Rhaenys Targaryen - Blog Posts

I just realised that when Vhagar had her teeth wrapped around Meleys neck, Meleys lifted her legs probably trying to fight back with her claws.

NO.ONE.TALK.TO.ME

Also I keep thinking the man on the council repeating that war will follow if Rhaenyra ascends the throne, if the Targaryens were a united family who would dare go to war with them, at this point they have Rhaenys, Daemon, Rhaenyra, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Baela who are all dragon riders. They were to busy hating on each other bc both teams did their best to push away the other team.

Rhaenys the conqueror

Trying to figure out a vibe for the conquerors…

Imagine

Can we imagine the Targaryens, reacting to a modern myopic s/o or with a vision problem that requires a pair of glasses?

The first time they see her/him/them...

The day she/he/they loses her/his/their's glasses and she/he/they looks for them (a bit like Velma in scooby doo)...

The day they try to see with the glasses of their's s/o...

And all the other possibilities.

Aegon (VI) & the Apple of Discord

Cast: Aphrodite!Shiera, Hera!Rhaenys, Athena!Visenya, Paris!Aegon VI

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Undaunted now, Aegon turned his face to look upon the deathless goddesses: Rhaenys, gilded in splendorous regality; Visenya, ablaze with noble might; and Shiera, sweet with tender blooms and all the foliage of spring.

The fated son of Rhaegar lamented that not all could win. But still, one pleased him more.

“Of winning all are worthy,” began Aegon the shepherd-prince, before turning his clear-eyed gaze upon the goddess of love, “but—”

“Young Aegon.”

Bright-eyed Visenya, swift to sense the shifting tide, stepped forward before the offending verdict could fall. She took the youth by the hand, smiling. “Leave Rhaenys, and heed not Shiera—but look toward me, who aids the prowess of men. Come, and I will bestow upon you battle wisdom unrivaled and immortal skill in war.”

Aegon moved to speak, but Rhaenys the Queen claimed the moment for herself.

“Dear child of fate,” said the queen of gods, “elect me, and I shall make you king of the Nine Free Cities. Pentos, land of your false father. Braavos of the Hundred Isles. Myr, where art and learning flourish, and Qohor, where iron bends to no one. Norvos, Lorath, Lys. Proud Volantis in the south. Tyrosh, the city of color.”

White-armed Rhaenys raised her scepter high, a golden crown glittering in her gaze. “War is the burden of the ruled. A king commands with but a word. Elect me, and you shall stand above all thrones.”

Great was their desire for victory, Wisdom and Queen plying the Judge’s favor with the wondrous gifts of their domains. The Judge wavered, uncertain—for how could one choose between the valorous heart and power over men?

Sweetly, Love smiled.

“Forget weary war, sweet Aegon. Cast aside your thoughts of crippling crowns. Do not let such gifts ensnare you. I speak not of Rhaenys nor Visenya, for mine own realm is greater still. For what is conquest without beauty to inspire it? What is kingship without a woman’s heart to share it?”

Shiera Seastar reached forward and brushed a stray curl from Aegon's brow, her rosy fingers feather-light. Her touch lingered like a promise. Behind her, the Charites and Horae sang a song of love and doom so sweet it ached.

“It is naught but ash, dear one. And so my gift shall be of love."

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

Snippet from Godspun, Prologue.

(Old sketches) Aenys and Maegor Targaryen