They call my uncle the Anvil. They call my betrothed the Brightflame. They call my brother the Young Prince. They do not know what to call me. I am Visenya of House Targaryen-seventeen years of age, only daughter of Prince Baelor Breakspear and Princess Jena, sister to Valarr, granddaughter to King Daeron the Good. Where my father and brother wear their brown Dornish blood plainly in their dark hair-Valarr marked with that curious white streak behind his right ear-I bear the old Valyrian look without apology. Silver-white hair. Storm-grey eyes. The blood of the dragon written clear as flame. My father, Baelor Targaryen, is heir to the Iron Throne. My uncle, Maekar Targaryen, broods at Summerhall with his sons-Daeron the Dreamer, Aerion Brightflame, Aemon the upcoming maester, and little Aegon. My brother Valarr stands one heartbeat away from being Prince of Dragonstone. And I- I am promised to Aerion Targaryen. Promised since I was ten. The realm sees it as a strength-binding the lines of Baelor and Maekar closer still. Fire braided into fire. But the court whispers. They always whisper. They whisper of Aerion's cruelty. They whisper of Daeron's dreams. They whisper of Maekar's temper. They whisper of my father's mercy being mistaken for weakness. And soon, they will whisper of Ashford. The great tourney at Ashford Meadow will draw every knight with a scrap of pride and every lord with a hunger for spectacle. Hedge knights seeking glory. Princes seeking dominance. The smallfolk seeking distraction. My father says it is a celebration of peace beneath King Daeron's wise rule. My uncle says tourneys breed folly. My betrothed says he will make them kneel. I have seen how Aerion smiles when he speaks of kneeling. I do not yet know that I will meet Ser Duncan the Tall. I do not yet know that little Aegon-Egg-will follow him. I do not yet know that a single act of cruelty beneath a bright tourney sun will fracture our family before the eyes of the realm.

Born to rule. Forged in war. Destined to fall. She was the first daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen, the undisputed heir to the Iron Throne. A dragon's fire burned fiercely in her veins, and the realm whispered of the warrior queen she was always meant to become. She loved a prince who would one day betray her trust, and she was promised to a man of ice and honor-Lord Cregan Stark. But in the deadly game of thrones, love is an unforgivable weakness, and duty is a lifelong cage. When the Dance of the Dragons erupts into flame, Valenya does not hide behind her brothers; she flies beside them. Blade in hand, dragon in the sky, she intends to carve her name into history with fire and blood. She will burn for her family, for her mother's stolen birthright, and for the crown that was once promised to her name. But the ashes of war change everything. Faced with a choice between a blood-soaked throne in the south or the quiet winter of the north, Valenya must decide where her true allegiance lies. Can a dragon truly rule from the walls of Winterfell, or will she lay down her crown to save the last of her family? What is a crown worth, when all it brings is ruin? ─── ✧ ─── [ cregan stark x fem!oc ] [ status: ongoing ] [ a dance of the dragons fanfiction ]

Targaryen. A name that smallfolk and highborn feared. A name that represented and symbolized dragons. Every time a Targaryen is born. The Gods flip a coin as the world holds its breath. A daughter was born, white hair, cunning purple eyes and pale skin. Just like her mother and father. She was a true Targaryen. The true heir to the throne, a heir that everyone would respect. She would surpass her mother and father combined. She was unique, a treasure. But as the throne was giving to the unrightful heir of the seven kingdoms. Vaelyra Targaryen seeks help from her mothers demand as she search's for help along with her brothers. But, what Vaelyra doesn't know is that she finds two very handsome men that help her claim her birthright. Aenar Celtalar and Valar Celator help the young princess out. One even falling in love with her. What happens when Vaelyra goes back home with Aenar and Valar? OC x OC -Warning this is just a fanfic, none of this is real. I came up with the ideas by myself. All rights go to the creator of House of the Dragon. Along with the House of the Dragon characters. -This book may mention the following: ~Gore ~Blood ~Death ~Depression ~Mature Language -Please comment! I love if you give ideas and I love reading my followers/readers thoughts! It gives me the courage to write more and to continue my stories. -Also, Vaelyra is the aftermath of Daemon not leaving the Whore House. Him and Rhaenyra actually done it and Vaelyra is the after math. Rhaenyra was 21 at that time not 17. I had to age her and Daemon up just a tad to make the story line! But other than that! Enjoy! -Enjoy the story!

This is inspired by @vermaxfire on Tiktok! Story idea is credited to her! One prince died. One queen defied death. One spell refused to let go. The Dance of the Dragons ended in fire and blood, but Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen refuses to surrender her firstborn son. When Prince Jacaerys Velaryon is returned to Dragonstone after his death at sea, grief drives her to a desperate act forbidden even by Valyrian sorcerers. Through ancient blood magic, she attempts to pull him back from the realm of the dead. The ritual fails. Or so everyone believes. Instead of resurrection, Jacaerys is trapped in an enchanted sleep beneath Dragonstone-a prince suspended between life and death, untouched by time as kingdoms rise, dynasties fall, and the world forgets his name. One hundred and seventy years later, the last Targaryen crosses the Narrow Sea. Drawn to Dragonstone by dreams she cannot explain, Daenerys Stormborn awakens the ancient magic buried within the island... and with it, the sleeping prince from a forgotten age. Jacaerys opens his eyes expecting to find his mother, his family, and a kingdom at war. Instead, he awakens to a broken dynasty, a house reduced to legend, and a young queen who carries the blood of the dragon-and the burden of restoring it. As past and present collide, secrets buried for nearly two centuries emerge from Dragonstone's depths. The magic that preserved Jacaerys was never truly finished, and the force that answered Rhaenyra's desperate plea has been waiting all this time to collect its price. To save the future, they must first confront the ghosts of the past. Because some dragons never truly die-they only wait to awaken.

"WHATEVER OUR SOULS ARE MADE OF, HIS AND MINE ARE THE SAME." - Wuthering Heights, Emily Brontë [FEM!OCxAerionTargaryen]

They taught her to be a lady. Her father taught her to kill. At Ashford, a mystery knight emerges-brutal, relentless, unknown. Aerion Brightflame craves what he cannot name. A lady's defiance. A warrior's violence. Valarr Targaryen offers devotion to a woman hiding a blade behind her smile. When the truth bleeds through, the game changes. Some crowns are given. Some are taken. Hers will be earned in blood and steel.

Fanfiction. All rights go to HBO AND GRRM. I OWN NOTHING. I want to make the story of the dance of the dragons favor Lucerys Velaryon, were he gets the iron throne. hope you enjoy.

They whisper of Prince Aerion Brightflame-the man who thinks himself a dragon. They say he cannot be tamed...except, perhaps, Vaelyra Velaryon. A girl of Old Valyria. And if that is true-then devotion is not a gift. It is a weapon. || Aerion Targaryen X OC ||

House Myrralis is a powerful and mysterious Valyrian family with a deep connection to magic, alchemy, and the forging of Valyrian steel. Unlike most Valyrian houses, which focused on dragons and conquest, the Myrralis were scholars, sorcerers, and master smiths. Their ancestors, known as "The Sages of Valyria," were famed for their vast knowledge and advancements in arcane arts. The Myrralis are recognizable by their striking red eyes and silver hair, marking their Valyrian heritage. Their house words, "Eternal knowledge. True power." reflect their belief that wisdom and mastery of magic are the ultimate sources of strength. Their ancestral home is the Dark Fortress on Umbria Island, a remote and fog-covered place in the Narrow Sea. Legends surround the island, including rumors of supernatural guardians-spectral figures with glowing eyes that protect the Myrralis' secrets. I got the idea of house Myrralis from @mccnspace on TikTok.

Aemyra Velaryon, the dark dreamer made of fire and blood. The daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and the heir to the Iron Throne is sent to the North where all warmth is forgotten. She is sent with the mission to raise an army to rise up against the Greens and the Usurper King Aegon. While doing so she is getting to know the Wolf in the North, Lord Cregan Stark who she grows very fond of. All her life shes known fire, but she soon realizes not all dragons are made of fire, some are born from flames of ice. Together they will write the song of Ice & Fire. fem oc x cregan stark takes place during Dance of Dragons This fanfic is based on the show owned by HBO: House of The Dragon note: the images and gifs used in this book do not belong to me! i do not claim the images as my work i just use them as visuals for my story<3