Top Tier Games

Having the largest and tallest building in the city to call your home, it'd be a crime to not use the Red Keep to your advantage for games. Hide and seek? Hide in the crypts with Balerion. Tag? Can't tag someone while you're wheezing and climbing up the serpentine steps. Scavenger hunt? Gold and jewels are overrated. Trying to catch one of the stray cats of the castle is harder than finding priceless artifacts. One setback is that the place was not childproofed for eight kids at a party or any children for that matter.

"Hiss!"

A black, scruffy cat sprints from the shadows. It dodges you and the kids, who made it a game to catch the elusive feline.

Ducking under Luke's leg, it heads for the stairs. You waste no time running after it. Searching for a cat at night was a challenge in this maze of a castle, but it seemed almost impossible to catch one. After almost 20 minutes into the chase, your patience was running thin.

As you race down the stone steps, you lose your footing and slip. You hear your friends cry out your name as you fall. Your heart skips a beat, and you close your eyes. But two hands secure themselves around you, and you see yourself in the arms of a knight in shining armor, literally.

"Are you alright, my lady/lord?"

You are sure Ser Harwin Strong said something about being careful before corralling you all to your shared chamber. However, you were too busy experiencing your first crush and love at first sight simultaneously.

Food for Days

When a Targaryen parties, always expect a feast that can feed a village. Whether the food is exotic or not, the royals chefs will serve whatever it is you're craving with a wave of your hand. Just be mindful of your bowels once morning comes along. Lucaerys learned that the hard way when he locked himself in the bathroom after eating too many Dornish Cream Cakes.

"Don't tell mother!" Luke groans from the chamber pot before bracing for another purge of the creamy desserts.

Tea Over Tea

A slumber party is never one without sharing the latest gossip in the court. You, Helaena, Baela, and Rhaena were eager to exchange information while the boys hesitated to join in. Jace and Aemond, being the good kids they are, would remark that it is impolite to talk about somebody else's business.

"It's just wrong," Aemond says, crossing his arms stubbornly. Ever since you left the room to get some water, Baela has been prodding him to join in on the conversation.

Jace nods in agreement. "Why would we want to know what other people are getting into, anyway?" He knows his mother taught him better than sticking his nose in other people's affairs. However, he can't help but feel jealous of how much fun you are having without him.

"Not even to know who (Y/N) has a crush on?" The girls giggle. Someone soon joins the circle and sits between Helaena and Rhaena

Luke sits there, as poker-faced as his adorable self can allow. "Spill," he says before raising a teacup to his lips.

Who Brought the Booze?

Since you're still underage, only Aegon would be interested in sneaking in liquor. You and the others would wince as you watch the prince swig the wine in gulps. But being the impressionable kids you are, you all decide to mimic him by drinking "shots" of your favorite juice and "smoking" sticks of candy while pretending to be high.

"Bleh!"

You giggle as you pass over the bin for the next person to fake vomit in it.

Jace takes it and hunches over, holding his stomach as if it hurts. "Oh no, I think I'm going to—" he exclaims a retching sound, earning a laugh from your companions. His performance is cut short when a hand steals the bucket away from him. "Hey!"

Aegon hurls the alcoholic contents from his stomach without warning. The kids yell out in disgust while some of you look on in horror, mentally noting never to bring Aegon to parties if you don't desire a mess.

Makeover!

Whether or not you like the glitz and mess glam of a makeover, the girls would be excited to share their cosmetic talents. You wouldn't want to disappoint Helaena, would you? Plus, you'd look so gorgeous with your plum lipstick, blue eyeshadow, and bright pink blush! The boys have no say in it too if they want to keep the party lively. They could be bound in chairs, screaming with cream cakes stuffed in their mouths, while the twins happily braid their hair and you and Helaena paint their nails

"Oh, you'll look absolutely divine, good sir," you say with a posh accent.

Aegon hums as he opens his mouth for another grape. You feed him the fruit before returning to his facial mask. Surprisingly, the eldest prince is the most accepting of the treatment.

The other boys struggle to free themselves of their restraints but are pulled back by the girls to test their new perfumes (aka an abomination of different scents they could mix together)

"Quite," Aegon replies.

He sits back with a sigh as he lets you do his nails, just as long as you continue the hand massage that makes them feel like jelly.

Historically Accurate Dungeons and Dragons

It's the boys' time to shine on this one. Their parents' closets are a gold mine for role plays. Every bed is a mountain to climb, and what lies underneath is a cave of goblin fiends waiting to be defeated. Your pillow fort is the Red Keep, where inside is the towering pillow throne! Whoever gets tagged as the untamed dragon has worthy opponents armed with broomsticks and plush shields at the ready.

"Ugh, why does Aegon get to be king, again?"

"Because it's in my name, duh," Aegon says while readjusting his oversized crown that was totally not stolen from Viserys' room.

You answer from your pillow fort, "Because he'll cry and whine until sunrise if we make him the dragon," you look at him pointedly," even though it was his turn."

"Please, you wouldn't know how to rule a kingdo-AAAA!"

Helaena makes an excellent beastmaster. She has amassed an army of her insect friends, and one of her companions just so happened to land on the king's face.

Ghost Stories

Being in a family built on bloodshed, warfare, and dragons comes with its perks when telling ghost stories. The Targaryens have passed on stories to their kids for generations. King Viserys could spend hours retelling the stories of Old Valyria and its doom. Corlys could detail with great pride of his nine voyages to Essos and the unusual creatures he encountered. But it's Daemon that gives the true horrors of previous Targaryen kings. The man does not have a filter even in front of children, so it isn't a surprise if you stay up all night thinking about the underground tunnels of the Red Keep. The dead men that built those very walls might still be lurking somewhere.

" Wagonloads of strongwine and sweetmeats," Daemon says, "and the finest whores of the city were sent by king Maegor. Three days, those builders and workmen dined and reveled in the celebration."

The prince sits by the hearth with his legs crossed, relaxed like a wise man narrating a children's book. In front of him are all of you in your designated beds. Some have their blankets tucked under their chins as he continues.

"The king then ordered his soldiers that all of the workmen be killed." He scoffed at the idea. "Never wanted anyone to reveal the Red Keep's secrets. All those laborers worked to the bone, given three days of unsullied pleasure, just to be slaughtered like pigs afterward. So," he clasps his hands together," what have we learned tonight, hm?"

"That Maegor the Cruel should be nicknamed the Fool instead," Aegon answers. "What kind of king slaughters his men but not the whores they fucked drunk for three days straight?"

"Good question." Daemon points to him. He rises from his seat and walks across the room. "But how would you know he didn't kill the whores as well? Perhaps their spirits still linger about. Sometimes you'll hear their disembodied voices when no one's there. Some claimed they've seen their headless figures wandering the halls, beaten and bloody."

The kids shiver at his creepy voice as he says it. The tense air becomes worse once the last of the candles are blown.

Daemon chuckles. "Well, goodnight. Hopefully you won't wake with a lost limb." He opens the door and takes his leave with a smirk on his face.

A Sleepless Night

You all would try to keep holding conversations in the dark as long as you can. Honestly, everyone was creeped out by Daemon's story, but eventually sleep gets the best of them. The room starts to become colder the dimmer the fireplace becomes. Every sound is amplified and keeps you awake. Unfortunately for you, a storm just so happened to form. The howling winds and heavy rain can be heard from outside. It's a horrible time to be afraid of lightning.

You hate the storm. It seems to mock you every time you hide from the flashes of light. Its thunderous laugh travels through the walls and into your bed. Even with the others sleeping near you on separate mattresses, you feel alone.

Minutes of silence passed. But just as you were about to close your eyes, a loud crack jolts you awake.

In a moment of vulnerability, you get in the nearest bed to yours. You bury yourself under the blanket.

"(Y/N)?" Aemond whispers. He pulls back the covers to see you hiding under them. "What are you doing? Are you scared?"

Another lightning strike. You gasp and curl over like a fetus. You don't know if you want to hide from the storm or your friend more. You nod your head.

Aemond looks at your empty bed and then at the window. The storm has only gotten worse. Waves of rainfall pound at the covered glass. He puts the blanket back over you and lies down, facing you.

"...It's okay. The storm can't get you here." He feels you slightly shaking and gulps. "And, um, I'm here to protect you. I won't let anything hurt you."

You open your eyes. You see him shift slightly. He looks red in the face and awkward from having to share a bed.

"Promise?"

"Uh, well, I can promise I'd get struck first before you do b-because I'm taller."

You snicker. "Right."

Suddenly, you hear a pained moan echo from a distance. It was loud enough to wake you and Aemond but not the rest. You and him sit up and look at the door leading to the hallway. It is slightly ajar, with candlelight seeping through the crack. You hear another noise and then hide under the covers once again.

"What the hells was that?"

"I don't know. Just don't move until it's gone."

You close your eyes tightly and silently pray whoever or whatever was making that sound won't come inside and slaughter you like in the ghost stories.

You shriek when you feel the bed dip behind you. A hand covers your mouth, and you turn your hand to see someone join you under the covers.

"Aegon?"

"Aegon, you have your own bloody bed. Get your own hiding spot," Aemond whispers angrily.

"And get killed? Mine's the closest to the damn door. If one of those ghosts gets in, It'd get to me first. Now move!"

Now, you're squeezed between Aemond and Aegon, both of which are horrible at keeping their voices down.

"Ouch, stop kicking me!"

"Then stop putting your damn cold feet on mine."

"What feet?"

"Sorry, that was me," you mutter. You push away Aegon's unruly hair from your face. "But can both of you just shush? I think it's getting closer."

A moment passes, and all you hear is silence.

"Why don't you just hide with Helaena?"

Aegon stutters, "Because... Well, why don't you do it then?"

"Because this is my damn bed—"

"Shut up!" you scream quietly. "Both of you. If we're supposed to survive the night, then let's at least pretend we're asleep."

You glare at them like a seething mother. Neither dared to speak after you, so you try to make yourself comfortable before closing your eyes.

You whisper goodnight to the princes. With their backs turned, Aemond mumbles a goodnight back while Aegon lets out a grunt.

Soon enough, all of you are deep asleep, the fear of the ghost and the storm long forgotten. No one notices a small figure entering the dark room.

Blurry faces and colors flash by you. The aroma of rich food and heavy perfumes, the glint of flashy jewelry and flickering of candlelight, the bellowing of laughter, and the incoherent chattering among guests and family members. All at once, they attack your senses, giving you a headache. You do not feel like you're supposed to be here.

Today, your family hosts a grand party to celebrate your nameday. Many lords and ladies all across Westeros have come for the occasion, showering you with endless gifts and praises. Of course, you are expected to be present for the occasion. You tried your best to appear happy for the day that is seemingly centered around you. You just cannot find the willpower to be happy at the moment. The guilt gnaws at you. Malicious voices whisper in each ear how ungrateful you are acting. Anyone would kill to be in your shoes, but no amount of lavish offerings or music can rid of the pit in your stomach.

You watch from across the table, your family talk and laugh with different noble families. Others dance to a merry tune, spinning and linking arms. Your parents sit close to the king and queen during the feast, smiling and laughing, ignorant of the brewing storm within you. Your heart clenches at how you must look, like a dog dragged by the scruff from your room. Maybe it's not far from the truth. Five separate times were you found hiding in your room, and five times were you reminded of your position. It is your responsibility, as future queen, to keep your guests happy.

Guests that you did not invite to a party you did not want, you thought.

You down the cup of wine in a few gulps, catching your husband's attention.

“The night is still young, princess. Why the rush?” Aegon asks, holding a cup of his own. He follows your gaze and turns to see the scene that upset you. Standing on the other side of the room are your parents. Their backs are facing you, but you can tell they are flushed from the beverages.

He hears the scrape of a chair and sees you walking away from the table. This time, no one notices your absence but Aegon, who is right behind you. You turn the corner to a secluded hallway where the servants pass through. You regret standing and leaving as fast as you did. Your vision blurs, and your ears ring. Still, your legs seem to move by themselves in search of an exit.

Aegon stops you by your shoulders, asking, "(Y/N), where are you going?"

You turn to him, glassy-eyed. “Anywhere but here.” You glance behind him to check if anyone saw you leaving, but it's only you two.

“What do you mean?” He searches your face for an answer and notices you looking lightheaded.

The ringing in your ears gets louder. Tears prick your eyes, and you withhold the urge to yawn. You start breathing heavily like you're about to cry.

He asks, alarmed, “Are you alright, love? What's wrong?"

"I don't want to be here."

You reach out to him, and he frowns, holding you close. He looks around before swiping one of the bottles and bread a servant passing by was carrying. He holds your hand and heads towards the door. “Let's get out of here.”

He stops outside the back entrance, waiting for you to recover. You lean against him while he has his back against the stone wall, rubbing your back. Once the cold air hits you, you start to regain your strength, and soon you two are sneaking around guards to leave the castle. He lets you eat some bread on the way but doesn't stop until you reach the dragon pit.

The massive size of the cavernous building is imposing, to say the least. Even with his jacket on, you feel a shiver run down our spine. Echos of trickling water and dragon snores make you grip Aegon's arm tighter. You can feel him flex said arm in reassurance.

Actually paying attention to Ser Cole's training for once definitely paid off. Aegon mentally pats himself in the back.

Show off, you thought.

Without a care in his step, the prince leads you to where his dragon, Sunfyre, is enclosed.

The dragon rumbles at the sight of his rider. He lets out a low purr once you petted his snout, as you're one of the few he would allow touching him.

“Where are we going?” You stare at the prince with furrowed brows as he places the bottle and food inside Sunfyre's saddlebag.

“Anywhere but here.” He smirks and gets on one knee to give you a leg up. You squint at him, but he simply motions his head for you to get on. “Trust me, princess.”

It took little convincing for you to ride the gorgeous dragon. You let out a yelp as Sunfyre takes you to the skies. Aegon has his chest against your back and his arms by your waist, his grip secure on the leather reigns. A smile turns into laughter when you feel the clouds on your face and a flurry of rain droplets fly past your cheek.

Once you reach a clearing, your jaw drops. In front of you is the bright full moon. It looks so close to where you are that you could almost touch it. Its soft light gives a golden, ethereal glimmer to the dragon's scales. Even Aegon's hair seems to glow under the moonlight, like a halo made of silver and gold. He smirks as you look at him up and down. You blush and stick your tongue out at him.

You fail to notice the dragon rider's devilish grin as you fall into a sudden drop. It is his turn to laugh as you scream, clinging onto him for dear life. Just when you thought you were heading straight for the water, he swoops Sunfyre back up and skillfully swerves past rocks and canyons. The dragon runs the tip of his wings through the waves, splashing saltwater at the resisting breeze. The racing beat of your heart pulsates through your fingertips. An electric feeling of freedom courses through you. No one can touch you where you are. At that moment, no one else exists. You feel powerful. Alive.

You arrive at a small island. The sounds of waves washing ashore can be heard from below. Sunfyre lowers himself through a large hole atop a rock formation. When Aegon helps you down, you can feel sand under your shoes.

"Aegon, where are we?" You ask, uncomfortable in the nearly pitch-black darkness.

“dracarys.”

A billow of flames leaves the dragon's jaws and lights a nearby campfire. Both males act as if they have done it a thousand times before. After adjusting to the light, your eyes scan around the towering cave you're in.

Spiral walls rise to the hole in the ceiling. Its rocky layers oscillate between white, yellow, and orange. Half of the cave is surrounded by turquoise water, in which two arched entrances are connected by an amber-colored pillar. You cannot see past the three entrances, but you can imagine how otherworldly it would be here with a skylight. It is a monument worthy of the Gods.

“How do you know this place?” You ask, turning to him.

Aegon rummages through a wooden chest from the back. He takes out a couple of blankets and cushions from it and places them beside the crackling campfire. “Well, if you're around people who wish to take either your crown, your life, or your fun, you'd want to escape to a place like this, yeah?” He dusts his hands off with a proud face, but you raise an eyebrow.

He continues, “I found this place when I was ten and three. You remember that night. Aemond lost his eye, blamed me for calling Rhaenyra's sons bastards when I could barely discern left from right, yadda yadda.” He waves his hand dismissively. “In short, I got upset and left with Sunfyre. I didn't know where we were going; I just knew it was anywhere but there. Discovered the remains of an old, wrecked ship, found the cave, and it's been mine ever since.”

As though reading his rider's mind, Sunfyre flies off with a huff, giving you two privacy. Aegon walks back to you with the wine and bread in hand. He removes the cork with his teeth and passes you the bottle. You take a large gulp and sit down beside him on the blankets, still in awe of the place.

"Huh, I still can't believe you've never told me about this."

He shrugs. “I guess I just wasn't ready, you know, to reveal all about myself. I always came here when I couldn't handle the pressure, when it felt like everything was against me. Hells, I disliked who I was. Why not have an entire realm feel the same way."

You nod. He still has a hard time opening up about his insecurities, no matter how often you reassure him. “Thank you, for bringing me here, I mean. My nameday must be extra special for bringing me to your little paradise.” You nudge his side.

Aegon chuckles and wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer. “It's our paradise now,” he captures your lips in a quick but heated kiss, “and you're its queen.” He leaves a trail of wet kisses down your neck, making you giggle. Without you noticing, he swipes the glass bottle from your grasp and takes generous sips.

“Where're you goin', princess?” he asks when you stand up and walk towards the water.

You loosen the laces of your dress and pull the sleeves down your shoulders. “That's 'my queen' to you, love.” You turn around and let the layers of clothing fall to your feet, leaving you in your undergarments. “Swim with me.”

Your husband grins with a fire in his eyes. “Yes, my queen,” he plays along. He strips to his breeches and joins you.

Time goes by fast as you enjoy each other's company. You splash and play in the waves, your laughter reverberating in the domed shelter. You've lost count of how many times you accidentally tasted the salty water from forgetting to keep your mouth closed. It was an unforgettable night, particularly for your husband, who you almost accidentally drowned while using him as a life preserver. You were lucky he showed mercy.

You will also remember this night as one of tender lovemaking. With the drenched, see-through fabric peeled off of you, you bathed in the warmth your connecting bodies emanated. Each kiss was a silent prayer for more. Waves of pleasure rolled off your tongue and hips, both wet for him to be one with you again. As the rumbling surf masked your moans and pants, you swam in the waters of desire until your bodies ached. You shivered with mirth and sweat dripping down your flushed skin.

Once you calmed down, you lie with his head between your breasts, basking your bare souls in the moonlit sky. You lean against the large rock behind you. Aegon sits comfortably with his back to you. You keep each other warm with your arms wrapped around his shoulders and blankets surrounding you. Even with your focus on the starry sky, you're grounded by the feeling of your husband's soft hands rubbing along your forearms.

The muscles of your shoulders relax. A sigh escapes your lips like a heaviness has left your body. He notices and squeezes your arm before kissing its damp skin. Every touch is so gentle—mindful.

You look back down and move him to face you. Like his touch, yours are delicate as they cup his face and brush back his messy locks. You smile softly, silently communicating how proud of him you are. He's grown so much over the years. Stronger and wiser he became, without losing the essence of who he was. You can attest he is just as sensual as you remember him to be.

Aegon looks back, confused at first. Your eyes still hold a tinge of sadness, but the pupils are dilated. Your smile is no longer strained, and your heart beats calmly from where his hand rests on your back. Without question, he captures your lips for another kiss.

Though he may never completely understand the intricate web of galaxies that make up his wife, he concludes that he will be there to feel everything—and face everything—with you. And if that means he's, for some reason, the cause of your serenity, he would fly you back here every night and recreate every moment. All of it just to see that look upon your face.

(Y/N) Targaryen. The Crown's Jewel. Adopted by Rhaenyra Targaryen and raised by Alicent Hightower. Blood of none, but beloved by all.

Oh, how you wished your mothers loved each other as they loved you. You always saw the sadness in their eyes whenever they meet, a longing between two souls that were more familiar than the men they married.

It is why they currently sit across from you. The silence is suffocating. The queenly women wait for an answer as to why their child called for a meeting with them in private.

You take a deep breath. “I want you both, for once, to say what is on your mind and make amends for this drawn-out feud. Forgive me, but I cannot help but feel partially responsible if I fail to do something about this.”

It might be naive to think they would apologize for a conflict that has persisted for years, and it probably was. You witness the pent-up frustration in their hearts pour out as they face each other. Their voices raise like whoever was louder was less guilty.

You can still tell they want an end to it as much as you do. However, years of repressed feelings, miscommunication, and external pressures keep them from doing so. It felt like a tug of war ever since you were a child. You were just a small, shivering babe in a rotten box when Rhaenyra took you in. Despite how much the family, and especially the court, protested against the decision, she saw something in you that forged an unbreakable bond—a mother's love for her child. Prophecies be damned if someone were to dare take you from her.

Alicent took longer to accept you, but you did not have to do anything. No matter the day, she would always find herself looking for you. You were always so excited to see her and let her braid your hair. Perhaps it's the curiosity to know what it's like to have a loving relationship with your child, as hypocritical as it sounds from someone who already has children of her own. But you were so easy to love. She fell harder than you could ever comprehend with that precious mind of yours.

It was how she and Rhaenyra came to an agreement. You get to spend time with both under a given schedule. Half of the time is spent with Rhaenyra and your adopted brothers, and the other is with Alicent, Viserys, and their kids. Regardless of how busy they are, they would always find time to spend it with you. It was surprisingly a happy childhood, one that most likely kept the peace between the two families.

You were brought back to reality by the scraping of chairs. Pride overcomes prudence as your Targaryen mother rises from her seat and makes her way toward the door. The brunette queen has her back facing them with fingers picking at skin; a distraction from the ache in her heart.

Alicent says with a stern yet audibly hurt tone, "(Y/N), this will be the last time you force such a discussion between me and Rhaenyra. If you are so displeased, choose a side," the queen bites her lip as she hides a deep frown, "because we cannot be there for you together."

"What?" The hurt in your voice makes Rhaenyra stop in her tracks, her instincts yelling at her to comfort her child.

"I can't... You know I can't do that." Your throat tightens.

"My dear-"

“To choose one of you is to lose half of myself.” You feel the tears welling behind your eyes, but keep your chin up. "You're both my mothers. If there were truly any malice or hate between you, I would have noticed. You two always try to act distant, but the next minute, you look into each other's eyes, hold hands, and just generally gross me out with your badly hidden flirting." If the atmosphere wasn't so tense, you could have laughed at yourself. You sigh and continue, "If I'm not so bad, then neither is the person that raised me. You know it better than I do, don't you?”

Your gaze shifts between the two women, who now have their eyes on the floor, and then eventually to each other.

"If you'll have me," Rhaenyra breaks the silence, "we could talk it over a cup of tea."

Alicent and Rhaenyra exchange a look, and at that moment, they are children again. A time without worry and responsibilities that made them set aside their happiness. A time when their minds were preoccupied with nothing but the young girl that always stood by their side. In those teary-eyed windows, they see a glimpse of their best friend, their biggest confidant, and their first love. No matter how long ago that wound was sewn shut, there is always an opening that would let them back into their lives if they just had the chance.

With a wistful smile, Alicent nods. "I'd love to."