A marriage to a Targaryen prince is the highest honor a maiden can receive, unless she never wished to marry at all. When Lady Amara Allyrion is bound to Prince Maekar for the sake of the Targaryens' crumbling reputation, she is thrust into a court of silk, smiles, and hidden venom. Far from Dorne, she must learn to survive a marriage neither of them wanted, and a husband she has already managed to offend long before the vows were spoken.

Maekar Targaryen longs for touch, like a starved man, reaching out, the fingertips brushing against the solace of his life only to slip by away every time he gets close enough. Every time his fingers brush close enough to the temptation of his desires, the cold reality returns. That it is his niece, Baelor's daughter. The forbidden fruit. His forbidden fruit and his doom, that he knows he should not long for as only a decade ago she was a little girl, crawling into his lap, begging for stories. And yet, the sin grows within consuming his heart, forcing every glare of anger that was meant to be at the fate for cursing him like so, at those suitors who dare to glance upon what he deems as his. His niece.

Set in the years before the events of A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms, this story follows Rhaella Targaryen, a quiet and distant daughter of Maekar Targaryen, whose fragile mind bears the same affliction that once plagued his brother. Kept close and hidden from a world she does not fully understand, her condition is managed, contained-and never spoken of. But in trying to protect her from the fate that claimed his kin, Maekar's careful watch begins to take a darker shape. As silence grows heavier than any outburst, the line between duty and devotion only seem to blur. In a house where blood remembers, some inheritances cannot be outrun. (This fanfic will loosely follow the original timeline/plot of the franchise, however not everything will be true to the story and i will change a few things)

Rosalie Tyrell lives in a world where everything has already been decided for her. Born the daughter of Leo Tyrell and named for the roses of her house, she was raised on one promise: that she would one day marry for love. But promises mean little in the game of crowns, and when the chance comes for House Tyrell to bind itself to the royal family, Rosalie is betrothed to Daeron Targaryen. Beautiful, sharp-tongued, and far from the obedient lady everyone expects her to be, Rosalie refuses to play the role quietly. She resents the court, despises the humiliation brought by Daeron's reckless habits, and refuses to pretend she is grateful for a life she never chose.

{~AKOTSK / Fanfic / ASOIAF~} Two Dornish women had once vowed to never leave each other behind. That promise was kept throughout their whole lifetime, as the two had stepped hand in hand to board the ship for the journey to Westeros. One of the pair was no other than Princess Myriah Martell, whose marriage to King Daeron Targaryen Il was set to unite those of Dorne & Westeros for the good of the realm. Janiya Jordayne would follow her closest friend Myriah Martell to Kingslanding upon her request and accompany the Princess at court as one of her Ladies in waiting. During her time in the Keep Janiya never expected to would find herself in love with a man from Westeros, though a second son of The Reach Ser Laurus Tyrell had proven her wrong. The year 176 ac was the first time both mothers were with child during the same time, the fourth borns were the last children both mother's would carry. While both women would deliver healthy babes only one of the mothers would live to see those two children meet. Ser Laurus Tyrell's life had been taken during one of the many hunting events he participated in, leaving the children of the young couple orphaned. Following her father's death a Dragon sigil letter was sent to her uncle Lord Leo Tyrell of The Reach ordering Mariella was to be taken to the capital as a 'ward' to house Targaryen. Mariella Tyrell's honey hued eyes did not linger on the heir to the iron throne, the Tyrell's sights had found their own way to King Daeron's youngest son Prince Maekar as he appeared far more interesting to Mara. While Maekar Targaryen's vivid violet eyes had stared back at Mariella Tyrell that day, neither of the pair had ever expected in years to come just the extent of what their stolen glances would carry. The love, hate and envy they had once shared, would lead to both sharing The Daunting Desire for one another. (Pre AKOTSK) (OC x Maekar Targaryen 💌)

Deria Martell, Maekar and Baelor's cousin, was a striking figure of her age. Her beauty drew many admirers, and more than one noble lord sought the hand of King Daeron's II niece. Yet he loved his foster daughter dearly and never sought to impose his will upon her. The girl's heart, as was oft whispered at court, belonged to but one of the four brothers-the coldest, harshest, and most withdrawn among them. The story of her relationship with Prince Maekar was a tangled and thorny one, and in time gave rise to countless tales, half-truths, and legends.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖙𝖘 " my love, are you the devil? I would worship you instead of him . " ׂ╰┈➤ asoiaf fan fiction ׂ╰┈➤ maegor targaryen x fem!oc ׂ╰┈➤ based off 'fire and blood' ׂ╰┈➤ I DON'T OWN ASOIAF !

Following the loss of his wife, Dyanna Dayne, Prince Maekar has lived a life of cold solitude, and unending duty for his children. His life is meticulously crafted to fill the void Dyanna left, with the burdens of court politics, and war. Lady Ryelle Arryn, daughter of the Lord of the Vale, was one of girls chosen from across the realm, to accompany Kiera of Tyrosh as ladies-in-waiting, upon her arrival in King's Landing. Known for her brunette locks, often cascading in waves down her back, and her soft blue eyes; Ryelle was quiet, and tender hearted. Not a lady to seek an advantageous marriage, but one who sought to remain by Kiera's side. The political landscape of Westeros, however, had other plans. With the dormant threat of the Blackfyres haunting the throne, and the Free Cities growing brazen once more, the Vale forged a marriage of convenience with the Crown, thrusting Ryelle from the shadows unto Maekar's side, and the role of Princess of Summerhall. An army in exchange for a union between Dove and Avil. Influence in the East, Maekar would buy through his young wife. For her mother, Lady Taerra, hailed from the powerful house of Haen in Pentos. What begins as a dutiful arrangement between a hardened prince and his bride evolves into a grueling, slow-burn seduction of both mind and body. Maekar will have to learn to navigate the simmering tensions of his brother's regency, and his fear of betraying Dyanna's memory. While Ryella must find her footing at court, and in her husband's bed.

She was born of two Targaryens , her father a king, her mother a princess who had been a queen in all but name, locked away by a holy man who feared what she carried in her blood. She inherited their silver hair, their violet eyes, their particular talent for surviving things that should have broken them. He was born fourth. Overlooked. Too much of everything the court didn't want and not enough of anything it did. They legitimised her with a dying king's breath and a name that tasted like iron. She took it. She wore it. She learned to carry it quietly, the way you carried things too heavy to put down. The Red Keep held them both, corridors and banquets and tournaments and gardens at night. A thing that had no name because neither of them would give it one. The world was already fracturing. She felt it sometimes, in the way her brother laughed too easily at things that weren't funny. He felt it in the way the court watched Daemon and smiled too carefully. Neither of them said it out loud. Some silences are louder than anything. Some losses happen before the dying. Some things end before the war. This is one of them. All characters and the world of A Song of Ice and Fire belong to George R.R. Martin. No copyright infringement is intended. Daelys Blackfyre is an original character created for this story. This is a work of fan fiction written purely for love of the source material.

Aelena never chose him. Bound by duty to Baelor Targaryen, a man older, distant, and already tied to a life before her, she enters a marriage neither of them truly wanted. But in the quiet moments between obligation and expectation, something unexpected begins to grow something as dangerous as it is undeniable..