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𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ─ WRTTEN BY A DREAMER 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 ❝ i was in my 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬 ❞
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❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 a babe is a magnificent thing. So pure and innocent. But it could never survive so long within a faith forgotten land like Westeros. But with the way my mother raised me and my siblings, that mind state held shorter for us. From the age of two she had begun telling us of how our sisters children were 'bastards' before we even knew what the word 'bastard' had meant.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐎𝐅 a woman is a scornful thing. My mother, Alicent Hightower, was a perfect example. Her jealousy of my half-sister, Rhaenyra Targaryen, drew her to hate and judgment. The ghost of hatefulness replacing her solemn face whenever she would pass the silver haired woman or her children.
𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 the house she was married into, and so she etched that resentment onto her children. Always dressing us in Hightower green. But that green couldn't change the purple of our eyes, or the silver of our manes, nor the spelling of our last name.
𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃, Targaryens had 'queer' customs, due to the long line of incest the bloodline was known for. God's, if only she had known.
𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐌𝐘 sweet, sweet Helaena. She did not deserve to suffer the casualties of war. Yet she did. And I was there to hold her through it. But it wasn't enough. And so we witnessed the fire that lead to the 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘. ❞
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