even now, she seeks to undermine me."

"I thought the wedding was her only move," Laenor stated, sitting up. Worry shone in his grey-purple eyes. They might not be in love as other matches were but they were partners.

"No. Every day she gathers the Ladies of the Keep for tea and speaks behind my back, spreading rumors of my virtue, of your taste in men, of how I am a heathen whore unfit to be the Heir to the Iron Throne," Rhaenyra sneered, sitting down in the weirwood chair behind her desk. A present from Lady Jeyne Arryn and Lady Amanda Arryn for her wedding.

"She dares speak ill of the Crown Princess? And none stop her or bring her words to the King or you, yourself?"

"Why would they? Each of them come from the Reach or Westerlands, supporters of her son as Heir and future King."

"Then we must dispel the rumors," Laenor stated, reaching into his doublet. He pulled out a letter, setting it on the desk between them. "My dear Laena has sent us a letter. She reminds me of the tales my father used to tell us before bed. Of Sea Serpents, Giants, Gods . . . and Demigods."

"Demigods?" Rhaenyra whispered, remembering the tales Daemon had once told her. "Children of both God and Man. What do those tales have to do with our problems?"

"For years we have hid how we worship the Fourteen Flames, let those of the Seven deem our culture as heathenistic and disrespectful. I believe she means for us to seek out our true Gods and ask for their help."

"They are Gods, Laenor. What could we possibly give them in return for three children?"

"Anything they wish. Rhaenyra if you wish to be Queen this might be our only option. We need trueborn heirs and who better than the Gods that shaped us and gave us dragons?"

"The same Gods who allowed hundreds of thousands of people be wiped by the Doom. The ones who allow us to be ridiculed and shamed even as Kings, Queens, and Heirs of Valyrian Houses. The only ones left of Old Valyria, might I add," Rhaenyra snapped, glaring.

Laenor did not let her flames deter him. "And what other option do we have? Let Prince Aegon be named Heir because you have no children to rule after you?"

Rhaenyra snarled, teeth baring as Syrax sang within her soul, black teeth bared as flamed gathered in her chest. "Watch yourself husband. I could take that as treason."

"But I speak the truth," Laenor stated, Seasmoke humming in the back of his mind, tail swishing across the dusty ground of his cave. "You said we would need trueborn children and I have given you a suggestion. It is either this, your give birth to bastards after taking a paranour, or remain childless and have your titles taken. Take your pick, wife."

Charged silence fell within the study as the two dragons stared each other down. Eventually, Rhaenyra acquiesced.

"Fine. In two days time we travel to Dragonstone. We will call it a honeymoon of sorts, as if we seek alone time for . . . things. The Temple of the Fourteen will hear our prayers and we shall see if the Gods will answer."

"Then it is decided."

—Temple of the Fourteen—

The Temple of the Fourteen was almost hidden behind Castle Dragonstone, even with how large it was. The rotunda had 14 stained glass windows, each displaying the symbol of one of the 14 Gods or Godesses sitting above the corrosponding statue. Made entirely out of black dragonglass with runes carved in and filled with Valyrian steel, the Temple was truly of Valyrian make and ancestry.

Over the two days planning their week long trip to the Isle of Dragonstone, they had argued over which statue to pray too, eventually agreeing upon the Goddess Meleys. She ruled over fertility, love, sexuality, mothers, and childbirth, so they had come to the realization that she would be a better fit than Arrax or Aegerax.

"It's beautiful," Laenor murmured, High Valyrian rolling of his tongue with an Essosi lilt that Lord Corlys and his sister both had. It brought a heat to Rhaenyra whenever she heard it even if she preffered how it sounded when Daemon spoke.

"It is." Rhaenyra and Laenor came to a stop before the white dragonglass statue of Meleys. Stood in a patch of dirt, a large myrtle tree had grown alongside her, manipulated to lean over her seemingly sheltering the Goddess who wore a floor length dress with long slits up the side leaving her most of her legs and bare feet exposed.

Held in her left hand was a mirror, as pearls draped across the exposed cut of her shoulders while long sleeves fell around her forearms. Perched upon her shoulder was a dove while a peacock stood at her side, long beautifull feathers carved and painted in detail.

"Do you remember the prayer?" Laenor asked as they both stared up into the gentle features carved into the statue.

"I have not had the time to forget it," Rhaenyra murmured dryly, unsure of if she should speak normally. Together they kneeled, bowing before the Goddess' statue.

"O' Meleys, O' Queen of the Gods, Goddess of Love, Goddess of Fertility, Goddess of Motherhood, Goddess of Childbirth, we seek your aid. As Heir to the Iron Throne and Heir to Driftmark, we ask you to provide us with heirs and a spare. To allow us to further our bloodlines, O' Queen of the Gods. Name a price and we shall pay it for three children borne of our blood."

The pyre that stood to her right suddenly lit with pale pink-whire fire, startling both of them. So focused they were, neither saw the statue move until she spoke, voice soft but firm, loving and kind.

"Greetings, Princess Rhaenyra, Chosen Heir. Greetings, Prince Laenor, Chosen Guardian. I have been awaiting your call for many moons."

Neither could find it within themselves to speak, staring at the talking statue with awe and fear in equal parts.

"Be not afraid. Your call has been anticipated and awaited eagerly." Her soft look melted to something sharp and protective. "The Promised Heir shall come from your blood, Rhaenyra, but due to your father's folly, in one line of fate they fall and the world is taken in the Long Night. No one is left, no dragons, no people, no wildlings. Only wights. To make sure this never comes to pass We, the Fourteen Flames, the Seven-Who-Are-One, and the Elder Gods have decided to intervene. We have decided to interfere with fate itself to make sure our favored survive and fight back the Long Night."

"Us? But my father said– when he told me of the prophecy . . ."

"Tessarion gave the prophecy to Aegon in the hopes that he would unite Westeros to prepare them for the Long Night. But after making them kneel he in turn kneeled for the Seven-Who-Are-One who have no control over any family of Valyrian Blood. We are not the only the ones that have been disrespected or forgotten.

"The supposed followers of the Seven have perverted and twisted the words of the Seven-Who-Are-One to fit their agendas, destroying the faith that once was. The Elder Gods are slowly being forgotten as we are, and with fewer and fewer worshipping us, we are dying."

"Dying?" Laenor asked, horrified. Every story ever told spoke of how a God could not be killed.

"Not in the way you understand but yes. Magic is being forcibly taken from your world, one of the few weapons that would secure your future. But we believe we have a way for this world to survive. Do you accept the responsibility, Rhaenyra Targaryen, Laenor Velaryon?"

They both hesitated, but looking upon her face, one that looked similar to Aemma's in Rhaenyra's eyes and one that looked sinilar to Rhaenys' for Laenor and they made their decision.

"We accept this responsibility, My Queen."

She smiled softly.

"From us you will be given 14 children, born of each of us with our favor to save the Targaryen, Velaryon, Celtigar, and Stark lines. The Seven-Who-Are-One and the Elder Gods have decided that their gifts will be given in secret to aid you. But I have another gift to offer you." Meleys' smile grew wider. "Would you like to hear the names of your children and who they are the child of?"

"Yes! Please, My Queen," Rhaenyra added, blushing fiercly at the outburst. While afraid to have so many children, a part of her was curious to know her future.

"The First. Son of Arrax, King of the Gods, Jacaerys Targaryen."

"The Second. Daughter of Tyraxes, Goddess of Peace. Alyssa Velaryon."

"The Third. Son of Caraxes, God of the Seas. Lucerys Velaryon."

"The Fourth. Son of Vhagar, Goddess of War. Maegor Velaryon."

"The Fifth. Daughter of Vermax, God of Travel. Visenya Velaryon."

"The Sixth. Son of Aegerax, God of Creation. Aerion Velaryon."

"The Seventh. Daughter of Tessarion, Goddess of Dreams. Daenys Velaryon."

"The Eighth. Daughter of myself, Goddess of Love. Aemma Velaryon."

"The Ninth. Son of Syrax, Goddess of Chaos. Saeryn Velaryon."

"The Tenth. Daughter of Meraxes, Goddess of the Sky. Rhaella Velaryon."

"The Eleventh. Son of Gaelithox, God of the Sun. Aegon Velaryon."

"The Twelfth. Son of Vermithor, God of Smiths. Aemon Velaryon."

"The Thirteenth. Daughter of Shrykos, Goddess of Beginnings. Valaena Velaryon."

"The Fourteenth. Son of Balerion, God of the Underworld. Baelon Velaryon."

"Tonight Tessarion shall visit you to give you the instructions on how to allow us to give you children. Be ready. Good luck."

The statue straightened back into her precious position and fell still, allowing complete silence to fall within the Temple.

"Well," Laenor began, mumbling. "I believe we should head to the Keep, should we not? A drink or two might help."

"I agree." With that the two retreated back to the castle to talk about what had just happened, and drink enough wine to help settle their nerves before Tessarion came to visit.

Valyrian Demigods of Westeros - Son of Vhagar

Prince Daemon held Dark Sisters hilt tightly as he listened to his niece's screams on the other side of the door. His wife, Lady Laena, and his goodbrother, Ser Laenor, were within comforting the princess as she birrhed her fourth child. It did not matter to him that she had had three successful births as his own mother had had two successful births before his late brother Aegon, he still worried for her safety.

It was not until he heard the desperate and fearful scream of Laena, yelling for him, that he moved. In one blow he knocked the door open, running into the birthing chamber.

Ser Laenor was fighting against a maester with a blade in hand as Rhaenyra screamed. Laena stood at her side, looking fully ready to lunge at the man if he nor Laenor could get him out. A midwife kneeled between Rhaenyra's legs, coaching and encouraging her even with the tremble of fear in her voice. His observation took less than two seconds before he was unsheathing Dark Sister, blade singing as it was pulled from the sheath.

The Maester looked to him in fear as Laenor shouted, "He attempted to murder Rhaenyra!"

That was all it took for Daemon to swing his blade with precision, completely severing the mans head. Blood sprayed into the air like a geyser, spraying over Laenor, Daemon, the midwife, and the newly born babe.

Wailing, the babe was quickly passed up to Rhaenyra who sobbed in relief, thanking Daemon as she cradled the babe close, whispering into blood and fluid soaked hair.

It took well over an hour for Rhaenyra to calm enough for them to wash the babe and for her and Laenor to give him a name. As they waited guards were admitted to drag away the body and feed it to Syrax, and the news was taken to the King.

"So? What name shall you give to my newest nephew?" Daemon asked, sprawled in a chair as Laena and Laenor sat beside Rhaenyra.

"Before we tell you we have a proposition for the two of you," Laenor stated, staring Daemon down with surprising confidence.

"A proposition? Do tell."

"The Stepstones," Rhaenyra began, tearing her gaze away from her babe. "Will be officially taken under the crown within the next month. A keep, garrison, and port is already being built on the main island and shall be given to my son when he is of age in 10-and-6 years. But until then it must be watched over by a regent, and I was hoping to name you, Uncle, or you, Laena, as his regents. You would be welcome there even after he took control and I would off her his hand in marriage to Baela, Rhaena, or any future daughters you have if it would please you "

Daemon and Laena stared at her before Laena asked, "Why? You could hire a castellan if you so wished. Why give us this responsibility?"

"Because you deserve it. You have supported us, even from afar. Your loyalty means everything to us," Laenor admitted, smiling awkwardly. "And the kids adore you. They would be highly distraught if you returned to Essos."

Laena laughed, sharing a look with Daemon. A silent conversation passed between the two before they turned their attention back to the two.

"If we take it, I wish to be given control of its garrison even after your, still unnamed, son takes it back."

"Done."

"Then we agree. We will care for our nephews castle and he will marry one of our daughters. Eventually, of course. Now, tell us his name," Laena commanded, holding her head up haughtily to make them laugh.

"We have chosen to name him Maegor ll Velaryon, to remind ourselves not to make the mistakes Aegon the Conquerer made," Laenor announced, smirking at the surprised looks on their faces.

"A powerful name," Daemon commented, grinning sharply. "One that will make the Highcunts shiver in remembrance. I applaud your choice niece, goodbrother."

"We're so happy to have your approval, Uncle," Rhaenyra deadpanned, making Laena snort loudly before to cover it up as Laenor began laughing at his sister.

Maegor was given back to his mother by an awed midwife, who spoke quietly to Rhaenyra as Laenor continued to poke fun at his sister.

"Is something the matter?" Daemon asked as the midwives filed from the room, leaving the four alone.

"She was informing me of the peculiar birth mark upon his left arm," Rhaenyra stated, gently unwrapping Maegor so she could them all the arm. Upon his chubby forearm was the sigil of Vhagar, something Laena and Daemon realized near simeoultaneously.

It was a long angular shield with a spear shape through one side and a sword theough the other. There were other details but they were hidden by the fact that it was underdeveloped.

"Rhaenyra, Laenor," Laena whispered, gently running her fingers over the markings. Both knew that they had recognized the mark, but seemed unaffected.

"You keep my secrets, I keep yours," Laenor murmured, dark eyes sharp. It did not matter that this was his goodbrother, a man that had seen war and held a valyrian blade. If Daemon threatened his wife or children, he would retaliate.

"I keep your secrets," Daemon agreed, understanding. "Now, when shall I have the pleasure of seeing Otto's face when he hears the name of the babe. And of course, the pleasure of seeing the Highcunt Queen throw a fit, how could I forget."

They chuckled, easing the atmosphere.

"In three days, Uncle. Be patient."

He scoffed, earning looks of genuine amusement between the three.

-----------------------

Queen Alicent perfectly arranged her children at her side, with Prince Aegon in the lead and Prince Daeron standing at the end. Her father, Ser Otto, stood beside Prince Daeron, pin of the Hand of the King shining brightly.

She glared at Princess Rhaenyra as she swept inside with her sword-swallowing husband, and heathen children following close behind. Held within her arms was the newest Prince of the Realm, whose name would be revealed to the court soon, while Ser Laenor held his heir, Prince Lucerys, in his arms. Prince Jacaerys and Princess Alyssa walked between their parents dressed in fine clothes.

"Princess Rhaenyra, my dearest daughter. Ser Laenor, my goodson. Prince Jacaerys, Princess Alyssa, Prince Lucerys, my grandchildren. I am glad you are all alright. Prince Daemon I thank you for your timely intervention. It saved my daughters life. It saved the Crown Princess's life," King Viserys stated, allowing silence to fall. "Lords and Ladies of the Realm, today my daughter stands here to introduce the newest Prince of the Realm, futhering her line of succession."

Viserys nodded to his daughter, sitting back dowm heavily. He ignored the look he recieved from his brother, Daemon, worried and surprised in equal measures.

"Lords and Ladies, I introduce to you Prince Maegor ll Velaryon, Heir to the Stepstones, chosen to remind us of the mistakes of Aegon the Conquerer. Until his 10-and-6 Nameday, his keep upon the islands shall be watched over by his chosen regents, Prince Daemon, and his lady wife, Lady Laena."

The news had everyone in a titter, surprised that the King had allowed a Keep to be built uppn the Stepstones at all but the man was deep to his eldest daughter and had caves after much insistance.

Ser Otto and Queen Alicent were angry and shocked respectively. None of her sons had been given Keeps, while all four of her children had inheritances to recieve.

The scales only tipped further in the Blacks favor.

Prince Maegor Velaryon, Second of His Name, Heir to the Stepstones, Born in Blood, the Warrior, the Fierce, the Wild, the Warhammer had been born.

The Birth of Baelon and Aemon Targaryen - 117 A.C.

Rhaenyra threw back her head with a fearful scream, clutching Rhaenys and Laena's hands like lifelines. The midwife in front of her urged her to push, which she did, whilst throwing out curses at her husbands though only Rickon was present.

The Northman hovered by her shoulders, prasiding her and taking her words without worry. He might not truly understand the pain of birth but his father had talked of how his own mother had cursed at him, and then had a second child.

"The babe is almost here, Princess. One more push."

"One more Rhaenyra," Rhaenys said, squeezing her hand. "Just one more. You can do it."

Screaming the vabe was finally pushed out but there was no cry and Rhaenyra felt her heart break, devestation filling her. Then a tiny wail cut the ait and she couldn't help the sob of relief.

"A boy, Princess, Lord Stark."

Rhaenyra went to reach for her baby only to feel another wave of pain that made her scream.

"The afterbirth," Another midwife said, pushing the other away. She leaned down only to freeze in shock before straightening. "Princess, you need to push. Now."

Rhaenyra screamed, louder than before, but did as she said. Across the room the babe wailed louder, as if he was afraid for her. With a final push, the midwife pulled a second babe from her. "Another boy, Princess, my Lord. Congratulations."

"Another?" Rhaenyra asked, staring at the bloodied babe in the womans arms. "Twins? How did-? How did the Maester not catch this?"

"Twins are difficult to catch, my Princess. But now we know how you carry twins and we can prepare next time."

Rhaenyra nodded slowly, but Laena was practically bouncing in place. "Oh, Cousin, twins! How wonderful! What shall you name them?"

Rickon and Rhaenys brought the cleaned babes to her allowing her to hold the oldest, who was quick to find her tit and latch on. The second was supported by Rhaenys and feasted as well.

"The oldest will be my heir. Baelon Targaryen, Heir to Dragonstone. The second will be Daemons heir. Aemon Targaryen, Heir to the Embar Glass Isles."

"Strong names," Rhaenys murmured, eyes softening.

"Thank you, Good-mother."

-----------

Rhaenyra and her husbands all watched with bated breath as Baelon and Aemons eggs wiggled and cracked. Baelon suddenly cooed, reaching for his egg just as a large crack split it down the middle. It fell open revealing a deformed black, red, and gold dragon who lifted his head up and revealed green eyes watching them curiously. Baelon clapped in delight reaching for his hatchling who scrambled up the crib and used Rhaenyra's dress to get to him.

Aemon made the sane sound Baelon did and his own egg opened revealing a gold and red she-dragon who looked like a mirror image of Syrax when she was a hatchling. The hatchling sung her song and climbed up the crib before launching herself into Daemons arms to reach Aemon.

They all shared looks of awe. Syrax had laid the eggs almost as soon as Rhaenyra had announced her own pregnancy, and allowing her to take both eggs.

In the years following the hatchlings were eventually named Morghul, after the Valyrian word for death, and Shrykos for the goddess of roads.

King Viserys had called his Small Council, his daughter Rhaenyra, her husbands, the Velaryon family, his wife, and his sons. He announced that, as he had never announced an heir after disinheriting Rhaenyra, they were to show him why they should be the heir and eventual ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.

Otto went first, advacating for Aegon. "Aegon is your firstborn son, Your Grace. I believe the people would feel more assured if a son ascended the throne as we are in tumultous times. Perhaps in the future a Queen will rule, but I do not believe now is the time for change."

Alicent agreed, advicating for Aegon. "I agree with ny Father, your Hand, husband. Aegon has also been married by the faith to Halaena in the ways of the Targaryens and now has an heir himself. Jahaerys."

Tyland Lannister, Maester Orwyle, and Jasper Wylde all advocated for Aegon.

Rickon advocated for Rhaenyra. "Your Grace. My wife rebuilt the North, making us stronger than ever. Her farmers on Dragonstone taught ours to raise and shear sheep, and then make the wool into warm, thick clothes. And in winter their meat provides."

"Her dragons created caves to nest in and discovered iron depots within, allowing us to trade in iron and weapons. Our trade with the Vale, the Stormlands, Driftmark, the Embar Glass Isles, and Dragonstone has given us the supplies to prepare for winter."

"In 118, when we had settled she had fishermen sent to the North to test something. We learned there were plenty of clams, and fish for us, and now the sea provides as our woods do."

Laenor advocated for Rhaenyra. "My wife has helped repare the rift between your family, Your Grace, and mine. She has created the fleet of the Fourteen Flames led by Ser Vaemond Velaryon, my uncle, on the ship, Arrax that now patrols Dragonstones waters. She created the army of the Second Sons, giving second sons something to fight for. They now patrol Dragonstone and protect the people from traders and others who would do them harm."

Daemon advocated for Rhaenyra. "Your Grace, Rhaenyra has taken control of the Stepstones, or as we have renamed them, the Embar Glass Isles, because of their abundance of sea glass. This opened trade with Dorne themselves, who quite adore the shards. Almost every isle has a barrack or castle, a garrison to defend it, and a fleet to patrol the waters."

"Dragonstone is now the center of trade for the Vale, the Stormlands, the North, Driftmark, and the Isles. We want for nothing. We have enough coin to last us many years. The Seven Kindoms would prosper under her rule. And any man who decided that it wasn't her place to rule would face Dark sister and I. As well as our husbands, and their families and lands. No one would think to attack us if Rhaenyra ruled."

Corlys Velaryon advocated for Rhaenyra. "Princess Rhaenyra has repared the slight you dealt to us when you married a daughter from a second son without giving any others a chance. She has given my brother a place as fleet commander, my daughter is an ambassador for Rhaenyra in Pentos and Essos. My son is now her prince consort and would rule as King Consort beside her. Our trade has expanded because of her. What has your son done in the years he's been your supposed heir?"

Rhaenys advocated for Rhaenyra. "Your Queen spoke of how the succession has been secured because of Aegons single son, Jaeharys I believe. But Rhaenyra has 16 children. And if she became Queen all would be her line of succession until her eldest, Baelon had children. She has brought back the dwindling numbers of the Targaryen family, as well as the dragons."

"19 dragons currently rest on Dragonstone, and each has a rider. There is Syrax, Caraxes, and Seasmoke. There is Morghul, Shrykos, Āeksion, Ānogar, Moondancer, and Morning. Tyvaros, Meraxes, Tyraxes, Tessarion, Cloudjumper, Vermax, and Arrax. 3 of her children have claimed Vermithor, Silverwing, and Grey Ghost."

"Your family, Your Grace, has two dragons. Sunfyre, an adolescent who is barely larger than a carruage despite his age and Dreamfyre whose rider. I doubt would ever fight in a war."

Laena advocated for Rhaenyra. "Your grace, Rhaenyra has fone something no other woman has. She has allowed her daughters, alongside her sons, to learn to fight. Each is well versed in sword fighting alongside their prefferred weapon and all hold Valyrian weapons."

"Dorne has been brought into the fold because of Rhaenyra and likely would not respond well to Aegon who does not seem to have . . . the delicacy needed to speak with them."

Lyman Beesbury advocated for Rhaenyra. "Your Grace, I have served you well and Rhaenyra has done incredible work. The crown recieves more coin from the North, the Vale, the Stormalnds, and Driftmark, than every other land. It is because of her the crown is so well off. I believe that it is time for change. Princess Rhaenys was passed over because we weren't ready, but now . . . Now Rhaenyra is ready."

Viserys, who had gone pale hearing everything his daughter had done, especially after he learned of her children and their dragons, looked to Aegon. "And you, Aegon? What is your wish?"

Aegon hesitated, glancing between his own mother and grandfather before his eyes flickered to Rhaenyra. "I advocate for Princess Rhaenyra, Your Grace. She will sit the Iron Throne better than I ever could."

At his side Alicent paled dramatically, as Otto turned red. Aemond eyed his brother with confusion, but Haelaena, she looked satisfied, and relieved.

"Rhaenyra?"

"I advocate for myself, Your Grace. My husbands, my good-family, and Lord Beesbury have given you all why I should rule."

Viserys nodded, and slowly climbed to his feet. "I will make my announcent on the morrow. For now, I rest and think."

Once the king had left, and everyone else had left, leaving Alicent and Otto with her sons, Otto whirled on Aegon. "She will kill you! Do you not understand, you fool! The Princess will order Daemon to bring her heads to her jsut to make sure you could never rule. She will kill your son and your daughter."

"If Rhaenyra wanted your sons dead, she'd have had them killed years ago before she was disinherited," Daenon drawled, emerging from the shadows with two strangers at his side.

The one to his right had black, curly hair streaked with silver-gold, and dark, purple eyes that seemed to glow in the low light of the throne room. He wore red, black and gold armor over his riding leathers, with a longsword at his waist.

The one to his left had braided silver hair and pale lilac eyes that screamed amusement, his dark skin contrasting his companions paler skin. His armors were predominently gold and black with red braces on his armes over his rider leathers. He wore a longsword at his hip with a ruby cut in the shape of a tear drip resting on the pommel.

"Ah, yes. I guess you were nver introduced. Our sons, Baelon Targaryen, heir to Dragonstone, and Aemon Targaryen, Heir to the Embar Glass Isles.

Alicent paled further as the door was swung open and Rhaenyra, Rickon and Laenor swept inside with 14 more children, guards, and horrifingly, 18 Direwolves. Some stood as tall as horses or ponies while some weren't much bigger than dogs.

"I apoligize, Queen Alicent. I believed you all would have left to see to other things. I had hoped to show ny children the famed Iron Throne," Rhaenyra stated. The little girls at her side, who were twins so alike it was impossible to tell them apart were squinting at the throne before one spoke up.

"It's ugly, Muña. When you sit in it you should add cushions."

"Father has yet to make his decision Aemma. We do not know if I will sit the throne."

"The King would be dumb not to choose you."

"Alyssa," Rhaenyra warned.

The twin ti the meft grinned and chirped, " I'm Alyssa, Muña."

"Yeah. How could you confuse us?"

Rhaenyra sighed, though it was fond, and rest her hands on their braided hair. "If you continue switching places, I'll punish both of you."

Both girls backed down with a chorused, "Yes Muña. We're sorry, Muña."

Alicent watched as the oldest girl, at least she assumed, passed her mother to join her father and her brothers it seemed. She nearly recoiled when she saw the shaved side of her head, with all of her silver-gold hair braided into a single, thick braid.

The girl was closely followed by a curly white haired, lanky yoing man who seemed to be the same age as her. He seemed nervous, indigo eyes darting around and taking everything in.

Baelon smiled, leaning down slightly to press a kiss against his sister-wife's lips, murmuring a greeting.

With horror, Alicent watched as he did the same to Lucerys before he pulled them close so they could talk.

None of Rhaenyra's family seemed bothered by the heathens, but her family all looked horrified, or confused in Aegons case.

Aegons suddenly stepped forward calling for his sisters attention. Rhaenyra looked at him cooly, thoughts hidden beneath a mask.

"I wish to know what shall happen if you ascend the Iron Throne. Where will we go?"

"I have heard Prince Aemond is a skilled swordsman. If he wished he could squire beneath any of the Kingsguard, or ny own personal guard. And if he rose through the ranks, I see no readon for him not to become the leader of the Second Sons of Dragonstone."

"Prince Daeron, who must still be fostering in Hightower, could stay if he wished. There are rumors he is training to be a Maester, yes? Then he would be welcome as Dragonstones Maester should he ever wish. And if he chooses a different path, I am sure I will find a position for him."

"But I am unsure as to where to place you, Aegon. My son, Baelon, would be my cupbearer so I cannot offer you that position. And I doubt you'd want any other. Do you have any ideas?"

"Larys Strong has been officially titled the Master of Whispers. I admit the position is interesting."

"Then it would be yours. If you proved yourself capable of holding it. And Halaena. Wherever you wish to go, I will grant you."

"The keep is my home," Halaena murnured, feebly.

"And your home it would stay. Your mother could return to Oldtown or stay. It eould be her choice."

They all noticed how she said nothing of Otto.

Aegon hoped Viserys chose her. He didn't want to be King, he never had.

Rhaenyra hoped Viserys chose her. The Hightowers were destroying the realm. She would fix it an dleave it stronger than ever for her son and his.

HotD episode 6 was astonishing, I had been unsure of the flow now that the first segment was over but I have been left completely satiated.

My mind was raging by the end of the episode and I couldn't help but awe at the subte portrayals the show holds mastery over.

Once again, the main theme of how a dragon can never be subdued is reflected so calmly yet powerfully.

The true power of House Targaryen over House Valerion.

We first see this in the conversation between Daemon and Leana at the table with the other lords. Laena's wish to decline the offer is ever so silently disregarded. The frame where Daemon's hand rests on top of Laena's, wearing a ring which symbolizes royalty.

We see this yet again, when Rhaenyra has been holding back her anger (even having tears in her eyes) and finally unleashes on Laenor and commands him to remain at her side.

The episode also reflected certain cruel ironies...

Alicent's children only wearing green, symbolizing their mother's banner of war still stands proud while Rhaenyra's children wear blue... the color of Ser Harwin's eyes.

Ser Harwin's created life due to his affliction with a dragon (targaryen), yet rather than being protected by it, he was killed by fire. (I really loved seeing him as a father and I wish we could've gotten more scenes of him with the boys).

Alicent trying to bring back Otto Hightower as the hand only gave light to one cruel fact...Even partiality is fair when it's in favor of our own.

Laena's death was by no means less than that of a dragon rider. While the battle she fought was different, I'm glad Vhagar honored her command. (Her death really brought me to tears) Nevertheless, I'm glad that Daemon refused to make a choice on her behalf. Atleast in that sense, he is better than his brother.

I have not read the books and all my interpretations are based solely on the show.

Link to previous post:

https://at.tumblr.com/strollthroughstars29/coming-to-the-feast/hzcat81w8qxu