tangled strings make a web ...

"Do not speak of a story you only know the half of."

"I admit, I find my father's testimony somewhat lacking. He claims that your mother attacked Princess Rhaenyra unprovoked. I have prayed beside Queen Alicent in the Sept, and I cannot imagine she would resort to such measures unless compelled by great injustice."

Queen Shireen Baratheon, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm

An elegantly etched Partisan,

OaL: 6.5 in/256.5 cm

Head Length: 30 in/76.2 cm

Width: 7.9 in/20.2 cm

Weight: 4.5 lbs/2024.2 g

CERSEI LANNISTER + LIONESS EATING HER OWN CUBS.

- on grieving our past selves

"On that much we agree. It will doom us all, if we are not careful." She admitted softly. Rhaella had never been so open with her feelings toward her father before - but if anyone could understand her situation, it would be the prince who had suffered a lifelong injury for the sake of 'preserving' the Targaryen line. "It seems that fathers are a frequent disappointment in this family. As for beheading--" her smile widened to a sardonic tilt of the mouth, "I cannot say exactly what would cause it, but I shall inform you immediately if such an occasion arises."

Rhaella was not violent by nature, but there were times when her anger got the better of her. She hated the person she became in those moments.

Despite her musings, she did not miss how Aemond's gaze traversed the weapons the way an artisan might look upon his tools. This opportunity to learn more of the infamous Aemond One-Eye was too intriguing to pass up. "Training was my intention," She confirmed. "I was taught to use a spear almost as soon as I was tall enough to hold one, at my grandfather's insistence. A family tradition, I suppose." Rhaella shrugged a braid of dark red hair from her shoulder. "The Master-at-Arms on Dragonstone has always favored a sword however, and I expect I'm sorely out of practice with only him and the young princes for opponents." The tacit invitation lingered in the air. She wanted to get the measure of this man and see if he was truly as good as they said. That, and she was desperate for a real challenge.

In the name of diplomacy, she ignored whatever slanders he voiced against Rhaenyra and Lucerys, and the way she rankled at hearing her mother described as just another place for Daemon to 'wet his cock.' Instead, she tried to focus on the positives to be found in the exchange. . .

Her sisters! There, at least, was a subject she felt no fear for being honest. Her grin was open and affectionate. "Baela is fierce, and intelligent. Rhaena is just as clever, with a sweetness that is quite disarming ; I am proud to call them my sisters. Both will make fine liege ladies, I am certain." Legitimacy aside, he was right - Baela was the eldest child of the eldest child - Driftmark should have been hers from birth. "I understand you have three siblings of your own? I haven't yet had the privilege to speak with them."

Aemond's temper was a fierce one. He had learned how to control and channel it into something more productive…

One of those ways was training. Training was a way that Aemond could let wherever emotions that had been bubbling up out, no matter what it was. It was something that he understood the moment that a sword was in his hand. "The spear is a weapon that I haven't had much experience with. I put a lot of my focus into the swords and knives.." He murmured as his hands reached out to touch the hilts of the swords, wondering which one he might pick this training session. "Yes, it seems that we do more work with swords. Sometimes the bow. I suppose its just whatever the pupil wants. I haven't had a chance to train with the master at Dragonstone. How do they fare?" Aemond was curious to know if nephews had possibly been doing well in their own training but he didn't believe they would be on his level. Most weren't. The squires here were getting better but Aemond mostly sparred with Criston and even bested him at times.

The Prince didn't really mind what he said about his half sister and nephews. They probably spoke the same about him and his family in similar terms, he had no doubt the Rogue Prince did. There was little to no love between their families or that's what Aemond believed. He had never been taught different. Even his own father favored them over his other children.

The Dragon Twins were a mixture of both their mother and father but Baela seemed to be the one who was almost a mirror of Daemon. It made him wondered how she had settled just to marry Jace and be the Queen when he took the throne. "They deserve more than just wedding. Both of them. I do hope they are happy and all.." He wasn't going to be overly talkactive about them given he didn't have much to say on the matter but at least they were treating her kindly. "Yes, I have two brothers, one older and one younger. My sister." He answered. His sister was the one he spent the most time with. Aegon was lost most days to his cups or whores, perhaps both. Daeron was in Oldtown and that left him with Helaena on some days.

"The Gods were kind enough to give me my grandsire, for a time." She smiled fondly, though her eyes were mournful. "The late Lord Gylland allowed my mother to raise me at Giantsfall, and oversaw my upbringing as diligently as if I had been a trueborn granddaughter. He was my father, in every way that mattered." Even after four years she missed him; missed the Vale. Missed the life she once had.

Training with the spear was one of the few ways she could still feel like a Gylland rather than a Dragonseed, if only for a few minutes. It seemed that Aemond found a similar comfort in the activity. "I cannot fault your preference for the sword, highness. I can handle a blade well enough, but my size puts me at something of a disadvantage in close combat against most opponents. I have had to work to adapt for the imbalance." Despite her skill, Rhaella knew her weaknesses and admitted to them; her grandfather had once said that was the mark of a true warrior. "Ser Corbyn is suited enough as Master-at-arms, and dedicated to teaching the Princes. The boys have progressed fairly under his tutelage, and Jacaerys has become a proficient swordsman as befits his rank." Proficient, but hardly anything remarkable, in her opinion. "But Ser Corbyn is no Ser Criston Cole - you are fortunate, to have been taught by him."

She knew little of what had occured between Ser Criston and Princess Rhaenyra; only that something had occured, and that the name of Queen Alicent's sworn protector was as good as a curse to her Father. Still, his reputation as a warrior was undeniable.

"I agree that merely being wife to a Lord or King is a poor consolation, but it does guarantee them some power and security in the years to come." Which was more than she could say of her own future. "I'm sure my sisters would be grateful to hear you speak so highly of them after so many years." She nodded attentively as Aemond spoke of his own siblings. "I'm told that Princess Helaena recently delivered twins - a boy and a girl, if I remember correctly."

Not that she could easily forget the rage Daemon flew into when the news of the birth reached Dragonstone. Rhaella had never seen the true depth of his contempt for the Queen and her family until she heard him seething venom that with a single birth, 'the whelp of that Hightower whore has gotten himself an heir and a womb to marry it to'. Her effort at a pleasant smile was still there, but tightened at the memory. "If I am given the opportunity, I should like to congratulate her for such a grueling feat." She spoke truthfully - the few times she had seen Princess Helaena, she had seemed to be a gentle, if reclusive, young woman. To go through the horrors of childbirth at only a few years older than Rhaella must have been terrifying.

"And there have been many insults."

Still, there was little sense in antagonising him; Rhaella had no desire to make an enemy of such a man. Instead, she stood with a small nod of respect. "Did you come to train?" She could think of no other reason for the prince to be in the yard at this hour. "Please, do not let my presence hinder you."

His scathing assessment of Princess Rhaenyra and her sons was as unsurprising as it was understandable. Lucerys had taken his eye, for seven's sake! And neither he nor his mother had ever expressed regret for their actions that day. But she knew better than to voice her dissent outright; just as he said, family was all that mattered. "Princess Rhaenyra tolerates my presence and has been gracious enough to grant me a position in her household as a dragonrider and attendant to Lady Baela and Lady Rhaena." There was little warmth between Rhaenyra and her husband's bastard, but nor was there open hostility. "In truth we rarely speak, and even then only briefly." She sometimes wondered if she'd even be afforded that, if not for having claimed the 'unclaimable' dragon.

"On that much we agree. It will doom us all, if we are not careful." She admitted softly. Rhaella had never been so open with her feelings toward her father before - but if anyone could understand her situation, it would be the prince who had suffered a lifelong injury for the sake of 'preserving' the Targaryen line. "It seems that fathers are a frequent disappointment in this family. As for beheading--" her smile widened to a sardonic tilt of the mouth, "I cannot say exactly what would cause it, but I shall inform you immediately if such an occasion arises."

Rhaella was not violent by nature, but there were times when her anger got the better of her. She hated the person she became in those moments.

Despite her musings, she did not miss how Aemond's gaze traversed the weapons the way an artisan might look upon his tools. This opportunity to learn more of the infamous Aemond One-Eye was too intriguing to pass up. "Training was my intention," She confirmed. "I was taught to use a spear almost as soon as I was tall enough to hold one, at my grandfather's insistence. A family tradition, I suppose." Rhaella shrugged a braid of dark red hair from her shoulder. "The Master-at-Arms on Dragonstone has always favored a sword however, and I expect I'm sorely out of practice with only him and the young princes for opponents." The tacit invitation lingered in the air. She wanted to get the measure of this man and see if he was truly as good as they said. That, and she was desperate for a real challenge.

In the name of diplomacy, she ignored whatever slanders he voiced against Rhaenyra and Lucerys, and the way she rankled at hearing her mother described as just another place for Daemon to 'wet his cock.' Instead, she tried to focus on the positives to be found in the exchange. . .

Her sisters! There, at least, was a subject she felt no fear for being honest. Her grin was open and affectionate. "Baela is fierce, and intelligent. Rhaena is just as clever, with a sweetness that is quite disarming ; I am proud to call them my sisters. Both will make fine liege ladies, I am certain." Legitimacy aside, he was right - Baela was the eldest child of the eldest child - Driftmark should have been hers from birth. "I understand you have three siblings of your own? I haven't yet had the privilege to speak with them."

" And according to most, baseborn children are treacherous by nature, always grasping above their station. 'tis better that I remain separate from all but my family, lest I be accused of the same. " For all her reservations regarding her father, she could never bring herself to act against Princess Rhaenyra and her children, let alone Baela and Rhaena. " I dread to think of Prince Daemon's reaction should he believe me guilty of disloyalty. " Even now, she wondered if this conversation could be taken as a betrayal.

"Some bastards already have things in their hands that were happily placed there." He spoke, thinking of his Strong nephews. Lord of the Tides. The Heir to the Iron Throne. It seemed bastards could have whatever they wished. "Yes, he can be rather rash with his judgments and punishments. It's all for his family, of course. I'm sure my whore of a half-sister has welcomed you with open arms?" There was no love between Aemond and Rhaenyra, and never would be. Her son had taken his eye, and she had wanted him sharply questioned over an insult. Well, it was a fact. Everyone knew. Now, everyone was learning about Daemon's daughter.

"And there have been many insults."

Still, there was little sense in antagonising him; Rhaella had no desire to make an enemy of such a man. Instead, she stood with a small nod of respect. "Did you come to train?" She could think of no other reason for the prince to be in the yard at this hour. "Please, do not let my presence hinder you."

His scathing assessment of Princess Rhaenyra and her sons was as unsurprising as it was understandable. Lucerys had taken his eye, for seven's sake! And neither he nor his mother had ever expressed regret for their actions that day. But she knew better than to voice her dissent outright; just as he said, family was all that mattered. "Princess Rhaenyra tolerates my presence and has been gracious enough to grant me a position in her household as a dragonrider and attendant to Lady Baela and Lady Rhaena." There was little warmth between Rhaenyra and her husband's bastard, but nor was there open hostility. "In truth we rarely speak, and even then only briefly." She sometimes wondered if she'd even be afforded that, if not for having claimed the 'unclaimable' dragon.

“Hello,” Shireen curtseyed in greeting. “It was… quiet, thank you. Please, could someone look after my mother? She has been unwell the last few days and needs somewhere to rest…”

"Thank you for warning me. She will not prevail, I swear."

Her uncle had always unsettled her. His cold eyes seemed to pierce through her, and she hated the way his stare hardened with something unknowable whenever they landed on Robert's children. Whatever common cause he'd found with the Priestess, she feared it would not bode well for her family. But it seems she had found an ally in her young cousin; she wouldn't take that for granted.

The exchange lasted mere seconds, barely a handful of words before the discussion returned to lighter things. Any outsider would look at the pair and think them nothing more than two highborn maidens, giggling over some trivial gossip or speaking of the latest fashions. Being underestimated had its uses, she found.

As for her dream of educating the people of King's Landing, she was less optimistic than her cousin. She sighed. "I wish I had the power to implement such a change. Sadly, there is a greater chance of Dorne seeing snow in Summer than my father and his council agreeing to enact it. I have no voice in the affairs of the kingdom; even if by some miracle I was able to propose the idea, no lord or septon would stand to see their authority challenged by educated peasants." Knowledge - and the restriction thereof - was the foundation on which their system was built. "If the smallfolk could read, they might begin to question the fairness of their laws or the teachings of their faith; ignorance keeps them compliant." It was a bleak truth, but a truth nonetheless. Shireen had been fortunate that the isolation Dragonstone allowed her to educate its inhabitants. The rest of Westeros would not be so willing.

The kindness in her smile was genuine this time, as Shireen voiced her gratitude. "And I truly enjoy yours. You have been hidden away on Dragonstone far too long; it is high time that you step out from the shadows." She stood, excitedly taking both of Shireen's hands in her own.

"You must allow me to introduce you to some of my Ladies! Myrcella too, when she is well." Already, Ceryse was mentally sorting through which of her handmaidens would be most likely to take a liking to Shireen.

𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧  𝐝𝐲𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲  𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝  𝐚𝐬𝐤  𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬

a collection of in depth questions inspired by nicknames of crowned leaders in grrm’s targaryen dynasty.          change pronouns and/or other details as needed.        fantasy/period/medieval genre details apply.

aegon the conqueror — [forge a new dynasty.]     to what lengths would my muse go to achieve their greatest goal?   what is, or has been, their life’s crowning glory?   how have they carved a new future for themselves in a time of upheaval?

maegor the cruel — [fire and steel over words.]   how is my muses temper?   how do they handle having power and desiring vengeance?   do they offer mercy, or do they give no quarter?

the old king; jaehaerys — [time and prosperity.]     in their life so far, how has time, age and wisdom (or the lack thereof) helped or hindered them?  what lessons have they learned in their life thus far?  how do they feel about growing old, and the legacy they will leave behind?

aemond one-eye — [loss defining the person.]    what is a loss that people know them for; whether physical or otherwise?   how has this loss defined how they see themselves and how they live their life?   how has it influence the way they are perceived?

daenerys stormborn — [preserving a dynasty.]     how much would, or has, my muse endured and suffered in the name of survival?   what does survival and the preservation of self look like to them?   how far would they go to live the life they envision they deserve?

good queen alysanne — [fearlessly good.]     do they devote a part of themselves, their lives, or their resources, to a charitable cause?   why, or why not?    if applicable, how does my muse choose to educate themselves on others perspectives?

queen who never was; rhaenys — [remaining graceful in disrespect.]    how, in general, does my muse handle their public self in the face of dismissiveness and/or disrespect?    have they been severely slighted by their family or loved ones?    how have they managed to keep relationships after this, or these, incidents?     how forgiving are they to those who have hurt them?

aegon the dragonbane — [when fear drives destruction.]   what is my muses greatest fear, and why or how has that fear been instilled in them?   how do they react when faced with that fear?   how does it impact their daily life? 

baelor the blessed — [piousness may beget blindness.]     how does their religion, or the religion/s of their society influence or impact them?   have they been lead astray or blinded by certain constructs of their religion?

daena the defiant — [confinement breeds rebellion.]    how have their desires and dreams been limited by others?   from what source does their rebelliousness come?   what lengths have they gone to to execute their desires?

aegon the unworthy — [lust, gluttony and desire ruled.]     of the seven deadly sins; which are pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony and sloth, which has ruled and corrupted my muse the most over their life?   what is an example of when they succumbed to this particular ‘sin’?     how have their weaknesses and succumbing to this/these ‘sins’ spoiled others opinions of them?

aerion the monstrous — [madness is vindictively cruel.]     in my muses life have they been exposed to any form of ‘madness’, whether in themselves or others?    do they see their potential, or existing, ‘madness within’?   when facing perceived disrespect, to what lengths will they go to achieve revenge?

daenys the dreamer — [our tragedy foretold.]    does my muse believe in the concept of prophecy or the diving of the future?    have they ever experienced an event where they seemed, or did, view the future?; if so, expand on that experience.     are they gifted, blessed, or cursed, in any sort of ‘magical’ way? if so; do they use this to the benefit of others, why?

@fatescrosscd

Making friends had never been something that Aemond was ever good at. He had barely gotten along with his nephews. They had never been kind to him and why should he ever return the favor? "Why must you hold yourself apart?" He asked. Curiosity rarely struck him but when it did then he had to find out the answer.

" And according to most, baseborn children are treacherous by nature, always grasping above their station. 'tis better that I remain separate from all but my family, lest I be accused of the same. " For all her reservations regarding her father, she could never bring herself to act against Princess Rhaenyra and her children, let alone Baela and Rhaena. " I dread to think of Prince Daemon's reaction should he believe me guilty of disloyalty. " Even now, she wondered if this conversation could be taken as a betrayal.

Rhaella had thus far kept her distance from Prince Daemon's trueborn daughters, as much for their sake as her own; she was under no illusions that her sudden arrival would be easy to accept. It wasn't so hard to remain out of the way - she took her meals in her room, and made herself scarce when either Daemon or the Princess Rhaenyra's children were present. Nobody ever thought to look for her.

But seeing Baela's mournful smile, hearing the carefully contained grief in her words... It made her yearn to reach out and comfort the younger girl.

Still, she dared not overstep her place.

"Just Rhaella, if you please; I'm no Lady. Just a bastard..."

She avoided meeting the other's gaze. Her blood might be noble on either side, but the circumstances of her birth could not be overlooked. "But I understand your sorrow, my Lady. My own mother was taken by fever only last year, and I grieve her still. I would not wish such a loss upon anyone, least of all my own blood."

'you are Targaryen, that is what matters.'

Rhaella smiled at her sister. "I suppose you're right - I hadn't truly considered it in that way ... I didn't even know that Prince Daemon was my father until a year ago."

She flexed her bandaged hands, still healing after her impromptu flight on dragonback - she had been so caught up in the giddy joy of seeing the world from above that she hadn't even noticed the extent of her injuries until she dismounted in the courtyard. "If I had, I might've known that dragonriders typically use saddles rather than clinging to the scales for dear life."

Dragonstone was quiet - quieter than Rhaella had ever known in Giantsfall Peak. Barring the roar of the sea, traipsing the castle hall was like walking through the ancient crypts below the crypts beneath her Lord Grandfather's mountain keep.

Since arriving in her father's household (or at least, that of his new wife), Rhaella had little idea where or who she was supposed to be. As she moved into the courtyard, the silvered hair of Lady Baela - her half-sister - came into view. What a strange thought. Rhaella had been raised alone until only a few weeks ago and now...

Well, she hardly knew what to say.

Instead, she approached the battlement upon which the younger woman stood looking out across the sea.

It should have surprised her that her father had another child. Another daughter, but it didn't. Her father had a past before her mother, and it seemed it was coming back. It also showed her that he also liked to keep secrets, and the next thought was, how many did he have?

Slipping her riding gloves off, Baela crossed the courtyard to see what the rest of the day held. She had just finished her ride with Moondancer and figured she might have a moment in the library. Maybe she would see Rhaena and talk about their new half-sister.. Their family seemed to keep growing. Baela had thought about reaching out to Rhaella but was still determining if it was the right thing..

Rhaella had thus far kept her distance from Prince Daemon's trueborn daughters, as much for their sake as her own; she was under no illusions that her sudden arrival would be easy to accept. It wasn't so hard to remain out of the way - she took her meals in her room, and made herself scarce when either Daemon or the Princess Rhaenyra's children were present. Nobody ever thought to look for her.

But seeing Baela's mournful smile, hearing the carefully contained grief in her words... It made her yearn to reach out and comfort the younger girl.

Still, she dared not overstep her place.

"Just Rhaella, if you please; I'm no Lady. Just a bastard..."

She avoided meeting the other's gaze. Her blood might be noble on either side, but the circumstances of her birth could not be overlooked. "But I understand your sorrow, my Lady. My own mother was taken by fever only last year, and I grieve her still. I would not wish such a loss upon anyone, least of all my own blood."