Unholiness ~ Origins

Unholiness ~ Origins

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WpMetadataReadMatureComplete Mon, Jul 28, 20256h 35m
(18+ Mature Content) A secret pregnancy, hidden from the Realm, produces a daughter of pure Fire and Blood. Forced to succumb to silence, shipped off to Oldtown, raised by a High Septa instead of her own mother. Is her true identity the key to the Dance of Dragons, or will she be the demise of House Targaryen? Daenaera was a sickly infant, abused and groomed into believing she deserved the treatment; until she forged a forbidden love with an awfully distant 'sibling'. Her true, innocent, being is called to charge, where her fate remains undecided by the Gods. It's as if they wish a greater purpose for her, sending the largest, cruelest, and brutish of dragons to guide her journey throughout the terrors the Dance of Dragons curates. {Storylines may be canon, and/or untrue to the books & series} {TW: ocxoc, religious trauma, angst, violence, general themes of ASOIAF, heavy smexual & smut material. this is your warning!!}
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Born in the heart of fire and blood, Saera Velaryon, the eldest daughter and heir of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, was a child beloved beyond measure-a princess draped in adoration, raised to believe the Iron Throne was her birthright. The realm called her *Saera the Spoiled*, for she had never known a world where she was not treasured. But war does not spare even the most cherished. When the Dance of the Dragons erupts, the realm fractures between Black and Green. Prince Aemond Targaryen, the one-eyed rider of Vhagar, stands at the forefront of the war, a blade in the name of his mother, Queen Alicent Hightower, and his brother, King Aegon II. A warrior forged in anger, ruthless and unyielding, but was his sword ever truly theirs to start? Aemond harbors a secret-a devotion that undermines the very cause he supposedly fights for. For all his wrath and violence, his heart has been lost to Saera since childhood, bound to her by longing, by fate, by a love neither of them dared to name. When duty and desperation forced them into an marriage before the war broke, their union was meant to be a bridge between Green and Black, a political bond to quell animosity and resentment. But beneath the weight of war and betrayal, behind closed doors and whispered confessions, *love*-unyielding, undeniable-has already taken root. Their love is a treasonous thing, a flame burning between two sides sworn to destroy each other. And in the end, when the blood of kin stains the realm and dragons fall from the sky, Aemond must make a choice-his family or his wife, his crown or his heart. For what is duty when weighed against devotion? And what is a throne when set against love? _ "And then the storm broke, and the dragons danced."

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