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librosamarillos · 1 year

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chapter 20: good faith treaties

Maegor Targaryen x OC

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Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, angst, mature themes, targaryen incest, violence, Maegor is a red flag himself, characters are ooc probably, MINORS DNI

Maegor hated the Riverlands. He came to that conclusion after spending a day in Elston Tully’s seat in Riverrun castle. The weather was miserable and muddy, the castle walls doing little to stop the mosquitos from invading. But what he hated most was being alone with his thoughts. He couldn’t sit still for the few days it took for his men to arrive from King’s Landing, so he took it upon himself to fly with Balerion at night, over Harrenhal, each night going a bit lower, almost eager to see if anyone was dumb enough to fire arrows at his great beast. He thirsted for blood. He thrived on the knowledge that all of Red Harren’s men were cowering in fear in that damned castle, their upcoming deaths sinking in as they stood guard.

It took three days of this until his men arrived, and another for them to rest after their travels. Lord Elston was an older man, but seemed to know his way around a battlefield. He would make a very useful ally to have at his side, one more head of a great house admitting Maegor was the best option for the throne. He almost felt a bit guilty. Aenys was already a disaster at being King, even after all the effort their father had spent on him, but he was trying to be a big brother to Maegor. But, Maegor was doing him a favour. Without the crown on his head, he could do all he enjoyed without the weight of responsibility of important decisions on his shoulders. He would be free to sing and dance at feasts, like he always loved to when they were younger. Maegor remembered he did that often. Yes, it’s a favour he’d be granting him.

But then again, in order for his plans to work at all, he needed an heir. It had become a constant headache for him. On one hand, Rowan was right, such things needed time to come to be, but on the other hand, he didn’t have all the time in the world. After smashing all the rebels, it would be a perfect time to strike, to make his claim, while his prowess was fresh in the minds of the people. Maegor was doing his part, it had become a chore, but he was doing his part. He would even invite her family over to stay as an apology for lashing out at her, and yet, they still had nothing to show for it.

Ceryse was older, seven and twenty, while Maegor was nine and ten, just entering his prime. She still had her moonblood, so she should be fertile, but at this point, he couldn’t help but put all the blame on her. This was his plan and dream since he was a boy, and his lack of an heir would erase his mother’s line and put the crown back on Rhaenys’. He wouldn’t let that happen. Lots of things went through Maegor’s mind, of how to prevent this. He knew he couldn’t wait for Ceryse, not while she was nearing thirty. Perhaps he could take another.

And why not? His father had two wives- his mother was miserable at the arrangement, but Ceryse had no love for him, she’d get used to things. It wasn’t as if he was going to marry for love anyway. That was taken from him, his Rowan, his sweet Rowan, was taken from him the day his father forced him into this marriage to Ceryse. Maegor knew he couldn’t be with her, not in any way that wouldn’t disgrace her and her virtue. No matter how hard he was clinging onto her, he knew he had no choice but to watch from afar as she went on to marry, just as he did, and have a family, away from the capital, away from him.

He knew such a decision would upset the faith, but since when did dragons bow to anyone? His heart ached when he thought of Rowan, who surely wouldn’t understand nor support such a thing. But she knew him like no one else did. She knew him best of all, surely she would come to see where he was coming from once his plans came to be, once he wore the crown. She’d understand… right?

Before long, the day that they would march came. He flew over Harrenhal one last time, having Balerion roar his black flames at the sky as an omen and a deadly promise of what was to come for them. He didn’t plan to use Balerion in battle, instead opting to fight with his men. He wanted them to see that even without a dragon, they stood no chance. He gathered his men in the camp they had set up and gave his instructions loudly and clearly. He had a thousand men in total, they would attack them from all sides. His eyes landed on Tybolt as he dismissed them to prepare.

There he was, the man that was causing him the biggest headache since he came into the picture. Did this fool even know how precious Rowan was? Did he have the mind to even comprehend what a diamond she was? Or was he only blinded by her beauty, too blind to realise how smart and kind and sweet she truly was? It was clear as day in Maegor’s mind that he didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as Rowan, let alone take her to wife. He’d take her far away from him, in Casterly Rock. Or…

“Lannister, you’ll be in the front with me.” he barked, staring down at the blond. Tybolt’s green eyes widened and Maegor’s frown deepened. His eyes were a lighter shade of green than his Rowan’s were. If he succeeded and took her to wife, their children would have green eyes too. The thought only flared Maegor’s anger even more. “I go where the fighting is thickest, let’s see if there’s any lion in you, or if you’re only good for tourneys.” he said ominously. Rowan wouldn’t put blame on him if Tybolt was too stupid and weak to survive the battle. If anything, Maegor was doing her a favour. He’d show her how weak and useless of a husband Tybolt would’ve made, one unable to protect her truly.

“As you command, your grace.” Tybolt finally found his voice, as he took a breath, trying to stop his hands from messing with his gloves nervously. Pathetic. “It will be an honour to fight by your side.” he added, his voice returning back to the confident tone he always had.

“It might be the last honour you ever receive- if you’ve ever received one, that is.” Maegor stated, his voice dripping with sarcasm, something he wasn’t used to at all. He always spoke bluntly, but he couldn’t be truthful in this case. Tybolt seemed to hesitate for a moment, before he spoke up again.

“In my eight and ten years, I cannot say I’ve had the chance, my Prince. So far, my biggest honour is my knighthood and a special pin.” he spoke, his lion’s pride showing. He had puffed his chest slightly, making the pin more visible. Maegor frowned. Rowan’s unmistakeable craftsmanship, it was almost identical to the one she had made for him before, only more detailed. It was the pin intended for Maegor, with her prayers carved into it while she made it with her own two hands. Tybolt smiled while Maegor’s eyes scanned the pin, as if he were showing off the fact that a beautiful lady had made it for him.

“Careful now, Tybald…” Maegor’s violet eyes stared down at the man intensely, as he took a small step closer to him, hovering over him dangerously. “Before the day ends, you might disappoint the poor maiden that made that for you.” he spoke slowly, almost threatening him. A few soldiers nearby seemed to snicker at the sight of Tybolt cowering slightly, and also not having the balls to correct Maegor. He said nothing else, as he went into his tent to prepare for battle.

A moment of silence was all he needed. Some water, some peace. He didn’t pray, he didn’t believe in the gods, but he had his own way of devotion. In his trunk, he had something of hers, one of the many handkerchiefs he stole, that smelled just like her. Jasmines, sweet jasmines. He smelled it silently, picturing his love in front of him, hugging him softly, praying over him so devotedly. Knowing he would return to her victorious only fueled his drive to win even further. He had to apologise, to tell her he was being stupid and ridiculous for even entertaining the thought of being upset with her. He’d do just that once he returned.

Once he came out of his tent, two men awaited him. Lord Tully and another man. He looked to be on the older side, far too lean to be a warrior of any sort. Maegor raised a brow as he approached, and Lord Elston spoke up.

“Your grace, if I may introduce to you, Lord Lucas Harroway. He has supplied our men with food and tents.” Elston said, patting the man on the back lightly. The two seemed to be friends, the Tully lord wanting to, not so subtly, help his friend gain favour with the crown. Maegor didn’t mind, he preferred this to the mind games of the capital.

“It is an honour to meet you, my Prince. Our bannermen admire your achievements greatly. Your strength and strategy are something to look up to.” Lucas Harroway spoke, his voice higher than what he had expected. He was tall and lean and had a crooked nose, once Maegor looked closer. He nodded, never one to turn away from praise, although it was a bit too obvious he was trying to get on his good side.

“Will you be fighting with us?” Maegor asked, looking at him up and down, sizing him up. No, surely not. Even if he was an okay warrior in his prime, he definitely wouldn't last. Lucas let out a laugh, shaking his head.

“I’m afraid I’d be no help to you in battle, my Prince. My days with the sword are behind me. No, I have sent two of my sons to your cause, as well as horses, food and tents. Anything else you may need, your grace, you need only to call upon me.” the man replied, his voice holding good humour. Maegor nodded and thanked the man. He was from a small house and was eager to please the crown. Good. He could use an ally like him. He, very willingly, supplied them with nearly all he had, his loyalty could be something Maegor could hold him to. His mother did say it was important to pay attention to which house helped him most, to make Harrenhal their reward. Maegor could see Lucas was a good candidate.

Maegor didn’t want to waste any more time in the camp, he was eager to put Blackfyre to good use, to prove himself the warrior he knew he was. He led his army toward Harrenhal, where they found Red Harren’s men waiting for them. He wasted no time, offered no chance of a parlay, and rushed into battle.

Fighting felt like second nature to him. Blackfyre felt like it was an extension of his body, something that was always meant to belong to him. All of his pent up aggression finally found release, as he cut through the rebels like they were nothing. The rush that killing gave him was unlike anything else, the blood being spilled being addictive. It was oh so tempting to accidentally swing his sword a bit too close to Tybolt’s direction, but he held himself back. With the adrenaline and the blood splattered onto him, Maegor felt like he could take over the world.

Soon, the rebels were reduced to piles of bodies outside of the castle. Two of his soldiers dragged the man who started all of this in front of Maegor. Like a coward, Red Harren had attempted to run off, but Maegor smirked at the sight of him, frightened and defeated. He seemed like he had something to say, perhaps a plea for mercy or some kind of speech before he died. Maegor didn’t spare him a moment and as the man opened his mouth to speak, he cut his head clean off.

“Stick his head and body on spikes around the castle gates. Let the people see what happens to those who dare speak and act against the dragon. Let him rot up there.” he commanded, earning curt nods from his men. He didn’t know how much time had passed, how many he had killed, all that he knew was that this felt good. In the battlefield, he could escape the pain that tormented him, he had something else to focus on. He turned to look for the man he had hoped was dead, but Tybolt was unfortunately alive. He was however injured. Served him right.

Maegor returned to the camp in the early hours of the morning, after bathing in a nearby river. He was well satisfied with the results of the battle, as well as the loyalty the men that fought alongside him were showing him. He was proving himself to be a formidable leader. His tent was the biggest, as he was both a Prince and hand of the King. It was finally silent, a moment for him to breathe after being in the thick of the battle and all the yelling that came along with it. His hair was still wet as his head hit the pillow, but he couldn’t bother to care.

His mind already wandered to his Rowan. Was she worried about him like she always did, or was she angry enough to not care? He wouldn’t blame her if she was angry, she should be. He acted like a child. His mind raced with all the ways he could apologise to her, but then he stopped for a moment. If he were to do what he was thinking of doing, he would only be hurting her more. What good would his apology do if he was going to hurt her all over again? He sighed, wishing he could just stop thinking and fall asleep, but his brain refused. A guard that was stationed outside the tent announced that someone was there to see him.

“Enter.” he grunted, getting up from the bed, unbothered that he was basically in his nightclothes. Lucas Harroway entered the tent, holding a tray in his hands that smelled divine in that moment. Maegor came to realise he was fucking starving.

“I was looking for you, my Prince, and the guards informed me you were here. I’d hate to intrude, but I figured you’d be starving after a whole day of battle. I had my cooks brought out here, to make sure the armies were well fed.” the man spoke, placing the tray on the table, uncovering the plate, releasing all the steam that was trapped under it. “Honeyed chicken, your grace.” he announced, as the scent made Maegor almost salivate.

“Thank you, Lord Harroway. Your eagerness to serve has not gone unnoticed.” Maegor took a few steps closer to the table, getting straight to the point. He didn’t have the patience to beat around the bush for any hidden motives. “You have a town named after your house, and you run it quite well. You seem close to your overlord and his house, and now you seem to wish to become close to me. Eager to climb up in the world, are you not?” he asked, as he took a seat on the chair.

“Is that such a bad thing, your grace? If I see the opportunity to elevate my position, and by extension my family, why would I not take it? Especially if it was a benefit to us both.” Lucas Harroway did not seem to falter. His slightly crooked smile didn’t fall even for a second. It was slightly annoying, but at this point, everything annoyed Maegor. He could appreciate the honesty, as well as take advantage of the situation.

“A benefit to us both? Are you planning to serve me chicken often?” Maegor asked, his voice holding no humour at all. It was clear what the man was after, but he wanted to hear it from his own mouth.

“The seat of Harrenhal is now vacant, I assume it would not be wise for the crown to leave it so for longer than a few weeks' time. I doubt I am the first, nor the last to have interest in such a position. I am, however, a very grateful man. If you were to put in a good word with the King, I would remain forever in your debt, and you could rely on me for any… claims you might wish to take, in the future.” his voice was quiet and discreet for the last few words. Lucas had clearly heard the whispers, the support that Maegor had. Yet what he was implying was treason, to suggest that he’d usurp Aenys, and yet, he spoke it as if he knew that’s what Maegor was planning to do anyway.

“Sit.” he gestured at the chair near him. “You and I might have some things to discuss.”

Visenya’s solar had become kind of a sanctuary for Rowan. Even when it was completely empty, it gave her that sense of peace and privacy that she couldn't find anywhere else on castle grounds. She bit her lip nervously as she sat alone at the table, playing with her rings. The Dowager Queen had taken Vhagar for a flight to gods know where, as she did often these days. Flying seemed to help her deal with the loss of her husband, and Rowan was happy that Visenya found some peace in the clouds, but as she was up in the skies, news broke of Prince Maegor’s victory in Harrenhal.

The people rejoiced, as did Rowan, breathing a sigh of relief knowing that he was alright. However, the maester had handed her a letter designated for Visenya’s eyes only. She was holding it in her hands, nervously eyeing it as she waited for her to return. It was sealed with red wax, the three headed dragon seal stamped in the middle, and Maegor’s unmistakable handwriting naming Visenya the recipient.

Rowan was torn. On one hand, Visenya told her everything, even things she wouldn’t say to Maegor, so she wouldn't mind it if she read the letter, right? She’d understand that it was killing her not to, but still… what if it contained something not meant for Rowan’s eyes at all, some political secret Maegor wished to discuss only with his mother?

She sighed. She was still so upset with him, no matter how much she understood where he was coming from. She also felt so frustrated with herself for not being more careful about hiding the pin she had worked so hard to carve out just for Maegor… but maybe it was for the best. What was she to do? A match like Tybolt, who was kind and so close in age with her, was hard to come by. Sure, she didn’t feel ready, but then again she didn’t think she’d ever get over her love for Maegor. Did that mean she’d spend her days watching him from afar, watching him have a family with Ceryse and raise his sons and daughters? She couldn’t do that, it would kill her. If she waited for her heart to feel ready, she’d never have a family of her own, she’d be dead before her love for Maegor died. She truly didn’t know what to do. Who could she talk to of this? Her father could guide her perhaps… maybe she could talk to a septon. It could help.

At the sound of the door opening, Rowan let out a sigh of relief, turning to see Visenya returning and ending this urge to tear the letter open, but that was not who had entered. Instead, her eyes met the King himself, who seemed just as baffled to see her there as she was baffled to see him. Quickly, Rowan rose and curtsied, bowing her head.

“Your grace.” she said, meeting his eyes again. Aenys looked like he was exhausted, despite the fact that he had an army of servants catering to his every need. Rowan felt bad for him, the burden of everything the past few months had dimmed the light in his eyes. He used to be such a happy young man, carefree and chirpy, but now, the crown weighed him down. He was nervous and unsure and insecure.

“Ah, my lady, I was hoping to find my aunt. I see that she’s not in her solar, would you know where she is?” he asked, his voice soft, if a bit tired. He wore intricate, expensive and elegant purple robes. She and Ceryse had noted that it was almost excessive, but it fit his personality well. She couldn’t picture him in anything else.

“The Dowager Queen has taken Vhagar to the skies. She’s usually gone for a few hours, she should be back soon, your grace. Would you like to leave a message for her when she returns?” Rowan spoke softly as well, sensing the nervousness that was radiating from Aenys. She wondered what this was about, since the news of Maegor’s victory were joyous. Perhaps there was a lot more she knew nothing about.

“No, no…” the King trailed, looking around the solar. “I believe it is better I speak to her in person.” he decided, his eyes landing back on Rowan. His eyes were lilac, a contrast to Maegor’s deep violet ones. Aenys looked like a true poet, with Valyrian being the known preferred language for poets in all the world; she wondered if he enjoyed poetry too. “You’re her lady in waiting, are you not? You seem quite comfortable in her solar.” he smiled, his words quite friendly.

“I am, your grace. She allows me to sit here when it’s not being used. I was waiting for her as well.” she explained, feeling quite embarrassed for some reason. Aenys nodded, and took a seat across from her with a small sigh.

“Then I hope you would not mind my company while I join you in waiting. Forgive me, may I ask your name again? I know you’re the daughter of Lord Evergreen.” he asked her politely. Aenys always had a soft and kind disposition, one that befitted a sensitive poet or singer.

“Rowan, your grace.” she gave a small smile.

“Ah, yes, of course! I recall you’d come to the capital accompanying your father when he was called to court! No wonder my aunt is so fond of you then!” he smiled again, letting out a small chuckle as he rested his elbows on the table, seeming very interested as she nodded. Perhaps he needed a small distraction from his worries. “I heard that Lord Evergreen is very well travelled, have you accompanied him elsewhere?” he asked.

“Yes, your grace. He handles the trade of our House’s resources, so I’ve accompanied him all over Westeros. He often took me to Oldtown, Highgarden and Dragonstone.” she explained. Aenys nodded, as if trying to recall something.

“I’ve been to Oldtown and Highgarden before, not as much as I’d like, I’m afraid. Such beautiful places you have in the Reach. They put King’s Landing to shame.” his eyes fell to one of the many rings on his hands, specifically his index finger. He lifted it up to show her. “I remember on one of the progressions I accompanied my father, he got this for me. They have some very skilled jewellers in Oldtown, do they not?” he asked softly. Rowan admired the detailed handiwork, surely created by expert hands. She could recall which jeweller it could be, the work being unmistakably in the fashions of the Reach. She thought that Aenys would thrive in the Reach out of every other kingdom, with its pleasant weather, plentiful wine, its lively atmosphere and singers, dancers, mummers alike.

“It’s beautiful, your grace. The fashions of the Reach truly suit you.” she spoke the compliment softly. She pictured him in those younger days, when he accompanied his father all over Westeros, not unlike how she accompanied her own father all over the continent. Rowan was so happy when she travelled with her father and seeing how Aenys was looking at his ring so fondly, it wouldn’t be far-fetched to assume that he treasured those times he spent with Aegon.

Rowan barely ever saw Aenys, let alone speak with him, while growing up. She only witnessed the “other” side of Aenys and Aegon’s relationship, Visenya and Maegor. He had told her that Aenys was acting out of guilt, perhaps upon looking back and realising how ignored and neglected Maegor was by their sire, and Rowan could absolutely see that. Aenys was far more genuine and true than what she remembered Rhaenys to be, so she didn’t find any reason to doubt his intentions to get closer to Maegor as a brother. With his father, Aenys was truly happy, but now that was gone. Rowan couldn’t imagine the pain she’d be in if she were to lose her own father, let alone the stress of having to run a country on top of that, with little to no time to mourn. She hoped he at least found solstace in his wife and children, and with time and trust, Maegor as well.

“That’s very kind of you to say, thank you, my lady.” he nodded, taking a silent second to reflect on something, as if he were connecting some dots. “Say, you basically grew up on Dragonstone, in the guidance of my aunt, no?” he asked, his lilac eyes suddenly much brighter. His face, however, was a bit unreadable and that made Rowan a bit nervous as to where he was taking this conversation. Still, she nodded and the King continued. “You are my brother’s friend, then! I do recall you had given him your favour in a tourney many years ago, did you not?” he asked, clasping his hands together, leaning in, with a small smile creeping on his lips.

“We used to be friends as children, that is true, your grace. I did give him my favour, but that must’ve been about ten years ago.” she said, feeling guilty for lying, but she couldn’t risk people finding out just how close the two were, let alone the King.

“Used to? What happened?” Aenys asked quickly, perhaps too quickly to be considered polite, but he caught himself just as fast. “Forgive me, my lady, I did not wish to overstep. I merely wish to know more about my brother’s earlier days, since circumstances did not allow us to be closer.” he explained, his eyes still on hers, and she shook her head, politely.

“No, it’s alright, your grace. Nothing happened, we just grew up and grew apart. It’s a kind thing, to wish to know him better, I cannot fault you for this.” she offered a small smile. It was an absolute lie, of course. She and Maegor had spent their childhoods practically glued together. She missed those times more than anything. Her eyes trailed to the letter in her hands for a quick second, before she took a small breath. “He loved sparring from a very young age, I remember that no matter the weather, scorching heat or pouring rain, he’d be in the training yard for hours.” she recalled fondly, hoping this would be enough to encourage the King to keep trying to get close to Maegor.

“Even for a short time, I’m happy to hear that he had a friend.” he smiled, almost in relief. Perhaps it truly was out of guilt. Perhaps he pictured Maegor growing up completely alone, and for the most part, that was true. They were eight years old when they met and became inseparable, but the time before that was one of solitude for him. Maegor never spoke of it badly, never showed any regret either, but he made it clear he was happy he had met her. It melted any anger she felt toward him about their recent fight. “You are much closer to my aunt, if I may ask how that happened? My aunt is… a rather closed off person.” his eyes were apologetic and soft, a yearning for any stability clear in them. Rowan slightly bit her lip.

“It’s a long story, your grace.” she said, but Aenys shook his head.

“We have lots of time until she returns, do we not?” he smiled, urging her to go on.

“Well, as you know, my father had been one of her closest advisors, I’d even dare to say they are friends. Once she had heard of my mother’s passing, she urged him to bring me with him when he returned to Dragonstone, mainly I believe because of how much of a toll it took on me. I was only seven when she passed, I can honestly say it was the hardest year that followed. My father thought that travelling would do me well, it was a way for us to mourn together, but also to get back into the rhythm of life.” she explained, her eyes unable to meet his at the mention of her mother. It felt a tad too inappropriately personal to speak of dead mothers, something they both shared. “The Dowager Queen was so kind to me, she allowed me to roam free in the libraries, and the castle as a whole. She felt bad about me at first, I think, but eventually we became close. I began to look up at her as a second mother. My father has always been a stellar father, made sure I would want for nothing and I truly could not have been more blessed to be his daughter, but there are just some things he simply cannot substitute. It was her that guided me from girlhood to womanhood, and it truly pained me everytime my father and I would leave. I was so happy when she asked me to be her lady in waiting, to know that she wanted me to remain by her side, just I wish to remain by hers, your grace.” she finished her sentence and finally looked up at the King, who was looking at her with a sad smile and furrowed brows.

“It seems we have a lot in common, Lady Rowan. I can imagine she played a huge part in raising you. I… I regret that I was never close with my aunt. In truth, I feel like I know nothing about her. If I may be honest, she frightened me as a child, I could not imagine a softer side to her at all. But how wrong I used to be.” his smile faltered, now a small frown in its place.

Rowan wished, in that moment, that the two were friends so that she could freely explain everything to him, to tell him the whole truth, but how could she ever? How could she explain to him that the cost of his parents’ happiness was Visenya’s misery and heartache, heartache she had experienced since she was a child? Or that Visenya was truly such a precious person, a person that thrived in the love of her family and yet that was what was denied to her. Rowan witnessed the woman she called a second mother crumble and cry and weep and she held her. She had been holding her since she was a child, and she had never told anyone. She never would. How could she explain to him the wounds that Rhaenys left behind, all the complicated emotions that existed between them, and how could she explain to him that the main reason she never wanted to be close to him was his resemblance to his mother, her eyes, nose, lips, her voice, the shade of her hair, not to mention their personalities. It was a constant reminder to Visenya, one that ate at her. Rowan wished she could magically mend the bond between him and his aunt, but it was not her place to do so at all.

“The Dowager Queen has always acted in the best interests of the Realm and crown. It’s her life’s work. She will remain by your side, no matter how distant she may feel, your grace. Perhaps time will help. Step by step, no matter how small.” she encouraged him gently, offering him a comforting smile.

“It must’ve been hard losing your mother so young.” he finally broke the small silence that fell between them. “I lost her when I was in my teens and I don’t think I’ve recovered. And now, my father too…” he sighed. He seemed comfortable to speak of such personal things with her, she didn’t know why. Rowan would never betray his trust, but was it wise to speak so candidly to someone who was a near complete stranger?

“I don’t think I’ll ever recover from my mother’s loss, but I just learned to live with my pain and grief. I’ve made space for it, so that it no longer hinders me.” she admitted. “I cannot imagine losing my father as well. He has been my whole world, the mere idea makes me want to weep. I cannot begin to imagine how you must be feeling now, let alone with the duty that is now yours. Both your aunt and brother wish to stand by your side, your grace, no matter how distant they appear.” Aenys sighed in relief, nodding. His eyes held gratitude, his lips turning up into a small smile. He truly did not look like a King. He looked like a boy who needed a hug.

Before Aenys could open his mouth to speak, the doors swung open, revealing Visenya, still in her riding clothes, smelling of dragon. Her eyes immediately met the two, confusion painted on her face at the potential conversation they could’ve been having.

“Nephew, to what do I owe this visit? Something to do with Maegor’s newest victory, I presume?” her deep, familiar voice was always a comfort to Rowan, but seemed to unnerve Aenys, making him look like a boy who was asked to straighten his back.

“Yes, aunt, that would be correct. But I do believe your Lady Rowan has been waiting for you longer.” his eyes went back to Rowan and the letter in her hands. Aenys was ever the gentleman, or perhaps he wanted to see what kind of mood Visenya was in. Nevertheless, Rowan dutifully got up and delivered the letter in Visenya’s hands.

“Prince Maegor has written to you, your grace.” she explained, moving to pour Visenya some fresh water to cool off from flying for so many hours. While she did this, Visenya broke the wax seal and read the letter her son had written. She accepted the goblet with her free hand, taking a sip while reading. Aenys’ attention had peaked when he heard that his brother had written and his curiosity seemed to now match Rowan’s. Visenya smiled slightly.

“It seems that Maegor has some opinions about what should happen to Harrenhal, after speaking to the lords that helped in our fight.” she explained, handing the letter to Rowan, nodding for her to read it. Her eyes found Maegor’s very familiar handwriting in High Valyrian, as Visenya urged her to read it so Aenys could hear.

“Mother,

Red Harren and his men have fallen. Rest assured that I have made an example of the fools who dared rise against our house and I shall make sure to crush anyone else foolish enough to try. The battle lasted a day and a half and our side had only eleven losses.

I have spoken with the lords of the Houses we were considering granting Harrenhal to, and out of all of them, Lucas Harroway stood out. He offered us supplies, men, horses and food. He will prove to be loyal to the crown and he has experience of running Harroway town. He will make a good ally for us in the Riverlands. I will remain here to make sure that no one else has escaped, but we shall discuss this with my brother once I return.”

She translated in the common tongue as she read along. Her finger traced his words lightly and discreetly, a deep yearning in her heart. She felt such pride that he was victorious once more. He truly was born for battle. Aenys smiled in relief. She wondered if he was happy to hear that Maegor referred to him as his brother at long last. She felt hopeful for the two.

“This is great news! It is actually what I wished to talk about, who to grant Harrenhal to. Do you agree that it should go to him?” Aenys asked eagerly, his earlier down moods gone.

“We shall discuss in depth when Maegor returns. Rowan, my girl, could you go find everything we know about this Lord Harroway and his House?” she asked, giving her a knowing look. It meant to go get her father. Rowan nodded and excused herself to go do just that. She didn’t even realise she was still holding onto the letter, as she did.

After a week's time, upon Maegor’s return, it came to be. Lord Lucas Harroway was granted Harrenhal.

taglist:@heartstalked@stupidocupido@discowizard88@slytherisstuff

#maegor targaryen #maegor targaryen x oc #maegor the cruel

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mountain-ash-and-rusted-iron · 4 years

Text

this is an oc masterpost of all my haf-formed ocs languishing on pinterest with their messy aesthetics and unedited blurbs, in roughly chronological order of their creation, plus sorted by fandom. this post is only asoiaf, harry potter, hunger games, and riverdale, cos i have tooooooo many original characters otherwise and the post was getting incredibly long. (note that i love my ocs but these one’s are not polished or even the final versions of their characters, i just wanted to post them lol)

under a read more, if you’re on mobile start scrolling i guess, sorry,,,

Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire:

Laeya Targeryen: (child of Rhaella and Aerys Targaryen, born 280 AC - three years older than Danaerys)

Fearful of her impending marriage, Laeya is eleven when she takes her younger sister and flees across the sea to Dorne, hiding herself and Dany with dyed hair and badly controlled magic. As Leia and Dani Sand they learn to live normally. At 15 Leia joins the Royal Guard and secures Dany work as a tailor's apprentice. When she is 17, an assassin tries to kill her in front of the Dornish court and everything changes...

- so laeya straight up has magic, which im considering an extension of the dragon thing dany has - she can control flame and for the disguise uses her ‘inner fire’ to make her eyes white-blue like super hot flames, cos the purple eyes are super distinctive. and then she’s discovered and suddenly politics are happening. honestly she’s entirely a way for me to remove the child marriage bits of the targaryen storyline (stop marrying off your twelve-year-old baby sister viserys u asshole) - in terms of meta/basics, laeya doesn’t have a fc cos most of my early ocs don’t, and bcs i picture her as emilia clarke with faked dark hair and blue eyes lol

and a quick aesthetic below:

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Kyrra Snow: (child of Robert Baratheon and Maery Snow, birthdate ???)

Kyrra Snow is the eldest natural-born child of Robert Baratheon, current King of Westeros, and daughter of Maery Snow, a Southron (but Northern-born) merchant woman. After her mother realises Kyrra was growing up a little too much like her father in looks and needed to leave the far South before she caught the wrong sort of attention, Kyrra was sent off to travel with her aunt and cousins. She is 17 and heading further north, to Winter Town, when Jon Arryn dies.

- kyrra’s another child of everyone’s favourite asshole king, and she’s got a lot of people after her head, but she just wants to travel and continue her work as a simple peddler. (riiip poor girl) honestly she’s not that developed but yolo -

aes:

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Brynn Stark: (child of Catelyn and Eddard Stark, Robb’s twin sister)

Brynn believes in honour and family, and she is loyal to Winterfell and the North above all else. Likes - archery, embroidery and weaving. Betrothed to [some young Northern lord] to keep the bonds between the Norther families strong.

-i basically made brynn as a contrast to sansa’s pro-southnness and excessive femininity and arya’s anger and desire for swords (relatable mood tho lmao). so brynn is here to mediate, extoll the virtues of both needlework and weapons, make a decent marriage to someone she likes, if not loves, and hold down the fort in the North while shit gets increasingly messier in the South. and a possible faceclaim is Àstrid Bergès-Frisbey -

aes:

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Rosienne Lannister: (child of Joanna and Tywin Lannister, born 273 AC)

Rose is looked at by the realm with dismissal, a consolation prize for her father, a spare daughter only useful for matchmaking, but at least able-bodied and pretty, unlike her brother. After a long betrothal, Rose is married to Willas Tyrell at the age of eighteen, cementing her role as the next Lady of High Garden...

- Rosie/Rose is a bonus Lannister, bcs why not. likes cyvasse and the harp, soft and kind and maternal, powerful in her own way. originally she was from a minor divergence where joanna survives tyrion’s birth and goes on to have another kid, but not sure if i’ll keep that aspect, so for now she’s tyrion’s twin -

and her aes (yes that quote is cropped, no i don’t care rn):

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honourable mentions to my other got underdeveloped got/asoiaf ocs who need more effort before i post properly about them:

Tamlen Storm, a rookery apprentice (working for the Maester of House Tully, managing the ravens) who may or may not be a reincarnated si-oc trying to save westeros,

and an unnamed northern huntress who stumbled into the plot somehow and wants her normal life back (entirely inspired by Keira Knightley as Gwyn in Princess of Thieves, when she’s doing archery stuff and looking v butch).

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Harry Potter:

Taurus ‘Ara’ Lestrange: (child of Bellatrix and Roldolphous Lestrange, born 1978)

Raised by the Goblins after a legal mix-up following her parents' imprisonment in Azkaban, Taurus is good with a sword and aiming to be the next Minister of Magic. She attends Hogwarts with the other magical kids her age, under the fake identity Ara Burke, unknown cousin of a minor half-blood family. When the Potter brat’s drama starts destroying her change at an education just as her fourth year, her OWL prep year, begins, Ara intervenes.

- im tangentially aware that as bellatrix’s kid she’s almost occupying the place of whats-her-name from the cursed child, but considering that i know nothing about the cursed child and don’t care about it anyway, i have elected to ignore this. her actual parent might turn out to be some smitten half-blood from a minor branch of the Greengrass family, or it might actually be Rodolphous, who knows. slightly inspired by the fic ‘Harry Crow’ (by robst on ff.net) where harry is raised by the goblins -

messy aes:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Valerian Potter: (child of Lily and James Potter, born 1980)

After the Potter twins’ parents are murdered by Voldemort, they’re dumped on the doorstep of Number 4, Privet Drive. Dealing with two traumatised magical orphans, Petunia and Vernon Dursley turn to violence and neglect to stay in control, acting far more harshly than expected. With the arrival of two Hogwarts letters, life gets complicated incredibly quickly. (Self-sufficient and scarred from abuse, Val and Harry are immediately Sorted into Slytherin).

- val’s fic is basically an angst fest, okay,,, -

aes:

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and shout-outs to: holly addison potter, a half-baked reincarnation si-oc (i love that concept a lot, can u tell) and my fav girl thea dursley, who already has her own fic and so isn’t getting a proper spot in this post

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The Hunger Games:

Asher: (District Two, age 18)

[rip no blurb for asher]

-asher is a career from two, who wins the 70th games. mostly im focusing on her recovery and how the games function in two, with training volunteers and mentoring and collecting sponsors, plus eventually the rebellion. lots of the D2 headcanon i have is inspired by @/lorata but i defintely made a distinct effort to have my own stuff, cos where’s the fun in plagiarism -

aes for Asher’s Games:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Rowan Everdeen: (District Twelve, age 19)

Rowan will do anything to protect her family. This extends to going to Head Peacekeeper Cray on a cold winters night, charging the most she can get for her virginity. It extends to Reaping Day, when she steps out in front of the crowd and says “I volunteer as tribute” in the steadiest voice she can muster. It extends to clawing her way out of the Arena, bloody and exhausted, with blades in her hands and violence kept tucked behind her teeth. It extends further, to a simple ‘Yes, President Snow’ when he coldly, carefully implies her family might meet with an accident if she doesn’t play the good little Victor (and fuck the people who pay the Capitol for her company). It extends to joining the Rebellion, to looking President Coin directly in the eye and agreeing to be a Mockingjay, a symbol for the people to rally around.

- another everdeen kiddo! as the big sister, rowan volunteers for prim, and goes through the Games - she’s a healer and a hunter, and a decent enough actor that she can manage interviews and a camera presence, unlike katniss. rowan also pairs well with a minor au i have, where the reapings are spaced out over a week and official training is a longer, giving the capitol a nice, long buildup to get excited and place bets, etc., and giving the poor, underfed tributes from the outer districts a better chance, which makes for more interesting television and better Games -

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Adrasteia Crane: (The Capitol, age 28) Unlike her big brother, Adrasteia doesn’t want to be a Gamemaker. Instead, she wants to create clothes, artwork, to enrapture the Capitol. She wants to be a Games stylist. After years of design school, of working her way up the ranks, first a PA’s assistant, and then fetching and carrying for Twelve’s prep team, and then eventually on a prep team for the dull tributes from Six, Adrasteia Crane finally has what she wants - the position of stylist for District Three’s male tribute in 74th Hunger Games.

- tbh adrasteia is only seneca crane’s sister because i couldn’t think of a suitable last name for her lmao. i think i’d actually prefer her to be unattached to any major canon players. however, his death is a good motivation for her to join the rebellion, so we’ll see. she’s got a bit of the capitol fashion thing going too, with soft pink hair and diamond-effect skin on her face and shoulders -

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also bonus hunger games content: another oc, Sarsaparilla Verran, from District Eleven, fifteen and alone when she goes into the Games. An orphan, her siblings lost to the Community Home system years ago, her relatives dead or uncaring. So, Rilla is a wee lonely bab tbh. she did not want this, unlike most of my other hg ocs, and she’s not excited for weeks of murder. she just wants her family back, but since that isn’t possible, she’ll build a new family instead. and uuhhhhh, spoiler alert, she dies before she can have this ://///

and my hunger games aus - a canon divergence where katniss joins the careers instead of peeta, her desire to go home to her family outweighing her reactive hate for the concept of training/volunteering to kill other teens, and a fem!Haymitch au where she’s a little wiser to the dark side of the capitol before she commits acts of rebellion (she still rebels anyway tho, just smarter).

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Riverdale:

Cat Cooper: (middle child of Alice and Hal Cooper) Cat Cooper (17) is the black sheep of the Cooper family. Her piercings, brightly dyed hair and connections to the Southside Serpents make her the odd one out among her sisters and constantly at odds with Alice Cooper. Cat’s life is occupied with her Serpent friends, work at a local coffee shop, and training - martial arts, supplemented with cross country, gymnastics and swimming. Until her older sister is shipped off to places unknown and her baby sister starts getting caught up in murder investigation with the absent Serpent heir...

- haven’t decided between Catelyn or Catherine for Cat’s full name lmao. she used to be Kit, actually, but I changed it cos i prefer Kit to solely be my divergent oc (kit serafim). Cat is an ADHD disaster who loves her sisters and her friends and wants to get the hell out of Riverdale on a sports scholarship (she does either boxing or karate mainly, need to figure that bit out) -

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Georgie Andrews: (child of Mary and Fred Andrews)

Georgie likes soft drinks, cheerleading, and hanging out with the Blossom twins and Polly Cooper, their closest friends and a welcome distraction from their own problems. After Polly and Jason vanish, Georgie’s support system is almost gone, and they has to deal with everything they’ve been bottling up, just in time for Fred Andrews to get shot.

- also just angst ngl. so georgie’s gender is basically ???, they enjoy cheerleading and not much else. they spend half their time dealing with depression, by trying to ignore stressful/hard topics and focus on the good side of everything. this isn’t a great long-term coping mechanism and has the fun side effect of pissing of the people around him when she seems unable to be serious or empathetic to someone else's pain (bcs she’s too busy deflecting for the sake of her own fragile mental health), so it gets fun when fred is shot and archie starts getting in too deep with the lodges -

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Sera Thornstone: (parents ???) Southside Serpent. Going to the Riverdale Community College and running errands for FP Jones. And secretly meeting up with her Ghoulie lover down by the Sweetwater where nobody goes.

- everything about sera is vague and undecided lmao. but she has a ghoulie gf/bf/nbf? and they’re hiding that they were down by the river on the 4th of july, cos a serpent is an immediate suspect. going to community college to work on getting general credits before saving up for fancy school for law or journalism. the aes isn’t entirely accurate cos sera’s built from the remains of another serpent oc who i scrapped (she does have a baseball bat tho) -

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and honourable mentions to jen johnson and octavia blossom-murphy, my other riverdale ocs who actually have content, plus an in-development unnamed oc who gets adopted from the soqm by the Muggs family and growsup with Ethel. and my riverdale role reversal au, which i will never write but have some nice aesthetics for under the tag wip: bughead role reversal au.

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all my mini-aesthetics here are unsourced images/from pinterest. any similarities to other people or characters, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

alrighty that’s it. now i have to tag this behemoth argh

#ocapp #ashandrustediron ocs #ashandrustediron edits #i say edits #i mean neatly cropped screenshots #lmao #fandom: harry potter #fandom: the hunger games #fandom: a song of ice and fire #fandom: game of thrones #fandom: riverdale #ashandrustrediron writes #time to tag the ocs who will actually get content later #oc: rosienne lannister #oc: tamlen storm #tam actually has a fic outline unlike most of these other westerosi ocs lol #oc: ara lestrange #oc: asher #no last name bcs volunteers from two don't have last names #they belong to the capitol and their district #<- fun fact about that fic i guess #oc: rowan everdeen #oc: adrasteia crane #none of the riverdale ocs will get a tag bcs i already have riverdale oc fic im working on #long post #long post cw #oh and some warnings for the stuff brushed upon in the blurbs i guess #gender dysphoria #violence #child marriage

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