"Aerion, Valarr..." Vaella's face contorted with disgust at the words spoken by her newfound friend. "What? They're both quite handsome." Vaella shook her head, grimacing. "What is it you imply my Lady?" "You're meant to marry one... aren't you, but you want both?" Vaella bit her cheek, her eyes ablaze. "Hold your tongue." - No ai, no chat ew ew, enjoy

when lord lyonel baratheon hosted a tourney at storms end in honor of his only daughters seventeenth nameday, the great houses of westeros assembled at the ancestral seat of house baratheon. even the house of the dragon had made the journey from the crownlands to here - gracing the tourney not only with the presence of the heir, prince baelor, but king daeron himself. an event worthy of the historybooks, just as lord baratheon intended - what had not been on his mind was the fact that his beloved daughter, the storms doe, had caught the eye of a dragon.

Deamyra was not raised to inherit power. She was raised to survive it. In a court where daughters are bargaining tools and affection is a liability, she understands one truth above all: safety is never given - it is secured. Valarr Targaryen is not the most charming of princes. He is not reckless. He is not easily swayed. But he is steady. In a world of unpredictable men and burning tempers, Valarr is restraint. Discipline. Protection forged in black steel. He does not promise romance - he promises order. And to Deamyra, order is worth more than poetry. She does not dream of fairy tales. She dreams of permanence. Of a place no one can remove her from. If becoming his wife means safety, she will become indispensable. If bearing his child means security, she will not hesitate. If loving him makes it easier to stay - she may allow herself that luxury. Because in the game of dragons, love is uncertain. But protection - protection can be chosen. And Deamyra has chosen.

"A rose in a world of thorns. Mirielle Tyrell steps into the Ashford Meadow, where ambition, secrets, and destiny collide. No one knew where this would lead her to." A KNIGHT OF THE SEVEN KINGDOM VALARR TARGARYEN X FEM!OC (SLOW BURN)

Shaera Rivers was born from the union of the Great Bastards. Daughter of the two most dangerous shadows in Westeros, Bloodraven and Shiera Seastar. Granddaughter of King Aegon Targaryen the Unworthy, Lady Melissa Blackwood, and Serenei of Lys. Valarr Targaryen was the heir's heir, the golden prince of his age, tethered by honor to a crown he was born to protect. And Shaera Rivers was the bastard's bastard. No matter how noble her lineage appeared, her roots were rotten with the shame of her birth. Their love was a bond that no king would sanction and no realm would ever tolerate. ~ "Who is that?" Kiera asked, her voice tighter than she intended. Lady Ellyn's lips curved slightly. "That is her.. Prince Valarr's beloved." The word struck like a stone. "Beloved?" "Indeed." Ellyn's eyes followed Shaera's hands as the shears moved with quiet precision. "When Valarr looks at her, he sees flowers, lilies, roses, something rare and delicate. But watch closely my dear." Her voice dropped to a velvet whisper. "He sees blossoms... while her hands close only around poisonous weeds." Kiera hesitated. "She looks... fragile. Almost ethereal." "So does frost." Ellyn murmured. "Right before it kills the harvest." Her voice lowered into a silken warning. "Do not let the silver hair deceive you. Beneath that glow is a girl who climbed into a prince's heart using tricks no septa would ever teach. They say... she has enchanted him." Her gaze slid back to Kiera, sharp and knowing. "If I were you.." She said softly. "I'd ensure Prince Valarr remembers the difference between a highborn rose and a common weed before she sows any more seeds in his head..."

Prince Valarr Targaryen, eldest son of Baelor Targaryen, was born to inherit more than a name-he was born to inherit expectation. Quiet, disciplined, and solemn beyond his years, Valarr carries the weight of legacy with steady grace. Smaller and finer-boned than his father yet bearing the same unshakable honor, he has always understood that duty comes before desire, and the realm before the self. Princess Valaena Targaryen, the only daughter of Baelor and Jena Dondarrion, is the light of the court-radiant, warm, and beloved. With violet eyes, pale skin, and dark hair streaked with platinum gold, she embodies the beauty of Old Valyria, yet it is her kindness that truly captivates. Gentle yet quietly resilient, she brings laughter to stone halls and softness to hardened hearts. From the moment she was born, Valarr has been her shield, and Valaena his heart. Bound by loss after their mother's passing, the siblings grow inseparable-his solemn strength balancing her bright spirit. She believes without question that her brother will always protect her. He believes without hesitation that she is worth protecting at any cost. But as they grow older beneath the banners of House Targaryen, the world begins to close in. The Iron Throne demands sacrifice. Alliances must be forged. Marriages must be arranged. And heirs cannot afford weakness-least of all affection that may be seen as such. In a realm ruled by fire and blood, where legacy is heavier than love, will the bond between the heir and the princess remain unbreakable? Or will the very crown Valarr is destined to wear demand a price too great for even a dragon's heart to bear? Valarr Targaryen x Princess Valaena Targaryen All characters belong to George R. R. Martin except for original elements created in this story.

To save a realm and the princes within it. Irina was never meant to live the story until Westeros took her. Reborn into a place she was never meant to exist and with a name that replaces another. Armed with her knowledge and a book that rewrites itself with every choice she makes, she realizes she has been given a purpose: to change the fate of a kingdom written in tragedy. To stop Baelor Breakspear's death. Prince Valarr, golden and composed, who looks at her as though she belongs beside him. And another, Prince Aerion, who remembers the moment she dared to touch him. Irina was brought to Westeros to fix a story. And the more events she changed, the less the world follows what she knows.

In the years after the Blackfyre Rebellion, when dragons lived only in memory and the realm stood fragile beneath the Targaryen crown, Princess Valena the bone eyed dreamer and daughter of Prince Maekar and Dyanna Dayne is sent north to outrun the visions that haunt her sleep. Hardened by winter, the old gods and the new, she returns south for the Tourney at Ashford Meadows, where prophecy, politics, and forgotten bonds are rekindled. But dragon dreams are seldom merciful, and some fires are not meant to be quenched. Valarr Targaryen x femOC

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ " my moon, my man " Princess Gevinessa Targaryen, once known for her wild spirit and sharp tongue, has spent her life despising Prince Valarr Targaryen, the solemn, insufferable heir she could never outwit as a child. When an arranged betrothal binds them together, she is forced to confront not only her resentment, but the unsettling realization that the line between love and hate is far thinner than she ever imagined. As ancient Valyrian rites, family expectations, and her own stubborn pride collide, Nessa must decide whether the boy she once tormented is truly her cage... or something far more dangerous to her heart.

In a dynasty forged in conquest, prophecy, and blood, Aelora and Valarr find something dangerously rare: tenderness. From Summerhall to King's Landing, their story unfolds through stolen glances, courtly splendor, political betrothals, and devastating grief. A tragic Targaryen romance about first love, fragile happiness, and the cruel cost of losing it. 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 𝐗 𝐎𝐂 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍