Vhaegar the First

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𝕬𝖓𝖓𝖆𝖑𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕳𝖎𝖘 𝕴𝖒𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖑 𝕸𝖆𝖏𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖞 𝖁𝖍𝖆𝖊𝖌𝖆𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕱𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙

Timeline is currently up to date

*BVC: Before Vhaegar's Conquest
**DVC: During Vhaegar's Conquest
***AVC: After Vhaegar's Conquest

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𝕽𝖔𝖞𝖆𝖑 𝕿𝖎𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕬𝖈𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖘

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𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕳𝖎𝖘 𝕴𝖒𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖑 𝕸𝖆𝖏𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖞

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𝕮𝖍𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝕳𝖎𝖘 𝕴𝖒𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖆𝖑 𝕸𝖆𝖏𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖞:

Maerys Targaryen, the final few of the blood of Old Valyria. Born to King Aerys II "The Mad King", and Queen Rhaella. Maerys, the unknown fourth. Yet Maerys' birth was one mired in the fog of time. Little is known as to how he came to be, but the few people who had tended to him as but a suckling babe. During the pregnancy that had yielded Prince Rhaegar, many suspected that the child within Rhaella's stomach was rather large. It was frequently jested by the handmaidens of the queen that she carried yet another Aegon the Fourth. The dutiful queen quickly smote these rumours... yet not by confronting them. When Rhaegar was birthed at Summerhall, they had witnessed a second child emerge from her womb. The birth of Maerys was dramatic to say the least, and held up to the Words of the House he was born into.


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In the smoldering grove in which the two were birthed, Maerys came out as the latter. The "younger" of the two. The little tuft of silver hair hair on his head and his alabaster skin, stained with blood, glimmered in the light of the flames that roared from the palace of Summerhall. Yet he was silent at birth. While Rhaegar cried out, Maerys was quiet. As if to hearken unto the heavens the birth of the crown prince. Yet the younger brother did indeed breathe. He was alive. Rhaella did not fear a stillborn child... she feared the twin to Rhaegar. The marriage between Rhaella and Aerys was by no means pleasant. Many knew that it had been like walking on eggshells when the two dealt with each other. In fear of how her husband would react, she swiftly saw to it that Maerys was swiftly sent into hiding as a charge of House Velaryon. His mother had sent a large ironwood chest of goods but a few months after his birth, to secure Maerys a true living worthy of a Targaryen in adulthood. Yet it was more than crowns that had laid within the chest...


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Time had moved ever onward, and Maerys grew. He was granted a standard upbringing worthy of someone of his noble status. Yet his existence was kept secret. Ravens were sent back and forth between Maegor's Holdfast and the castle of Driftmark as to the progress of the young prince. Maerys had always prized the days that he was permitted to attend court (incognito, of course), and his counsel was considered to be wise and virtuous. He and his brother were alike in so many ways. Well learned, formidable fighters, and charming in the least. Yet keeping this child under wraps was all too easy. Yet in time, the two brothers that were separated at birth had been brought into contact... and continued to exchange letters by way of raven. The two had first met within the halls of Dragonstone by candle light. Their meeting was brief, yet they knew that they had a connection that was severed at birth was promptly resealed. As they briefly talked over the Painted Table, they had become thick as thieves while they shared thoughts in Old Valyrian. While the moment they had was brief, it would last for a lifetime between them.


Years had passed, and letters were shared back and fourth between Rhaegar and Maerys. They had kept in touch with all that had went on within the Seven Kingdoms, from which Maerys was sequestered from. He continued to live his life as a simple landed lord in Driftmark. Biding his time in service and idle lordship. Yet on one fateful day, Maerys had received a raven from his brother. War had broken out. Maerys was dumbstruck by such a sudden occurrence. Yet when Maerys heard of how the war came to be, he knew what had to be done. Maerys had taken whatever was of importance to him from his holding in Driftmark before he burnt it to the ground, and sailed for Kings Landing. Aboard his ship, he had taken the time to go through the chest that his mother had assembled for him to open when he was of the right age. Inside were two large bags of gold crowns to help him traverse wherever he may go. The greatest item of value was the ancestral sword of House Targaryen, Dark Sister. Long thought to have been lost to time, it had rested in the chest for twenty-four years. But the one item that was of greatest value (at least to Maerys), was a parchment... that certified his legitimacy as a Targaryen. Signed by the last two houses of Old Valyria, Celtigar and Velaryion, along with the heads of several Westerosi houses and figures of importance. Doran and Oberyn Martell, Mace Tyrell, Barristan Selmy and Olenna Tyrell. Yet Maerys knew that there would be one final signature that would make it complete... his father's own.


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The moment that his ship docked in King's Landing, Loyalist forces quickly pumped Maerys for information. Quick on his toes, the prince-in-hiding had weaved a lie of delivering critical news to King Aerys from Driftmark. Soldiers that were loyal to the king swiftly escorted him to the Red Keep by way of secret passages and weaving tunnels. In no time, Maerys had found himself in the throne room with his father... and Ser Jaime Lannister. The audience that the prince-in-hiding held was brief, like it was with his "eldest brother". Maerys' heart had ached at the sight of what his father was. A man muddled in his emotions and mental whims. Yet he knew that when he approached Aerys... deep down, the king knew who stood before him. With a few deft movements, and ample coercion, Maerys soon had the document that made his legitimacy official in total completion. Yet he made one final lie to his father... that he would go and defend King's Landing. The moment his audience was complete, he fled the city just moments after the city fell prey to the ravaging forces of the Lannisters. Maerys barely made it to safety aboard his ship, and plotted a course for Essos.


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Weeks later, he had received word from the last of the "loyalists" in secrecy about what had become of the remaining Targaryens. A raven from Lord Varys, The Spider. Maerys was crushed over what had happened to his beloved brother and his niece and nephew. He grieved for a long period within the hold of his ship, silently weeping over the loss of the one person he truly held dear in the world. Yet there was a silver lining to the moment. Two younger siblings had survived... Viserys, and Daenerys.

The time had come for Maerys to become what he was destined to be... the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. It was a long, grueling journey to get to where he was today. He had seen many things, done so much, and seen what the world had to offer. Yet even in his idle time did he dream about taking what was his. Essos had changed him. Few of his companions know if it was for the better. Yet when word had reached Essos, that Cersei Lannister had taken the Iron Throne, Maerys knew it was time for him to act. With a legion of Unsullied at his back, along with the willing aid of the Golden Company, he was ready to venture off to Westeros once more. It was one thing that he never expected to do within the entirety of his lifetime. To set foot on the soil that yielded him such an estranged life from his lineage. But not a single day had gone by where he had not thanked Balerion for sparing him such misery at the hands of what became his family.


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He had always heard rumours that the people of King's Landing prayed for the return of House Targaryen, that they wove banners of the three headed dragon in secrecy. Maerys wanted to believe in that with the entirety of his heart. But with the track record that his father held, there was an almost minisule chance of that being the closest bit of truth. Yet, he did have a sister in Meereen. The supposed "Mother of Dragons", who brought back the black banner that once brought order to the chaotic realms of the Seven Kingdoms. He truly wished to meet with her, yet he knew that he had other priorities to focus on. But it all changed with one raven...


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The fleet that Maerys commandeered had all dropped anchor in the Blackwater. But Maerys' flagship, "Rhaegar's Wrath", was moored at the docks of the harbor of King's Landing Onlookers gasped at the sight of the three-headed dragon that flew over the harbor. Many were skeptical, and believed the Valyrian that strode down be but an Essosi Valyrian under the guise of the last two Targaryens... yet the onyx beasts of fire and cinder that flew over the Blackwater swiftly broke the notion. To think the massive fleet would not have arrived in Westeros, had it not been for that lone raven. Yet it was the message that the raven delivered that would send them westward. A piece of parchment, bearing the seal of the Harpy on it. The moment that seal was broken, the message drove Maerys with the utmost urgency.


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𝒩𝑜𝓌
- 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓥𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓼


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The king-to-be expected the worst of what was to come from traversing through the streets of King's Landing to the Red Keep. Yet Maerys was surprised at everyone's behaviour. Peasants came to touch the king, as if he was an avatar of The Seven. Wine merchants offered him cups of their finest casks, bakers gave him bread to eat... and a dozen Goldcloaks forsook their queen, and went up with him and members of the Golden Company. Banners of the believed-to-be-extinct house flew through the street, toted by bannermen.


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The door to the throne room had promptly opened, during the most fortuitous of moments. The Lannister witch was but moments from being crowned as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Cersei was to have her right to rule contested. The royal court had erupted into madness, with blades drawn and a constant stream of accusations made upon the Targaryen that stood before them. Some of the hostile questioning bordered on absurdity, while others were purely crass. Answers were simple, yet effective for the honey-worded prince. But the final nail in the coffin for Cersei to be ousted, was followed with the very letter that would win him the Iron Throne. The final document to ever be signed by a Targaryen monarch. Yet it wasn't just the signatures of his parents that mattered... but the signature of every member of Aerys' advisors.


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- 𝓛𝓾𝓬𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓼 𝓥𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓸𝓷
- 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓥𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓼
- 𝓖𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓜𝓪𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓟𝔂𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓮
- 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓡𝓱𝓪𝓮𝓰𝓪𝓻 𝓣𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓮𝓷
- 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓙𝓸𝓷 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓽𝓸𝓷


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The ladies gallery was awash with whispers, as many of the men in court seemed to rally to his side. Cersei was floundering. Her ambition to become queen would die as fast as it was conceived. Maerys stood with the support of many nobles, with more and more of the Goldcloaks taking their place at the side of Maerys' men. Yet one sound broke the rallying crowd... the blade of Gregor Clegane was swiftly drawn. The silent, lumbering husk of a man quickly charged at Maerys. The men who pledged their blades stood idly by out of shock. Yet the lithe figure of Maerys was quick to dodge the attack of the hulking beast. With one fell swoop of the Targaryen ancestral blade, he cleaved straight into the achilles tendon of Clegane. A thundrous pop resounded through the throne room, with the member of the kingsguard swiftly dropping to to his knees. A final swoop of his blade was made, and Clegane's head rolled across the floor. Rotting, coagulated blood spurted from veins and arteries. With nowhere left to run (with mob mentality quickly building), Cersei was trapped. She had to abdicate the crown, or die as a usurper...


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And so the Lion Twins had gazed out eternally from the Traitor's Walk, their heads resting upon spikes.

Maerys saw far greater value in founding a kingdom in Essos. Fractured states and empires, constantly at each others throats would yield far more under the banner of House Targaryen. Essos would be his battleground, his playroom for him to do as he wished... and he saw to bring glory to the Three-Headed Dragon once more.


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Maerys not only survived on Driftmark, but he thrived. A fresh-faced Valyrian pretty-boy was rather unsuspecting among the Velaryons of the isle that rested in The Blackwater. Yet the boy wasn't going to raise any suspicions, and adopted the Velaryon name of Ayrmidon. Generating such a ruse would keep him safe and secure on the oceanic landmass for now. But Maerys did not live like his brother did. While he had stories of Rhaegar, Maerys consistently shrugged them off and scoffed at his brother's name. Maerys was a brute who trained day and night by way of blade, bow and horse. He always found it laughable how his brother would spend more time with books and tales of old, than focusing on the essentials of survival in battle. But given his valor, Maerys was knighted under his true name in secrecy. While it was shady business for the High Septon to conduct such an act in secrecy, Maerys could keep that sniveling weasel who considered himself a "man of the cloth" around his finger. With the dirt that he had on the High Septon from Lord Varys, it'd be all too easy to condemn the man. This was perhaps Maerys' first step in becoming a brutish leader.


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While Maerys (under the Westerosi guise of Ser Ayrmidon) was prized for his success in battle, Lord Monford kept him on a short leash. After some nasty business that had transposed in The Riverlands, the lofty lord had to keep him closely controlled. A spark for conquest and bloodlust began to burn in his eyes from that day forth. But would this come in handy for someone like him? A mere lord who would live in the shadow of his brother? Each day for him on Driftmark was a reminder of how he would stand in the eyes of the realm. He would be a nobody in his life. A simple lord on the isle for the remainder of his days. But what could he do about it?


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As if by miracle by way of Balerion, the rebellion of Robert the Usurper arose in the Storrmlands. It'd almost seemed to be far too fortuitous for Maerys to finally leave the land he was confined to for decades. With a lust for power in his heart, he turned his eyes eastward and sailed for Essos. He didn't have to even beg or plea to go East. Lord Monford had sent Maerys on his way to Essos with the best belief of the Targaryen being safer out there. Yet the final order of Lord Monford would come to be the ultimate downfall of Essos.


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With six ships and one-hundred-and-eighty good men loyal to the Targaryens at Maerys' back, they swiftly sailed for Essos. While their first stop was unclear, Maerys had but one idea on his mind. While he heard tales of the smoldering ruins of Old Valyria... Maerys wanted to see for himself. Many refused the notion of going near the Lands of Long Summer, but Maerys had dared so. But he knew not to lead the only men loyal to him into a possibly mutinous situation. So they had lain down port in Volantis, from which Maerys departed to the lands of his forefathers under the cover of nightfall.


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The young lord rode hard and fast to reach the land he was so eager to discover. Yet Maerys was not certain as to what he would find in the ashen land of dragons and fire. One could never go without noticing the sky growing red as they ventured closer and closer to the ruined Valyrian Freehold. The moment he crossed the border from Volantis into the ancient land that was long since destroyed, the air seemed to grow hot and heavy in his lungs. But adamant nerves sought to discover what had truly rested there. Charging down cobblestone roads littered with ash and passing by burning mounts of brimstone, it was truly wondrous to view the cataclysmic beauty of the land. Despite it's desolate nature, Maerys saw art in the wastes of the charred earth. But Maerys had soon happened by a ruined city... that was circled by three dragons.


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His horse reared at the call of the dragons. Before Maerys could even blink, his mound lurched away from under him. A clatter of his armour sounded through the ruins of the city as he fell to the ground, alerting the creatures in the sky of his presence. It had been centuries since the fall of the Freehold, which caused his mind to stir at the thought of how long these beasts have been here for. But each one of them swiftly dove down after Maerys, and slammed down on the ground around him. The earth shook at his feet which sent his armor rattling slightly. Even he felt the thud of their hind legs against the ground in his chest. But it was quite a nerve wracking experience for him. With what seemed to be impending doom, Maerys decided it'd be best to face dignity with pride. With his ancestral blade at hand, he remained still and awaited his fate. But... he wasn't slain on the spot. Flaring nostrils drew in the scent of the Targaryen to survey who he was like a dog familiarizing itself with a new person. Each one of the leviathan beasts that seemed as if they could swallow King's Landing whole had continued to breathe in the scent of Maerys (or whatever they could grab of it through the stench of smoke). When all was said and done, the beasts had merely circled around Maerys. It seemed all to confusing to have three leviathan dragons that could match The Black Dread in strength idly pace around him. They went from hostile to docile in a mere matter of seconds. With such a change in attitude to Maerys, he swiftly climbed upon the largest... which quickly took off into the sky.


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Daybreak had risen over Volantis, and many of the Targaryen soldiers were worried over their Lord. Maerys was usually up at this time for drilling with them all, or he'd be out in the city. But before they could even break into the cabin of their Lord, they were greeted with a sight that few could ever expect... three living dragons, the size of Balerion soaring in the skies. The young king had spent the better part of the evening exploring the remainder of the ruined Freehold by way of dragon. He walked through the streets where his ancestors did, gazed into the mouths of volcanoes, and ran his fingers through rivers of molten gold. And now he soared through the skies of Volantis, which was blotted out beneath the wings of his dragons: Jaenyx, Dhaerax, and Ayrmidax. With three dragons at his back, Maerys would be unstoppable. Maerys swiftly commanded his men to follow him into the Dothraki wilds, to bide their time... for now.
Story can stop here, should one wish to create a story from here


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Only a month had passed before Maerys had returned from the Great Grass Sea. With his faithful men and dragons at his back, they swiftly set off into Meereen. Maerys knew just what had to be done as soon as he arrived at the city gates. Per the words of his family, the conquest of Meereen had followed in the manner most fitting. Fire and Blood. A handful of the great pyramids were but molten ruins, while the Great Pyramid still stood true. But the wise masters swiftly caved to his rules and abdicated to him. While many would be content there, Maerys kept going. Yunkai had fell next, with Astapor following in suit. But Maerys was quite looking forward towards conquering Ghis. Ever since he set sail for Essos, he would hear legends of the Ghiscari Empire. Such majesty like that which rivaled the Freehold he walked in but a month earlier was astonishing... and he wished to revive that empire, that would span across the lands. The moment his dragons flew overhead, the king of Ghis could practically be heard sobbing from his tower. Maerys was no longer a king... but Emperor now, ruling under the name of Vhaegar. Ruling over four kingdoms, with far more to come beneath his banner. Qarth was next... with the whole of Essos next.


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With but a few years under his belt, and an ever growing horde of dragons and men, all of Essos fell to him. The Usurper Robert would be in for quite a shock to hear word that Essos had fallen as a whole to a young Targaryen in hiding for all his life... with a taste for conquest in his mouth. From Braavos to Yi Ti, everyone had come to live under the dragon by way of the Targaryen words...

Once more, the Targaryen dynasty sat upon the Iron Throne. Yet it was not in the fashion it once was. Westerosi traits sinking into the foundations of the house have been purged, and filled with the traditions of old that Aegon the First would have followed before leaving Old Valyria... and Vhaegar was the blacksheep that bought these antiquities of familial history. While many were more obscure to Westerosi tastes, some chimed in perfectly within society. Some, however, were far less appealing to many. Polygamous marriage was viewed as useful in Vhaegar's eyes. The man sired more than forty living legitimate children, between ten wives. Yet the number of children that rank as bastards are but four, birthed by two concubines. Yet stillbirths ran high for the spawn of Aerys, and all but five of Vhaegar's wives still live.


While Vhaegar lives as a man of familial duty, with sights set on rebuilding the Targaryen family, he is prone to heartbreak like anyone else. A marriage of duty can certainly blossom with affection in moments of one's life. With the loss of a lover, it always yields heartbreak. Five women lost had deafened a once warm heart to the tenderness that it held. Vhaegar's hands remain ever-stained with the blood of his foes. Yet the blood that coated his hands over their deaths shook him. Stillbirths and assassinations can crush a man at his very core.


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But, the House stands strong, stretching from East to West. At the age of fifty-five, more and more nations fall to the banner of the three-headed dragon. The Empire of New Valyria standing tall and strong with the Dragonlords flying across the world once more. Essosi Valyrians rallied beneath the banner they once knew, and claimed the blood of Old Valyria once more. They were no longer estranged creatures fighting for a life in a harsh world. They were High Valyrians once more. Yet King Vhaegar did not stop there.


The realms of the Seven Kingdoms and the Essosi territories were watched over by his children, ever valiant in controlling them. Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, the eldest at twenty-five governed from Braavos to the lands of Asshai-by-shadow. He was charged by his father to watch over the realms that his father conquered during his exile in the East. Yet Rhaegar is not the only dragonspawn that holds such power at his father's side. Many of Vhaegar's children whisper in the ears of the overlords of the Seven Kingdoms. Each of those seven children keeping the lords of their respective realms in check. Even the cadet houses, founded on the backs of Vhaegar's bastards had a part to play in everything too.


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Even Vhaegar was prone to urges. But he saw greatness in the eyes of those children. While he had all of the appropriate power to legitimize the four children of his concubines... he refused to. He saw greatness in them holding the surname of 'Waters' until the time would come. Once each one came of age, they were granted a respective cadet house. Jaecarys, the eldest of the three leads house Blackfyre. Viserys was granted House Goldfyre, Rhaenys would lead Silverfyre, and Elaena led House Steelwyrm. These four cadet branches oversaw Westeros and Essos with militaristic fervour and a heart devout to serving the king.


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The road to the Iron Throne has always been a tumultuous path for Vhaegar, yet he ultimately gained his greatest wish. His place upon the Iron Throne. But such a task came at a price that he could not estimate All too often would he spend his nights pondering upon how he would turn out. Would he be as twisted as his younger brother? Or would time madden him like his father. Everything could be a factor...

1. The Great Hall
2. Light of the Seven
3. The Epic of Sanguine and Flame