#broken.intro

 I  .  WILD  THINGS  IN  THE  DARKNESS  OF  HER  EYES  .  dorne  welcomed  its  princess  with  a  lovely  breeze  ,  letting  the  curtains  dance  and  float  before  tenderly  wrapping  its  arms  around  the  little  lady  martell  .  and  you  laughed  ,  you  didn’t  cry  ,  no  ,  you  giggled  .  like  the  wind  was  ticklish  ,  like  life  wasn’t  torture  .  they  named  you  mara  ,  mara  meant  strength  and  beauty  .  and  you  certainly  grew  up  armed  with  both  .  wild  and  carefree  ,  childhood  was  so  lovely  ,  you  wanted  to  stay  in  it  forever  .  it  was  such  a  shame  when  you  were  pulled  from  your  home  .  how  the  dornish  skies  cried  when  their  princess  was  taken  ,  how  the  sun  cowered  behind  clouds  when  their  lady  left  .  you  belonged  in  dorne  and  you  would  never  forgive  the  conspirators  who  took  you  away  from  your  home  .

 II  .  FALLING  IN  LOVE  IS  VERY  LIKE  THE  FEELING  OF  FEAR  .  you  did  not  expect  to  fall  in  love  ,  love  was  the  farthest  thing  from  your  mind  .  you  were  too  preoccupied  with  freedom  .  with  escaping  and  returning  to  dorne  ,  it  was  only  later  you  were  able  to  realise  that  love  is  freedom  ,  freedom  is  love  and  everything  else  did  not  really  matter  .  the  crown  prince  stark  was  handsome  ,  he  was  charming  and  honourable  ,  he  had  a  lovely  smile  and  a  pretty  laugh  and  snow  fell  around  him  as  though  it  worshiped  him  .  yet  you  resisted  .  your  love  and  loyalty  was  not  easily  bought  but  you  let  him  have  it  and  you  let  him  hold  it  for  eternity  .

ooc : what up party people, noah here! i should have some wanted plots and a touch of a bio / timeline / motivation thingy coming up on my nav page soon! feel free to hmu on discord and i should hopefully be jumping on some of those open starters :D

Born the youngest of 3 sisters in Sweet Lotus Valley as a princess of the ruling house of Qo, in the island Jhala, Maraiya had a very happy, extremely safe, enjoyable life. However that wasn't enough for my high-spirited, highly inquisitive, restless and very mischievous girl who was a true EXPLORER at heart like some of the Summer Islanders were, and once she had explored all she could from all of the islands available in the Summer Isles, she left home at 18 - becoming a globe-trotting sailor explorer.  Maraiya wasn't content to just live out the rest of her life peacefully, only having knowledge of the Summer Isles like her sisters and most people she knew did. There had to be more out there in the world to learn of and experience of. She took part time jobs here and there when her money ran out in between her travels so she was really a modern backpacker in a way. She was independent and didn't mind the hard work because in her mind, it gave her more of a chance to really experience the different cultures & way of life of the people from each different realm/ land she visited. And with her willful, mischievous, highly sensual and sexual nature, you can bet she had some dirty fun too at each place. 

Having all these years of exploration and soaking up knowledge and practical & cultural skills from first hand experience, Maraiya could now be said to be known to several people as a master sailor, expert swimmer, determined explorer with an encyclopedia of knowledge in both her brains and limbs. She has a pretty photographic memory too for she rarely ever forgets a face, name or place that she has seen and/or heard of before. 

Maraiya is definitely a force to be reckoned with as well as a sassy, blunt and never-ending ball of sunshine energy. She’s also very warm, engaging and unrestrained ( read: doesn’t know the meaning of personal space or embarrassment/ awkwardness . i apologize in advance XD ) With her very open mind and patience, it is rare for anyone to be the subject of Maraiya’s ire or real anger,.... unless, it has to do with the wellbeing of her precious son - to which at the moment, she is very thoroughly annoyed and a bit upset with Tristan Vance for not being a proper parent to her beloved little boy.  Even though, she’s still very much her own person and does whatever she wants, damn the consequences asdfghjk  BUT, eversince she became a ( single ) mother over the past few years, she's reigned down her willfulness slightly as she takes her responsibilities of a doting and v protective momma bear seriously, so when it comes to son, she does think twice about some of her actions that might negatively impact him and pulls back a little from being rash.

She doesn’t really believe nor entertain the idea of marriage. Why settle down with only one person in one place for the rest of your life, when you can be living your best life with getting to know different types of partners from a variety of places, on different levels,  and most importantly enjoying the different carnal acts / deliciously euphoric pleasures of the flesh with a variety of sexually explorative companions? Hence, Maraiya is very much a modern-day polyamorous kind of person. 

 born  with  an  extraordinary  birthmark  on  her  back,  rhaella  was  dubbed  ‘dragon  blessed’  by  her  family.  the  mark,  spanning  from  the  small  of  her  back  to  midway  her  ribs,  was  remarkably  like  the  pattern  of  a  dragon’s  scales  —  almost  as  if  there  was  one  such  creature  hiding  underneath  her  very  skin.  regardless  of  if  she  was  truly  blessed  or  not,  it  resulted  in  her  being  the  pride  of  house  targaryen,  seen  as  a  sign  from  their  valyrian  ancestors,  and  she  was  raised  with  exactly  that  stamped  into  her  mind  over  &  over.      

 rhaella  grew  up  thinking  the  sun  and  moon  revolved  around  her.  dragon  blessed,  dragon  blessed,  dragon  blessed.  her  father  looked  at  her  like  a  prized  trophy,  her  mother  made  sure  her  blessed  nature  was  known  among  the  most  superstitious  smallfolk.  she  was  beautiful  and  loved,  but  filled  with  want.  it  was  not  necessarily  that  rhaella  was  spoiled.  she  cared  little  for  material  goods,  actually,  they  were  always  available  to  a  princess  —  she  would  never  go  without.  it  in  fact  made  her  feel  more  inferior,  knowing  she  had  all  these  things  by  the  grace  of  her  royal  status  and  not  her  own  work.  what  she  wanted  was  immaterial.  power,  admiration  &  strength  —  those  were  her  pillars,  and  she  would  fight  for  them  tooth  and  nail.      

 power  came  easy.  her  name  alone  carried  power.  but  she  would  build  upon  it,  her  ambition  would  not  let  her  rest  on  just  being  called  targaryen  alone.  she  learned  quickly  that  the  way  to  power  was  knowledge  —  secrets  could  be  held  over  someone’s  head,  goods  could  be  supplied  if  she  knew  they  were  desperately  needed,  battles  could  be  fought  without  a  single  sword  ever  being  drawn.  as  a  young  girl,  she  sat  in  on  small  council  meetings,  claiming  to  just  want  to  be  near  her  father.  but  she  listened,  she  remembered,  and  when  the  time  came,  she  made  herself  invaluable  as  master  of  coin,  even  at  such  a  young  age.  one  might  think  master  of  whisperers  would  be  the  obvious  choice,  but  it  wasn’t  glorious  enough  for  her.      

 admiration  was  a  much  harder  task.  rhaella’s  personality  used  to  be  somewhat  grating.  too  sharp-tongued,  too  arrogant.  sure,  those  who  believed  in  her  being  blessed  by  dragons  had  no  problem  admiring  her,  but  it  was  the  rest  who  needed  to  follow.  it  was  here  that  she  turned  to  her  mother.  the  queen  was  beloved  by  many,  rhaella  included.  she  helped  her  play  up  her  beauty,  her  soft  features  —  and  taught  her  to  pair  it  with  honeyed  words  and  empty  promises.  rhaella  could  smile  easily,  often  even  genuinely  —  but  it  usually  served  a  purpose.  she  gained  friends,  allies,  even  a  lover  here  and  there  (  though  always  in  utmost  secrecy  ),  and  quickly  raised  her  position.      

 and  finally,  strength  —  both  of  the  mental  and  physical  sort.  the  latter  should  not  have  been  required  of  a  princess  like  her,  surrounded  by  guards,  always  protected,  but  it  was  a  personal  choice.  she  didn’t  want  her  bodily  safety  to  rely  on  others,  she  knew  herself  how  easy  it  could  be  to  turn  a  guard.  learning  to  build  up  her  skill  with  the  sword  was  likely  the  hardest  of  her  challenges.  she  was  built  to  be  soft  and  tender,  and  could  barely  hold  up  a  weapon  at  the  start  of  her  training.  still,  working  with  her  guards  in  secret,  occasionally  outsourcing  to  the  best  swordsmen  money  could  buy,  she’s  built  up  plenty  strength  and  skill.  mental  strength  was  more  natural.  she  participated  in  strategy  sessions,  read  quickly  and  frequently,  and  always  challenged  herself  in  creativity.     

aegon jaehaerys targaryen, seventh of his name, king of the andals, the rhoynar, and the first men, prince of dragonstone and protector of the south was born in the year 436.

once bright & lively boy that often spent his hours playing games of make believe with his siblings & the other children on dragonstone, aegon grew more and more melancholic and withdrawn as he grew older.

always curious & bookish, this too intensifies with age, and aegon spends hours in the libraries of the red keep and pestering the archmaester with questions long past his lessons are finished. he even studied at the citadel when he turned one-and-twenty, forging six links before being called back to the red keep by his father.

he marries emely bar emmon when he is five-and-twenty, after pestering his father for years about wedding the woman that captured his heart when they were still children.

 they spend the first few years in marital bliss as the lord & lady of dragonstone. their first daughter, rhaenyra, is born when aegon is six-and-twenty.

he becomes king when he is nine-and-twenty. and the moment the unornamented circlet of king aegon the third is placed upon his forehead, it feels as though his entire life has been leading up to this moment. he has spent twenty-eight training to be a good, strong-willed king, a protector of the innocent, a shield of his people. a king that he would be proud to serve.

and at first, he succeeds. the realm thrives under his rule. yet as he grows older, burdened by the responsibilities of the iron throne, aegon becomes more and more paranoid. he spends hours consulting ancient texts, reading the histories of old dragon kings and queens and trying to hatch dragons.

queen daenerys lost the north. maegos targaryen lost dorne, and then the iron islands. his grandfather lost the vale, the riverlands, and the westerlands and his father aeron failed to get them back. the starks have continued to take, and take, and take from what rightfully belonged to the westeros, to house targaryen. his deepest fear is that they will try to conquer the rest of the continent, forcing them all to bend the knee to a king in the north. 

aegon refuses to let this happen. he will regain the lands his ancestors once conquered, beneath the blazing red sigil of a three-headed dragon. with fire & blood.

random headcanons

no nicknames !! call him aegon or die by his sword !! the only exception 2 this is emely

emely being the exception is actually a running theme here

bc this man is a SIMP

he has a lovely singing voice & plays the high harp exceptionally well

always thinking of little songs and writing them down in a little notebook he carries on his person

has terrible, terrible insomnia and is plagued with really bad dreams about losing everything - his wife, his children, his throne.

is a pretty good fighter actually? he’s squired under ( wc ) and has won a fair amount of tourneys.

character parallels: rhaegar targaryen, jaehaerys targaryen, aegon targaryen ( egg ), duncan targaryen, aerys targaryen, viserys targaryen, prince harry windsor, anakin skywalker (shhh we’re going w it) ( also this is absolutely courtesy of ems ).

the courts offer bread and salt to cain of house marbrand. many say that the twenty seven year old sibling of the lord of ashemark is known to be entertaining and loyal, though ill tongues whisper that he is stubborn and brash. when his name is uttered , one is reminded of the most self assured yet least confident person in the room, a comedian who their biggest fan of their jokes is themselves, perception being far from reality, a fire behind the eyes with a smirk on the face, and the shiniest steel something that is simple, beautiful, yet deadly. may he be blessed and protected in this war of crowns. ( fc: wade briggs )

Cain Marbrand never took to being a noble. All the responsibilities, the expectations, the etiquette and just the general stuffiness to it all just didn’t sit well with him. Let his elder brother deal with the pitfalls of ruling, let him go off and do his own thing instead. It’d be better that way.

One thing that Cain DID stick to, however, were martial pursuits. Whether it be riding, or dueling, jousting or archery, Cain took to it like a fish to water. He reveled in the feel of steel in his hands, the adrenaline running through his veins, the burning in his muscles. It was a rush, and one he found himself craving more and more as he grew older.

The young man began hunting for tournaments, eager to prove his worth and test his mettle as a warrior. As he rode around Westeros, he found his second passion: travel. Why stay in one place, when there was seven kingdoms to see, or Free Cities, or a Dothraki Sea, or a great pyramid? He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, be happy until he’d seen what else was out there.

So, at the age of seven and ten, he set out, a blade at his hip and gold in his purse, to travel the world. He wished his family, who he loved dearly, a goodbye and set off to make his way, live his life and experience the fruits the world had to offer.

  I.  WE  BEGIN  IN  THE  DARKNESS  &  BIRTH  IS  THE  DEATH  OF  US  .  you  were  born  a  small  babe  ,  the  maester  did  not  think  you  would  live  .  heart  was  too  weak  ,  bones  too  fragile  ,  cries  too  soft  .  the  maester  told  the  lord  and  lady  tyrell  ,  your  son  ,  your  firstborn  son  ,  will  not  last  the  night  .  so  they  did  not  name  him  .  the  lord  tyrell  left  ,  disappointed  in  the  fraility  of  his  son  and  drowned  his  rage  in  dornish  wine  .  the  lady  tyrell  lamented  upon  the  shoulder  of  her  sister  ,  holding  her  dying  babe  .

 II  .  I  HAVE  SEARCHED  FOR  MY  FATHER’S  LOVE  IN  ALL  THE  CORNERS  OF  THE  WORLD  .  for  some  reason  you  made  it  through  that  day  .  that  one  fateul  day  ,  the  gods  decided  to  draw  back  their  scissors  and  let  the  ruby  red  line  of  your  life  run  .  at  times  you  wish  they  didn’t  .  your  father  is  ambitions  and  ruthless  and  he  shoves  all  his  insatiable  ambition  and  failed  plans  and  baleful  insecurities  in  your  tiny  little  hands  ,  upon  your  tiny  little  shoulders  .  the  right  pressure  turns  coal  into  diamond  ,  too  much  and  it  will  crush  it  into  ash  .  you  were  never  really  sure  what  it  turned  you  into  .