━━━━ aegon targaryen ii.
she is not her father's daughter and he is not the prince that was promised. and with all the chaos brought by the dance started by their family, there is always each other.
"My father could not love, but he believed he could, and that must be enough, because perhaps half the world feels that way. He believed he loved me, but I could tell him how untrue that was, I could list for him the number of times he had placed me squarely within the jaws of death; I could list for him the number of times he had failed to be a father to me, his motherless child, while on his way to becoming a man of this world. He loved, he loved; he loved himself. It is perhaps the way of all men."
-- Jamaica Kincaid; The Autobiography of My Mother
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[aesira]
It's like her mother all over again; but instead of ashes, the dead return to the sea.
Valyrian Houses have been a favourite thing to read for Aesira when she was young—mighty dragons bigger than the ones they have today, fleets that can span an ocean, and strongholds that created a civilization worthy of being associated with ancient magic. One of them is the Velaryons, a member of the remaining Valyrian bloodlines surviving the Doom of Valyria all those years ago. Considered to be weaker than the other families from whence they came, the Velaryons weren't dragonriders, except for the times they married into the Targaryens after the Doom. Aesira finds it fascinating that despite their connections with the dragonlords of their time, the Velaryons preserved their culture of honouring the sea and its waters, including sending off their loved ones to be guided by their Merling King.
Upon the news of Lady Laena Velaryon's death, Aesira often finds herself wide-eyed on her bed.
Just like Mother, the late dragonrider of Vhagar died of childbirth complications. A sombre air covers the entire Keep—another one has joined their ancestors and it has only been ten years since the continuous deaths of the late Queen Aemma and her sister, Lady Aellara, both of which suffered the same fate as Lady Laena. Maybe the bloodline of the Targaryens are cursed, maybe they indulge too much on fucking their own flesh and blood that the gods punish them for it by snapping the strings of their lifeline. The courtiers never voice these thoughts out loud but Aesira can read them from their faces. Her daily meetings with the Ladies warded in the castle takes another turn because they look at her differently now. First, her aunt, next, her mother, and now, the new wife of her rogue father. They aren't wrong; there has been an accumulated history of Targaryen women succumbing to death's embrace on the birthing bed.
