TO LOVE A KING || Maegor II Targaryen [SLOW UPDATES]

TO LOVE A KING || MAEGOR II TARGARYEN

The bells of King’s Landing tolled with a hollow, mournful resonance as a new king ascended the throne, his rule a dark omen for the city. This was no keen, peaceful, or conciliatory monarch, he was a tyrant, crueler than his namesake, and the city held its breath, bracing for the storm that would surely follow.

King Viserys was dead. The realm mourned, but grief quickly turned to dread. With his passing came the coronation of his younger brother, Maegor II Targaryen, second of his name.

He was crowned beneath the blood-red banners of House Targaryen, seated upon the Iron Throne, his black-scaled dragon looming above the Red Keep like a shadow cast by the gods themselves.

They called him Maegor the Ruthless, Maegor the Vicious, Maegor the Unforgiving. He was Maegor the Terrible, Maegor the Bloodthirsty, and Maegor the Butcher.

Some whispered him as Maegor the Merciless, for none could escape his wrath, while others dared to call him Maegor the Tyrant, for his reign was defined by iron-fisted control.

He was Maegor the beast, a monster feared by friend and foe alike, and Maegor the Despoiler, for he tore apart houses and kingdoms with a single order. His name was synonymous with destruction, and his legacy, one of endless suffering, and with good reason.

Where his predecessors ruled with diplomacy and compromise, Maegor ruled with fire and fear. At his mere presence, courtiers fell silent, lords bent the knee, and the Faith dared not whisper dissent. His reign would not be one of mercy.

His first act as king was neither a decree nor a celebration, it was an execution. Seven noblemen knelt before him, accused of treason and sedition. Their tongues had wagged too freely, questioning his legitimacy.

Before their families could beg for clemency, Maegor drew Blackfyre, his father’s sword, and took their heads himself.
The message was clear: There would be no rebellion. No challenge. No disloyalty.

His name alone stirred dread. The lords of Westeros whispered of his iron will, of how neither corruption nor defiance could rise beneath his rule. Those who dared to stand against him found their heads adorning the walls of the Red Keep.

Yet even the most ruthless of kings were not impervious to fate.

For all his might, there was one man in all the world who knew him beyond the cruelty, beyond the fire and steel, Orys II Baratheon, the only friend Maegor had ever kept.

Orys, with his easy laughter and boundless loyalty, had stood by his side through every battle, every conquest, every dark hour. Some whispered their bond was so unbreakable it bordered on unnatural. Others claimed even the gods could not part them.

But not even Orys could temper Maegor’s hunger for control.

Despite his tyrannical nature, Maegor held a peculiar affection for his niece Rhaenyra and a deep, though twisted, bond with his brother Daemon. Yet even they knew better than to cross him, for Maegor could shift from moments of surprising kindness to a terrifying devil in the blink of an eye.