Lucerystargaryen cerita

In House Targaryen, blood is law - and silence is survival. Vaella Waters is born a bastard and raised in the cracks of the capital, where princes sin and never look back. She grows among lies whispered in the dark, learning early that dragons do not only breathe fire - they destroy quietly. As the realm inches toward war, Vaella's blood draws her closer to those who would ruin her or claim her. In a world ruled by ambition and cruelty, the most dangerous truths are never spoken aloud.

Baelor Breakspear died beneath a summer sky, struck down in a tourney meant to celebrate peace. The realm would remember a noble end. A prince lost to honor, a future king undone by a single blow. Songs would make it beautiful. History would make it clean. He expected darkness. Instead, he woke to dragons. Salt wind and smoke filled the air as black cliffs rose from a restless sea, living wings splitting the sky above him. Not bones. Not legend. But fire made flesh. A silver-haired princess stood in mourning at the edge of it all. In his time, Rhaenyra Targaryen was a cautionary tale written in ash, the queen whose war destroyed the dragons. Here, she still had a choice, and so did he. Baelor knew how her story ended. He also understood that if he changed it, the future that bore his name, his late wife, his sons and his blood might vanish entirely. So the question becomes: was he sent back to witness the Dance... or to end it? And if saving her means erasing himself, how much of history is he willing to let burn?

Prince Baelor Breakspear should have died beneath a summer sky. The realm witnessed the blow, the healers named it survival, and life continued as though nothing had changed. Though to Baelor, the world no longer felt entirely his own. Dragons still existed, though only a chosen few could claim them, and Vermithor answered to him as if he always had. At court stood Rhaenyra Targaryen, his wife and his princess, a woman he knew by name but not by memory, whose devotion carried the quiet desperation of someone who had already mourned him once. They said the injury had left him confused. She said he only needed time to remember. But the longer Baelor lived within this life, the more reality resisted explanation: familiar histories felt unfinished, truths lingered behind careful silences, and Rhaenyra loved him with a certainty that both comforted and disarmed him. Somewhere between duty and tenderness, affection began to grow into something neither of them had expected to find again. If this had always been his life, why did it feel borrowed? And when the truth behind his survival finally came to light, would devotion be enough to forgive what had been sacrificed to keep him here?

A letter meant for a son was lost in a storm and delivered instead to a princess a century in the past. What should have been ink and courtesy became something far more dangerous: a golden-eyed raven that slipped between lifetimes, carrying words across a hundred years of war and waiting. Prince Baelor Breakspear knew her only from history; a queen remembered in ash, blamed for a Dance that shattered dragons and scarred the realm beyond repair. Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen had never heard his name. And yet they had dreamed of one another long before the first letter arrived. Not in clear visions, but in fragments: a helm split beneath a summer sky, a dragon's shadow over black water, fire in the throat and blood on the grass, a hand reaching through smoke toward someone they could not see. They saw pieces of each other's lives, and pieces of each other's deaths, but never enough to understand the shape of the ending. Not until ink became confession. Not until loneliness deepened into love. Not until the truth of their fates lay bare between them, terrible and undeniable. Some loves had been written in the stars. But how could two souls bound by dragon dreams survive a century that refused to hold them at the same time? And if saving the other meant unraveling the future itself... which of them would dare to break the clockwork of history first?

Viserra Targaryen was 13 when her mother died, she was 14 when Alicent became her step mother and fifteen when she became heir to the iron throne.

"Vɪsᴇᴍᴏʀʏs ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ Fɪʀsᴛ ᴏғ ʜɪs ɴᴀᴍᴇ" Mᴀʟᴇ Tᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ ᴏᴄ x Jᴀᴄᴇʀʏs Tᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ Tʜᴇ ᴇʟᴅᴇsᴛ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴʟʏ sᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴅᴀᴇᴍᴏɴ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴀᴇɴᴀ ᴠᴇʟᴀʀʏᴏɴ. Vɪsᴇᴍᴏʀʏs Tᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴏғ ʜɪs ɴᴀᴍᴇ, ʙᴏʀɴ 116 ᴀ.ᴄ. ɴᴏᴛ ᴏғ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴜʟ ᴏғ ᴏɴᴇ, ᴄʜɪʟᴅ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴘʀᴏᴘʜᴇᴄʏ, ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ᴛᴏᴜɴɢᴇ ᴅᴏᴠᴀʜᴋɪɴɴ; ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴʙᴏʀɴ. Sᴀɪᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɪɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇs ᴏғ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ɴᴇᴇᴅ. Wɪᴛʜ sᴜᴄʜ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ɪɴ ʜᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ's ʟɪғᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴏғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ ʙᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴀʀᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢɪɴɢ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴍᴏʀᴇ sᴏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ғᴀʟʟs ᴅᴇᴇᴘʟʏ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴊᴀᴄᴇʀʏs ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ, ғɪʀsᴛʙᴏʀɴ Sᴏɴ ᴏғ ǫᴜᴇᴇɴ ʀʜᴀᴇɴʏʀᴀ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ, sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ɪɴ ʟɪɴᴇ ᴛᴏ ɪɴʜᴇʀɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɪʀᴏɴ ᴛʜʀᴏɴᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴀʀᴇ ʜᴇɪʀ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ Tᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅʟɪɴᴇ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴠɪsᴇᴍᴏʀʏs. Sᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪs ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴇᴇᴍ ʙᴏʀɴ ᴛᴏ ғᴀɪʟ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ sʜᴀʟʟ ʙᴇ ʏᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ sᴇᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀʏ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴs ʟɪɢʜᴛ.

═══════════════ 𝓐𝓵𝓵 𝓲𝓼 𝓯𝓪𝓲𝓻 𝓲𝓷 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓪𝓻. ═══════════════ ⟹house of the dragon fanfiction ⟹𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗄，aemond targaryen x oc

HOTD X TVD klaroline Steroline Forwood In which Lorenza Targaryen was reincarnated as Caroline Forbes TOXIC FEM! LUCERYS X AEMOND IN THE PAST

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ -ˏˋ. 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙤𝙣 ˊˎ- 𝙄𝙉 𝙒𝙃𝙄𝘾𝙃 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙄𝙍𝙎𝙏𝘽𝙊𝙍𝙉 𝘿𝘼𝙐𝙂𝙃𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙊𝙁 𝙍𝙃𝘼𝙀𝙉𝙔𝙍𝘼 𝙃𝘼𝙎 𝙏𝙊 𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙀 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙎𝙀𝙌𝙐𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙀𝙎 𝙊𝙁 𝘽𝙀𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙃𝙀𝙄𝙍 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙈𝙊𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍. ╒═══════✰° ˢᵉᵃˢᵒⁿ ¹ - ? °✰═══════╛ ╒═══════✰° ᵃᵉᵐᵒⁿᵈ ᵗᵃʳᵍᵃʳʸᵉⁿ °✰═══════╛

the girl who has water powers who also can see the dead and the drunkly boy are betrothed(HES NOT A RAPIST IN THIS PLS)