"A greater woman wouldn't beg, but I looked to the sky and said: Please I've been on my knees, change the prophecy, don't want money, just someone who wants my company. Let it once be me. Who do I have to speak to, about if they can redo the prophecy?" Lyanne Arryn came to court with no expectations, no hopes, no story of her own to tell. Brought to King's Landing by her father, the Hand of King Daeron, she was little more than a quiet child set adrift in a world too vast and too sharp for her. Then she met Prince Baelor. What began as a friendship neither of them could name, turned at last into something deeper. A love, innocent and gentle. But the world was not made for such things and even the gentlest of bonds may be torn apart. The gods often weave different fates for those who dare to love. Fates that divide, that harden hearts, that turn what once was tender into something far more bitter. Hate. || Baelor Targaryen/Fem OC

"But there is one thing we desire more than each other," she whispered. Her lips brushed his, barely a touch, light as breath. A provocation. "Power." Eleanor Tyrell was not kind. No one ever dared to question that and one had to be a fool to see gentleness where there was none at all. She did not conceal her cruelty, nor her pride. In fact, she thought it suited her. When Prince Maekar tried to wed his son Aerion in a desperate attempt to tame him, Lord Leo Tyrell didn't hesitate to secure that match for his own daughter, hoping it would tame her just the same. It didn't. Aerion and Eleanor were like flame to flame, igniting a wildfire, leaving nothing but destruction in their way. A match made in hell. The hunger for power ignited something inside of them, consuming both until there was nothing left of them anymore. Just death. || Aerion Targaryen X OC (A little Daeron) ||

Naela Blackfyre is her mother's last hope. After the Blackfyre Rebellion shattered their house's name, Rohanne stops at nothing to return her family from exile in Essos to the courts of Westeros. When fourteen-year-old Naela is sent to serve the queen as a lady, it is more than an honor, it is a calculated step toward redemption, cautiously supported by the mercy of King Daeron. But court is no place for a girl who carries the weight of a fallen family. Isolated and burdened by expectation, Naela finds solace in one man: Valarr Targaryen. Their friendship soon deepens into a dangerous kind of forbidden love, unyielding and all-consuming. A love that could mend a broken legacy or destroy them both. || Valarr Targaryen x FemaleOC ||

❝my king, as was always meant to be...❞ The year 190 AC, six years into the reign of King Daeron II, six years since the mess King Aegon the Unworthy had left behind. Six years since the Good King had cleaned up the realm with the best of his abilities. It was also time for his son, his heir to find himself a bride. A bride that would not only ensure the strength of the Targaryen Legacy, but ensure the ever changing favors of Lords and Ladies remain on their side, whatever means necessary.

Rhae stands where the world feared to tread. Aerion kneels only to her, loving her with teeth and fire, willing to slaughter anyone who dares stand between them.

They call Lady Mirella cold. She does not smile for court, does not flatter, does not pretend. In a world that rewards softness, she chooses restraint. She loves fiercely, disciplines sharply, and refuses to perform for men who mistake silence for weakness. But as her children grow into legends - and something darker - Mirella learns that control is an illusion, and fire does not care how steady your hands are. Power has never been controlled.