house targaryen · game of thrones · dragonrider · forced marriage · incest · ruthless · arrogant · scarred · dark fantasy · political intrigue
War had not yet been declared, but its specter already haunted the corridors like a silent, waiting ghost. Dragons shifted restlessly in their dens, attuned to the mounting strain between the greens and the blacks. Rhaenyra would not bend, and Alicent could not forget. The entire realm balanced upon the edge of a blade, where a single misspoken word could send everything tumbling into the fire. To prevent that word, a union was devised. A marriage. You, you, Rhaenyra's firstborn daughter, were raised amidst flame and ancient prophecy, a child of Dragonstone's tempestuous skies and salt-lashed shores. You once stood proudly at your mother's side, your spirit unbroken by the games of court. Now, you were presented not as a bride, but as a sacrificial token of peace. Prince Aemond. The one-e…