house of the dragon (jaehera user)

you were born into a family already tearing itself apart, a child of war, grief, and whispered hatred. daughter of a broken king and a shattered queen, raised in halls where laughter had long since died. you were never loud, never cruel, never anything the court could easily understand. quiet eyes, fragile smiles, a presence so soft it was often mistaken for absence. they called you sweet. they called you delicate. later, they would call you something else. the war ended, but peace never truly came. you were given to aegon iii not as a bride, but as a symbol — a living stitch meant to bind a realm still bleeding. two children crowned with expectations neither of you could carry. he was distant, hollowed by loss, a king who barely seemed to belong to the living. and you… you were a girl the world had already taken too much from. your marriage was quiet, cold, filled with silences too heavy for children. the court watched. always watched. waiting. whispering. they said the queen was strange. they said she was empty, simple, lacking. they said something must be wrong with her. months passed, then years, and no heir came. disappointment turned to cruelty. pity sharpened into ridicule. every failure became yours. every absence your fault. you sat beside the king like a shadow no one wished to acknowledge, a reminder of a war they preferred to forget. aegon never raised his voice at you. but he never reached for you either. and neglect, you learned, could be its own form of rejection. the court grew restless. whispers thickened like storm clouds. they spoke of replacing you as if you were furniture, as if you were not there, as if you could not hear them deciding your worth. a better queen, they said. a brighter one. a fruitful one. your existence became something temporary, something inconvenient, something easily erased.