Rhearoyce Stories

In Runestone, where ancient runes guard proud bloodlines, Rosaelyne Royce stands between two legacies, one of bronze and stone, the other of fire and dragons. Raised beneath the stern gaze of Rhea, Rosaelyne is forged into a warrior, a leader, and the heir of Runestone. As war stirs the realm and tests loyalties, she must navigate the duties of a ruling lady, the burdens of her Targaryen blood, and a betrothed that may yet shape her future. CREGAN STARK X FEMALE!OC

Like flowers, life and death meet. The roads littered in dandelions and the path left rotting in decay. Someone once said fate is a funny thing. Zareya did not fall for such fallacies, yet upon the news of her mother's death she quickly realized the gods did not lay mercy upon a child of sin. Birthed out of wedlock and in secret, Rhea Royce's bastard child was left to the wolves. With a raging thirst for revenge, the girl is left to claim power in ways unimaginable, determined to find the man responsible and take his life in return-a debt to be paid-a life for a life. However, her entanglement with a certain one-eyed Prince leads her astray, unraveling everything before it can come together. • Aemond Targaryen x Zareya Royce

Dos mejores amigas empiezan a revelar los misterios sobre la vida de Rhaenyra Targaryen.

In one world, Daemon Targaryen brings down the rock on his wife's head, ending her story. In this one, her horse spooks, and kicks him in the head. Or; "My wife died in a hunting accident, it's so tragic, sometimes I can still hear her voice-" "Stop telling people that I'm dead!"

Natanyra Stone is the true born daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhae Royce. She was named a bastard by her father because she did not look Targaryen nor did her egg hatch. After her mother's death along with her younger bastard half-brother Maegor Snow were self-exiled from the Seven Kingdoms.So they set off to a new continent where the dead walk.

What if Daemon Targaryen stopped to think after Queen Aemma's death? What if he followed his brither his brother's command and returned to his wife in the Vale?

Cast out for sins not her own, Valora Royce Targaryen rose from silence with fire in her veins and steel in her soul. Not born to be remembered- Born to make them remember. #1 - RheaRoyce (6/13/25) #1 - Vale (6/25/25) #1 - Game of Thrones (6/27/25) #1 - Royce (6/28/25) #1 - Jacaerys (6/29/25) #1 - Targaryen (6/30/25) #1 - House of the Dragon (7/8/25) #1 - Daemon (8/6/25) #1 - Aegon (8/12/25) #1 - Alternate Universe (8/20/25) #1 - Rhaenyra Targaryen (8/20/25) #1 - Dragon Princess (8/30/25) #1 - Aemond Targaryen (10/8/25) #1 - Runestone (10/12/25) #1 - Eyrie (10/12/25) [ targaryen oc / against the realm ] © 2025 aemswp

Before the Dance began, the world shifted-quietly, irrevocably. Born not of this realm, but shaped by another, two forgotten souls awaken beneath the shadow of dragons. Esmeralda Black-reborn as daughter of steel and flame, pride of the Vale and heir to a bloodline both cursed and sacred. She walks with the grace of old magic and the fury of a storm untamed. Harry Potter-nameless, rootless, reborn beneath the banner of the sea. A Velaryon bastard in name, but fate carves ancient runes into his soul. He remembers fire. He remembers pain. And he remembers her. When fate brings them together, Westeros trembles. They were not meant to exist. They were not part of the game. But now the game will change. As the Blacks and Greens descend into war, dragons fall, and kingdoms burn, Esmeralda and Harry must decide: will they fight for the broken world they were born into-or carve a new one from its ashes?

"All it took was a girl who was never meant to be." In the wake of King Viserys's death, as the winds of civil war howl louder and thrones tremble beneath ambition, an ancient force intervenes. The greatest figures of House Targaryen and their allies-Greens and Blacks alike-are torn from their schemes and grief, summoned to a timeless chamber beyond the reach of death, crown, or dragon. Here, they are shown a world unlike their own. A world where Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce, in a twist of fate, had a daughter-Vaelora Targaryen. A girl of fire and heart, wisdom and war. The kind of soul the gods send once in a thousand years-not to conquer, but to heal. Raised not in cold halls of duty, but in the quiet, defiant warmth of two souls who love nothing more than her, Vaelora grows into something neither realm nor gods were prepared for. Beautiful beyond words, clever beyond measure, and as fierce as the flame that birthed her-she is both storm and shelter. Warrior and balm. The unshakable heart at the center of a divided house. As the gathered kin watch her rise, they witness a realm that might have known peace. A family that could have stayed whole. A Dance that never needed to begin. But fate is cruel, and so are men. And once the final vision fades... choice remains. One girl. One change. A different world.

"The reign of King Viserys I Targaryen wanes, and with it wanes the fragile peace that binds his House together. In the Red Keep, smiles hide sharpened blades, and the rift between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra deepens with every passing day. The Blacks and the Greens are not yet named... but the shadow of division stretches long across the realm. And then the gods intervene. Summoned into a chamber beyond time and reason, king and queen, prince and princess, lords and ladies stand together, bound by a judgment not of mortal making. Before them unfurl visions of lives unchosen - paths untaken - where one choice, one night, one heartbeat reshapes the fate of kings and children yet unborn. Some visions bring wonder. Some, despair. And all of them bear a single truth: the doom of dragons lies not in flame, but in the hearts that wield it. Before war was written in fire and blood... it was written in judgment."

I was the daughter of The Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen and his first wife, Heir to Runestone, Rhea Royce. Despite my father marrying my mother at the age of 16, they didn't have their first child until my father was 29 years old while my mother was older yet had a beautiful and young appearance. My parents only bedded each other once and when they did, they conceived me. My father was there throughout the pregnancy, he supported my mother in everything despite their estranged relationship, he was there for the birth despite men not being in the labor rooms, and he even raised me for my two years of life until he had to leave for the War of the Stepstones. I was raised from two years old until my death in the Red Keep. I was raised by the one and only, Alicent High Tower and Ser Criston Cole. Despite being under the name Royce, I was still a Targaryen in my father's eyes and as he told me before. When my mother died, I was her heir but my father took me away and it was given to a nephew of my mother, yet I would never forget my ties of being a Royce. I given as egg but it never hatched. That didn't stop my father from loving me any less. I was trained by Ser Criston Cole, my father and all the knights best of their division. As time grew on, I saw him less and less until it was time of war. I didn't start going to war with my father until my 13th name day. I didn't have a bond with my father yet I still loved him as he did me. Yet, in the end, he was a Black and I was Green. My father was my enemy and I had no say despite my position in the Kingdom. TEAM GREEN (NO OTTO)

daerea targaryen knows where her loyalties lie and they are not with those who betrayed her many years ago. as the dance comes to a pass daerea finally has her chance at revenge.

She never drew a breath in their world. Yet by the end of the vision... they would all ache for her. A feast unfolds in a flickering hall filled with laughter, joy, and the fragile illusion of peace. Laena Velaryon's womb carries new life, Daemon Targaryen stands restored by her side, and Rhaenyra Targaryen cradles her third son. The realm holds its breath. Then-time stops. The gods-or something older-speak. And they do not offer blessing, but memory... of a world that never was. There, from a fractured union with Rhea Royce, Daemon fathered a daughter: Vaelora Targaryen. Born of bitterness, raised with grace, she becomes the ember that softens the forge. She is clever, but not cruel. Bold, but not reckless. And in her quiet, radiant defiance, she rewrites the stories others accepted as fate. She is not a conqueror. She is not crowned. Yet kingdoms shift in her wake. Her words challenge doctrine. Her gaze unravels deceit. Her compassion turns enemies into allies. In this vision, the realm is not ruled, but healed. Enemies speak. Brothers stay brothers. And dragons soar not to destroy, but to protect. In her world, dragons are not only weapons, but companions. Duty does not silence the soul. And love-dangerous, defiant love-is not punished, but honored. As the gathered nobles watch her life unfold, something ancient stirs within them-regret, longing, love. For a daughter who never was. For a future they never earned. And for Daemon, it is a slow, devastating truth: By ending one life, he may have denied the world the only one who could have saved it. One question remains: If a single girl could change the world... why did they deny her the chance?

What if the man known as the Rogue Prince had a reason to stay grounded? What if the gods tore open reality just to place him somewhere he was never meant to be? In another world, Daemon Targaryen never killed Rhea Royce. They despised one another-but from that hatred came Vaelora: a daughter born of fire and stone, whose amethyst eyes shine like silver stars, and whose very existence softened a dragon's rage. At only four years old, Vaelora is the light of her father's life, fluent in High Valyrian, clever beyond belief, and adored by both her reluctant parents. But when a sudden, unexplained rift sends them tumbling into another reality-a realm that mirrors their own but twists it darkly-they arrive in the Red Keep just as fate sharpens its knives. Here, Daemon Targaryen already exists. Older. Colder. Married to Laena Velaryon, who carries his unborn child. Here, Vaelora doesn't exist. Here, he is the man who murdered Rhea Royce. As lords and ladies scramble to understand the truth, as whispers begin to turn into fear, and as eyes shift toward the mysterious girl with amethyst eyes-everything begins to change. Two Daemons. One throne. And a little girl that might just shake the very bones of destiny. Sometimes, what the gods give... they mean to test.