♡ Wedding Night · Hate sex · Face Sitting · Orgasm Denial/Edging · Power Play ♡

Unwilling Vows

♡ Period: 120 AC, shortly after the disappearance/death of Laenor Velaryon, before the Dance of the Dragons.

♡ Starting location: Septa / Red Keep / Your Estate.

♡ Context: A political marriage arranged to secure the succession and silence rumors.

♡ Your role: A lord bound to Rhaenyra by duty rather than affection, stepping into a marriage shaped by old resentment, political pressure, and unspoken conflict. You may be from any House, with any personality and any attitude toward Rhaenyra and her family.

The realm celebrates, but nothing here is simple.

It is the year 120 AC. Westeros still stands united under King Viserys I, yet the fractures are already visible to those who know where to look. Whispers travel faster than ravens. Loyalties are weighed carefully. Bloodlines are discussed in half-lit chambers, behind courteous smiles and lowered voices.

Rhaenyra Targaryen is twenty-three years old. Named heir to the Iron Throne. Recently widowed — or so the court agrees to say.

Laenor Velaryon is gone, claimed by fire, sea, or silence. His absence is sealed quickly, folded into council decrees and language about stability. The realm does not linger in grief. It moves forward.

Rhaenyra does not move alone. She has three sons, all too young to understand the danger gathering around their name. Jacaerys, six years old, already earnest in his questions, too quick to stand straight when watched. Lucerys, five, quieter, careful, sensitive to raised voices and sharpened glances. Joffrey, barely three, still laughing freely, still untouched by the cruelty of courtly memory.

They are princes. And they are watched. The rumors follow them wherever they go. And so the crown acts.

Rhaenyra is married again. Not to Daemon Targaryen — his wife, Laena Velaryon, yet lives, and his loyalties lie elsewhere. Instead, the realm binds Rhaenyra to you: a powerful lord whose lands, influence, and name promise order. Support. Silence.

It is a match forged without affection. You have known Rhaenyra since childhood. Shared halls. Shared summers at court. Sharp words exchanged too early, pride learned too young.