𝖗𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖒𝖆𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖓 ,

can a man still be brave if he’s afraid?

that is the only time a man can be brave: when he is afraid.

if you would take a man’s life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die.

a ruler who hides behind paid executioners soon forgets what death is.

sitting a throne is a thousand times harder than winning one.

half of them don’t dare tell me the truth, & the other half can’t find it.

never forget what you are, for surely the world will not.

my mind is my weapon.

if i look back, i am lost.

every flight begins with a fall.

now you know why you must live.

remember why i came here, my love.

when the snows fall & the white winds blow... the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.

the common people pray for rain, healthy children, & a summer that never ends. it is no matter to them if the high lords play their game of thrones, so long as they are left in peace.

i've never had a friend before.

i have made more mistakes than you can possibly imagine.

you wear your honor like a suit of armor. you think it keeps you safe, but all it does is weigh you down.

is it so far from madness to wisdom?

children grow & children learn.

there are no heroes. in life, the monsters win.

to each of you i say: give me your hands & your hearts, & there will always be a place for you.

love is the bane of honor, the death of duty.

do not fear for me.

don't you see? don't you see?

the fire is mine.

i hate you.

life is not a song, sweetling. you may learn that one day, to your sorrow.

this was no god's work.

we are only human, & the gods have fashioned us for love.

i thank you for the lessons you have taught me.

fear cuts deeper than swords.

some old wounds never truly heal, & bleed again at the slightest word.

death is so terribly final, while life is full of possibilities.

that is our great glory, & our great tragedy.

what do you know of fear?

The only good things he found in his life were the twins and Alerie. Helaena and his relationship had always been strained, even more so when they were made to wed but they had made it work, coming together to conceive the twins and that was a length of their romance and if there was a chance to strengthen that bond, it was all but destroyed when that bitch of a sister ordered a hit onto his heir.

He had been lost and Alerie, had been there for him, a shoulder to lean on, someone he felt he could trust especially as she seemed to be there every step of the way, even in his worse moments.

THE KING WAS LOST. mayhaps beyond any help, but alas she cared not. the little rose sought to quench her own desires, seducing the grieving king before her. in truth, he was a complete and utter fool. now do not be mistaken, for the king was quite handsome and rather charming, but he was nothing more than a gluttonous drunkard. ladies of the court ── alongside various common whores of flea bottom ── sought after him. for after all, he was the king.

her web had been woven, prey ensnared and smitten. ❝ i have a gift for you in return, your grace. ❞ she shifted towards a barrel, brought forth from the arbor. within lay a deep crimson liquid ── the finest of arbor reds. ❝ it is a gift from me and my dear cousin, the lord of the arbor. however, i fear it amounts to nothing in comparison to my gift. ❞ alerie tightly wrapped aegon within her clutches, similar to the fashion of a spider and a wee fly. the newly christened king was brought forth into her orbit.

“Do not underestimate a second son that has given everything and gotten nothing in return.”

He spoke, his voice soft as his eye lingered on her face. She was beautiful, yes, but he saw through her façade of big eyes and her smile and frankly she made him sick. He had no doubt she had worked to get where she was, but what she called hard work was something that made Aemond want to turn away from her. If he could, he would have her removed from the city and locked in a dungeon somewhere far away. Women like her were despicable and dangerous but in none of the right ways. Though, were there really any right ways?

WITHIN BUBBLED A LAUGH, the little queen unable to truly halt, or cease. boldly he had sought himself as superior ── better in every manner. it was quite apparent he looked down upon her. mayhaps his distaste was rooted within her scandalous and promiscuous nature. there was another possibility ── the lack of royalty she possessed prior to her marriage.

the prince’s words had sired her laughter, a soft fit of giggles trailing from her pink lips. dragons always chose dragons. thus far those very words appeared to be lies. for aegon had not yearned, nor preferred his marriage to helaena. the king had seemingly possessed no love for his sister-wife and ever was it apparent. said displeasure drove him into her arms ── leaving him malleable and swift to seduce. like the weakened men before him, the king succumbed. he was now utterly and completely enamored with the little rose.

            ❛  𝘐'𝘔 𝘛𝘈𝘒𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘛 𝘚𝘓𝘖𝘞, 𝘍𝘌𝘌𝘋𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘔𝘠 𝘍𝘓𝘈𝘔𝘌.  ❜

#THRNDROSE ──── independent, private and very selective rp-blog for ALERIE TYRELL, an original character of HBO'S House of the Dragon. primarily show and headcanon based. canon character, crossover & au friendly. not spoiler free. dark content lies ahead, exercise caution. please read rules before interacting. this blog will contain possible triggering and taboo material such as murder, gore and incestuous themes. please note this is for fictional purposes only. in no way does the mun condone any of these actions. please follow at your own discretion.

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒; 𝙽𝙾𝚅𝙴𝙻 𝚀𝚄𝙾𝚃𝙴𝚂 𝙱𝚈 𝙶𝙴𝙾𝚁𝙶𝙴 𝚁.𝚁. 𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙸𝙽.

change  pronouns,  tenses  and  other  details  as  deemed  necessary. &  please  specify  muse  when  sending  to  a  mumu. slightly edited wording for roleplaying purposes.

My  skin  has  turned  to  porcelain,  to  ivory,  to  steel.

Any  act  can  be  a  prayer,  if  done  as  well  as  we  are  able.

A  man  who  hates  music  can’t  be  trusted,  I  always  say.

Has  my  tale  turned  you  speechless?  Come,  curse  me  or  kiss  me  or  call  me  a  liar.  Something.

A  bag  of  gold  buys  a  man's  silence  for  a  while,  but  a  well-placed  arrow  buys  it  forever.

If  I  am  a  monster,  perhaps  you  should  speak  more  softly  to  me,  then.  Monsters  are  dangerous  beasts,  and  just  now  kings  seem  to  be  dying  like  flies.

Every  man  must  die,  [NAME].  But  first  he  must  live.

You're  mine.  Mine,  as  I'm  yours.

[NAME]  fought  valiantly,  [NAME]  fought  nobly,  [NAME]  fought  honorably.  And  [NAME] died.

Old  stories  are  like  old  friends  You  have  to  visit  them  from  time  to  time.

You  were  made  to  be  kissed,  often  and  well.

Half-truths  are  worth  more  than  outright  lies.

Some  battles  are  won  with  swords  and  spears,  others  with  quills  and  ravens.

Soon  comes  the  cold,  and  the  night  that  never  ends.

Always  keep  your  foes  confused.  If  they  are  never  certain  who  you  are  or  what  you  want,  they  cannot  know  what  you  are  like  to  do  next.

They’ve  never  seen  a  battle,  they’ve  never  seen  a  man  die,  they  know  nothing. 

Madness  and  greatness  are  two  sides  of  the  same  coin. 

Only  lies  offend  me,  never  honest  counsel.

Woman?  Is  that  meant  to  insult  me?  I  would  return  the  slap,  if  I  took  you  for  a  man.

We  look  up  at  the  same  stars  and  see  such  different  things.

I  crossed  a  thousand  leagues  to  come  to  you,  and  lost  the  best  part  of  me  along  the  way.  Don't  tell  me  to  leave.

I've  lost  a  hand,  a  father,  a  son,  a  sister,  and  a  lover,  and  soon  enough  I  will  lose  a  brother.  And  yet  they  keep  telling  me  my  family  won  this  war.

All  these  kings  would  do  a  deal  better  if  they  would  put  down  their  swords  and  listen  to  their  mothers.

I  must  be  strong.  I  must  have  fire  in  my  eyes  when  I  face  them,  not  tears.

Why  ask  for  truth  if  you  close  your  ears  to  it?

There  is  a  savage  beast  in  every  man,  and  when  you  hand  that  man  a  sword  or  spear  and  send  him  forth  to  war,  the  beast  stirs.

Always  keep  your  foes  confused.  If  they  are  never  certain  who  you  are  or  what  you  want,  they  cannot  know  what  you  are  like  to  do  next.

If  you  love  me  all  so  much,  why  are  you  still  dressed?

There's  been  no  one.  Only  you.

Why  do  the  Gods  make  kings  and  queens  if  not  to  protect  the  ones  who  can't  protect  themselves?

Explain  to  me  why  it  is  more  noble  to  kill  ten  thousand  men  in  battle  than  a  dozen  at  dinner.

We're  all  just  songs  in  the  end.  If  we  are  lucky.

All  men  are  fools,  if  truth  be  told,  but  the  ones  in  motley  are  more  amusing  than  ones  with  crowns.

“Rationally … that’s easy for you to say.” He frowned at her and narrowed his eyes. How could she ever understand? She was not the one who had lost a child. And how … Gods be cursed. He had seen the body, the frail remains of his little son, head being sewn back onto the body as if it would make it any less brutal and disgusting that it had happened to him. And then the parade … his mother and Helaena riding through the city with Jaehaerys displayed for all to grieve over. It was disgusting. It had made him sick and while he had raged and demanded it was not done, they had gone through with it anyway. 

That was his life. Even his own grief was not his own. Nothing ever was, nothing had ever been since the very moment he had taken his first breath all those years ago. His grief, his anger, his pain … It was all owned by the public, by the smallfolk and the people on the small council, for them to use to their advantage. But he was done with it. He was broken, and he was adamant to make his half-sister pay. She would bleed for this. It did not matter how, but he would figure it out. He would make her suffer for it. 

Sighing, he punched a wall to let out the last bits of his latest burst of rage and took a deep breath, the expression on his face changing. Rage shifting into a deadly kind of determination, filled with the desire and need for vengeance. “Fine … I will think and I will wait. But that bitch is going to pay for this. I am going to tear her apart even if it is the last thing I ever do.”

NOTHING WAS A PRIVATE MATTER. lords, ladies, servants and smallfolk alike knew as to what the crown did. their lives were not private, their marriage was not private. she could only imagine the hushed whispers that drifted about within flea bottom ── in particular during his announcement of his divorce from queen helaena. it felt dirty. her life    . . .    their life upon display for the realm to see. yet, she craved it, even if it was scandalous. adrenaline coursed through her veins at the mere thought. the newly christened queen got what she desired, her title. there was still more she yearned for, however.

how could she ever understand his grief? he had lost a child ── something she did not possess. aegon appeared to be consumed by his grief. silently she pondered if he continued to frequently lose himself within his cups of arbor red. for often she smelled it upon his breath. it was known the king dallied in his beloved wine even prior to the murder of his son. according to the whispers he was a drunk ── a gluttonous, lazy and lustful drunk. alerie had seen a tidbit of his various activities. it was what made him quite an easy target.

she jumped slightly as he promptly punched the nearby wall. the young queen remained silent for a brief moment, recalling the promise she had given him. a son ── alerie had promised him a son from their union, and soon she'd have to deliver. ❝ you shall have your war soon enough, your grace. ❞ she stepped forth, wrapping her arms around his waist in the attempts to soothe him.

The Stranger did not discriminate. He did not care about who was pure and pious, who was horrid and hideous, who was cold and cruel. He simply took and took and took, stealing away the life forces of countless and leaving them with no choice but to die, passing from this mortal realm onto the next. Childbed gave him the perfect opportunity to do as such, as shown by how Alyssa – bold, brave Alyssa – had been stolen, stripped mercilessly away. Her strength had seemingly been great, near otherworldly, and yet, the birth of her youngest son had seen any semblance of that strength dissipating, disappearing and flying away with the breeze. Twenty agonizing hours of pushing had passed in which she had whined, wailing at the top of her lungs due to the pure, unfettered pain that had been birthed beneath her skin. That pain had not wilted or wavered in the slightest, either; it had spread, straying and traveling the length of her form. Then, finally, her small, silver-haired babe was produced.

Aegon, Baelon had named him, beyond pleased, for while the birth had been stressful, strenuous, both his beloved wife and babe had survived. Yes, they were left frail, feeble, but the caretakers assured him that they would watch dutifully over the pair, doing anything and everything in their power to promote their chances of survival. Those chances seemed to grow, mounting with each passing day, but the key word there was seemed. They ultimately passed, causing Baelon’s heart to shatter, splintering into a million seemingly unmendable pieces. A long, lengthy period of time had followed, with him flailing, floundering like a fish out of water before finally, Viserra steadied him, stabilizing him amidst the storm that had threatened to envelop him, swallowing him whole and leaving nothing – not even a small, seemingly insignificant trace – behind.

Years later, the good, gracious Queen Aemma befell a similar fate, prompting Viserra to push Naerys in Viserys’ direction under the guise of serving as his companion, his closest confidant. Such was why the crown was pressed onto her head, marking her as his second queen.

Naerys did not desire Viserys, but she did love him, holding him impossibly close to her heart. So close that she had done her duty without hesitation or reserve, bringing forth four healthy, hearty children. She had done her best to mold them, making them into good and true members of House Targaryen, all the while maintaining a pure, palpable hold over the realm’s political sphere.

As Viserys delved deeper into the depths of disease, her hold waned, though.

Their crowns should pass to Aegon and Helaena, but Alerie seemed to think otherwise. Such was confirmed, cemented in reality by how her florid, flowery mask dropped, revealing the sharpness that lay beneath.

“Mind your tongue,” Naerys shot back, refusing to wilt, wavering in the face of the rumors that had been spat forth. Those rumors held no stock, after all, for while a piece of her heart belonged to her wild, willful brother, Daemon, she had not betrayed her marital vows. The same could not be said of Aegon, since he had strayed, slipping through the beds of the court’s ladies. “What is it that you desire, Alerie? For Aegon to set Helaena aside and marry you? Any children born of your union will fall behind the twins in the line of succession. Such is the way of the world.”

ALWAYS WAS HER SISTER DUTIFUL. far more loyal and faithful than mayhaps one should be. in her eyes, naerys was a stranger. her personality not nearly akin to that of their mother's. no, princess viserra was not a woman of duty ── she was cunning and quite vain with desires. such was the woman alerie saw before her father. for moons comparisons had been made in regards to her elder sister. according to those various claims, sweet naerys was far more like her father. yet, she possessed one ambition. it shined brightly within ── far more brighter than her own. it could not be ignored and mayhaps was surely a nuisance to king viserys. naerys desired for her brother-husband to name a new heir    . . .    aegon. to cast aside his eldest daughter and proclaim their son as the rightful heir. for the realm would not, could not, rally behind a woman. they would rather see it succumb to flames before such. thus aegon was the true heir, even if king viserys truly did not see such.

naerys was weak, even if she did not suspect such. yes, the realm would rally behind aegon for he was a male. however, she mayhaps truly did wilt    . . .    for her elder brother. many knew of the rogue prince’s ways, in particular his seduction of the whores of flea bottom. a trait his nephew, aegon, had followed. yet, the prince was unlike his uncle in various ways. both were handsome ── the young prince’s eyes were sullen and with a pouty mouth. alas aegon was no warrior, nor did he possess the features of one. he was no grand knight. no, he was a wild, gluttonous drunk. alerie saw him as a mere tool to gain her sole ambition. many maidens surely desired a prince such as aegon, and many moons ago it was mayhaps a desire she too shared. it was a tad    . . .    unfortunate he was her nephew. the mere fact occasionally prompting her nose to crinkle in disgust. yet, she brushed the thought aside for her ambitions.

she masked her true thoughts from aegon, for such would taint her manipulation and seduction tactics. all he saw was the love she had given him ── the affection she had shown. it was clear he was starved for such. denied by both his mother and father. this denial had made him weak and malleable.

yet, there was sorrow for the prince. despite being a son ── the eldest son at that, he was not loved within the manner his elder sister was. rhaenyra was endlessly doted on by many. not just king viserys, but many lords and ladies alike. the princess had even captivated the attention of her uncle, daemon. aegon, helaena, aemond and daeron were forgotten. appearing to have ceased from the mind of the dwindling king.

❝ mind my tongue for speaking the truth, dear sister? ❞ venom was laced within her words, nails now digging into the flesh of naerys’ palm. it was painfully apparent, at least to young alerie, that naerys did not truly love viserys. always did her eyes appear to grow cold ── seemingly tired, or bored.