Rhaella Targaryen was born in Pentos in 117AC. She is the youngest daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Lady Laena Velaryon.
The strange one, they called her. And strange indeed she was.
Black OC x Aemond Targaryen(mainly)
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𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘.He had slain the bastard, involuntarily, to his dismay. Vhagar had disobeyed him, but he supposed dragons would act however they pleased in the end.
Nevertheless, regret bubbled inside him like a vile poison, he would follow suit in the way of his mount. Aemond would do as he pleased.
He could recall the shouts of his mother, condemning him for the act. It could have been amusing, at one time. The entirety of the realm now viewed him as a kinslayer.
It made him feel important, establishing himself as one not to be trifled with. Privately, he could admit there was a certain unplaceable emptiness.
Aegon had summoned Aemond to a council meeting to discuss matters that did not particularly interest him. He had already fashioned his own plans, much and more cunning than whatever his halfwit brother could produce.
His mother was not fond of his presence at the table, that much was clear. Aemond remained composed as the coin in his hand flitted between his fingers.
"The Riverlords can declare for me, lest they meet Sunfyre and Vhagar," Aegon stated flippantly. It annoyed Aemond, his brothers' unseriousness.
Establishing claim in Harrenhal was his own idea, an obvious one at that. All other lords in the surrounding area would bend the knee and follow suit.
"Rhaenyra has dragons." Alicent states.
"Mine are bigger." Aegon smirks.
Aemond wished to scoff at his brother's words. Vhagar was his. He alone mounted the biggest dragon. In some wicked irony, he is restrained to guard Kings Landing against attacks.
'Have you maintained your grip on my mother's dragon?' Aemond recalled the voice of Rhaella. At that time, it must have been a bitter jab for something she lacked. But her compelling voice that polluted his mind was almost mocking him.
It was not a possibility that Rhaella could have known Vhagar would do such a thing.
Aemond's eye flitted at the memory of her. Surely Rhaella had since heard the news by now. He longed to see her; Rhaella would be beyond furious with him, she would glare at him with those harsh eyes he adored terribly.
Aemond's grip on the coin tightened as he listened to the blabber of the counsel continue on.
His own plans would be heard, he would make sure of it.
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The map was lit by candlelight as Aemond plotted out his own war in the company of Ser Criston Cole. They had bonded over the death of the strong bastard. Cole assured him it was necessary. Aemond would not be remiss to recognize the personal conviction in the knight's tone.
