Aelyx Targaryen

## Prince of the Iron Throne

Jaina Targaryen

Aemma Targaryen

**Aelyx Targaryen** is the second-born son to Aemon I Targaryen, and his first-born son to Queen Daenys Targaryen.

## **Appearance**

A scrawny, short, frail boy, Aelyx is delicate and unassuming. He is not handsome, nor will he ever be- with a weak chin, an upturned nose, lips perpetually turned into a frown, and an owlishly piercing gaze, nothing about him brings to mind the dragonriders of old. Aelyx took great pride in his long straight hair, a pale blonde the color of cornsilk, often begging the maids to plait it into intricate braids to frame his face and grant an illusion of femininity. Knowing this, his mother Daenys recently had it shaved entirely, in an effort to force him to ‘behave as a proper man’. Now only a faint fuzz like the feathers of a newborn chick covers his head, making his enormous violet eyes, as dark as his father’s, seem even larger and more vulnerable.

If left to his own devices, he favors elegant gowns and strands of pearls, all the markers of a true princess. He boasts a small hole in his left ear- he was caught piercing it with a sewing needle and stopped before he could make it to the other. As young and delicate as he looks, with naturally feminine features, he can pass easily enough as a girl, something Aelyx delights in like little else. However, now that his freedom has disappeared and the eyes of court are upon him, he’s been forced back into boy's clothes, inevitably simple tunics and cloaks of gray and black wool, the garb of a maester or an ascetic.

## **History**

Aelyx Targaryen is the firstborn child of King Aemon Targaryen’s tumultuous second marriage. Part of a set of triplets that yielded two deformed stillbirths, hardly identifiable as human, he was a sickly and tiny babe, expected to die before year’s end. His survival, rather than being celebrated, was seen as an ill omen, and only deepened the rift between his parents. He was largely ignored by his father even as an infant, while his mother was alternately smothering and distant, affectionate and cruel, the mark of a narcissist who only cared for a child insofar as it was a reflection of herself.

As a result, he grew into a toddler who burst into tears at the slightest provocation, who scared at sudden movements or loud noises, who screamed like a tortured man and could not sleep through any storm. Little by little, this behavior earned Daenys’ resentment, then outright loathing. By two years old, he was handed off to maids and governesses, banished from her arms. It was around this time that Aelyx’s tantrums turned more and more destructive as he was denied the attention he so desperately craved. Though weak and small, he had a particular disregard for hurting others, scratching until he drew blood, biting for the sake of breaking skin. When horrified servants involved his father in punishing him, the boy's defense was simple and unrepentant- it was Daeron who made him do such things, Daeron who was naughty.

Perhaps he had heard the name from Daenys’ ramblings- certainly the prince had never named the two dead children his wife had birthed. But from the time he could remember, Aelyx was always aware whose shadow he was growing up in. Daeron was the one he connected least with, a representation of all the things he might never be. Brave, strong, powerful. Daeron was all of his rage, all his wrath. It was Maella, instead, he grew to relate to, until he could no longer see where she began and he ended. Maella was good. Maella was charming, Maella was lovely, Maella was so beautiful and so magnetic that none could keep their eyes off her. Maella deserved the love of others- and perhaps that, most of all, was why Aelyx was so desperate to disappear and become her entirely.

He was scarcely four year old when he began playing in his sister's dresses and obsessing over his own reflection in the mirror. It started innocently enough in the minds of his parents, a quirk, not a derangement. But as time passed, as gradually as a drops of rain became a deluge, Aelyx declared he was not Aelyx at all, but Maella. He threw tantrums when referred to with male pronouns or as a prince, as fierce as any before, but more surprisingly, he calmed immediately- and even showed signs of blossoming confidence and affection- when addressed as a girl. Knowing it was easier by far to deal with a pleasant child, servants indulged the fantasy, dressing him in silk and lace, and for the first time, Aelyx- *Maella*- began to smile, laugh, and play like any other his age. These brief years of calm and happiness were abruptly shattered when the distant Aemon learned how his son was being coddled.

Aelyx no longer bears bruises or scars from the beating he endured at six years old, but the wounds go much deeper. He loathes his father with a fearsome intensity. For years afterwards, he considered himself worthless, incomplete, despicable. Why else would his parents hate him so? Perhaps he truly did deserve it. Perhaps Aelyx meant very little at all. And so year by year, day by day, the child retreated into himself, quiet and bitter, calculating and isolated, until at last, three dragons emerged- the Daeron and Maella of his youth, and the neglected, flighty husk of Aelyx beneath them.

Daily, he switches between the identities as fluidly as others might change clothes. Daeron is the epicenter of his rages and fits, a wolf’s skin he puts on to justify whatever cruelty or impulse he wishes. Maella is his outward face, one who can read and respond to people in all the ways Aelyx feels he cannot, with a natural gregarious confidence and a sly and often sadistic perception of how to manipulate others. Aelyx himself is present only when forced to be, which is more and more frequently now that his father is king and he can no longer hide in Dragonstone’s comfortable privacy amongst indulgent servants. As the prince, he is quiet and acid-tongued, solemn and restrained, with his nose usually buried in a book, loathe to engage with others unless it is to exchange barbed insults.

His relationships with his family, as a result, have only suffered. Maelys and Naerys were always strangers to him, and he envied their relationship and their success. Both of them were adored by so many, praised and respected, even when they hardly needed it, for at their worst, they always had each other- all the gifts the gods had seen fit to rob him of, they had given to the twins. Aemma was a brat too young for him to much notice, though he doesn’t object to torturing her out of boredom. Jaina was perhaps the only one of his siblings he was truly close to as a child, but even that soured when all the things she took for granted- the gowns, the flirting, the easy grace- were things he was beaten mercilessly for and forced to set aside. Envy tainted whatever love might be between them. The only family member he has any trust for, and who sees any potential in him, is his iron-willed grandmother, Daena. Though harsh, she is perceptive enough to realize that much of his ‘madness’ is only a childish act, which others have failed to notice.

Aelyx does not truly believe multiple people dwell within him, but he is too young to put into words his own meddled self-identity. Instead, he is aware his behavior is deliberate, born out of a desire for *any* attention, be it positive or negative. Never loved, he has found it is far more amusing and useful to be feared, and madness is an intoxicating way of getting what he wants, the ultimate excuse for whatever behavior he wishes. That is, after all, what is *expected* from a Targaryen born of incest. (From a modern perspective, he displays many symptoms of borderline personality disorder- extreme mood swings and unstoppable outbursts, alternating self-loathing and obsession, a lack of any stability in personal relationships, and a sense of self too fractured to make any sense at all.)

Shrewd, manipulative, and with a self-obsessed tendency to naval gaze, Aelyx is far from an ideal heir to the Targaryen legacy and is aware he is a grave disappointment to both parents, albeit for different reasons. As a result, he has never been close to the rest of his family, and indeed, openly disdains them. He has no skill at arms, no natural charm, no handsome face or impressive physique- the boy's sole saving grace is a razor-sharp mind, even if others dismiss it as tainted by madness. His one mentor is Dragonstone’s aging maester, who captivated him with tales of both the natural world and the more esoteric pursuits of magic and alchemy. Aelyx is a keen and eager student, an avid writer, and an obsessive academic. In words, the ambiguity of the physical world can be escaped, and nowhere else is he more himself.