Who Ruled Westeros Before The Targaryens?

The Targaryens are one of those families that just ooze mystery and power, like a dragon hiding in the shadows. They originally came from Valyria, this ancient, super advanced civilization where dragonlords ruled the skies. But unlike other Valyrian houses, the Targaryens weren’t top-tier there—they were kinda minor players. Then this whole Doom of Valyria thing happened, and bam! The entire civilization got wiped out except for the Targaryens, who’d already moved to Dragonstone. It’s like they had this sixth sense about the apocalypse or something. Fast forward to Westeros, and Aegon the Conqueror decides, 'Hey, why not unite this whole continent?' With his sisters-wives, Visenya and Rhaenys, and their dragons, they just rolled over the Seven Kingdoms like it was nothing. The Targaryen family tree is wild—incest to keep the bloodline 'pure,' tragic love stories, and a whole lot of fire and blood. Their history reads like a mix of epic poetry and a soap opera, and I’m here for every second of it. What really gets me is how their legacy lingers, even after Robert’s Rebellion. You can’t shake off dragons that easily.

Westeros before Aegon's Conquest was a patchwork of warring kingdoms, each with its own rich lore and bloody rivalries. The First Men crossed the Arm of Dorne thousands of years ago, clashing with the Children of the Forest and eventually forging the Pact at the Isle of Faces. Then came the Long Night and the White Walkers, leading to the legendary Battle for the Dawn where the Last Hero and Azor Ahai supposedly turned the tide. The Age of Heroes followed, with figures like Bran the Builder raising the Wall and Storm's End, while Lann the Clever tricked the Casterlys out of their rock. The Andal invasion brought the Faith of the Seven and shattered the First Men's dominance, except in the North where the Starks consolidated power. The Rhoynar later landed in Dorne, blending their culture with the Martells. It's fascinating how George R.R. Martin wove these layers—part myth, part history—into something that feels so tangible. The petty kingdoms constantly shifted alliances through marriages and betrayals. The Storm Kings once held territory as far as the Reach, while the Ironborn reaved under Harren the Black's tyranny until Aegon roasted him in Harrenhal. What grabs me is how these ancient conflicts echo in 'Game of Thrones'—the Stark-Lannister feud feels like a continuation of age-old rivalries. The Doom of Valyria also loomed large, as dragonlords like the Targaryens watched from Dragonstone before making their move. Honestly, the more you dig into pre-Conquest history, the more you realize everyone's just replaying older tragedies with new names.

The exile of Aeriana Targaryen is one of those messy, tragic Westerosi tales that feels ripped straight from the history books—because, well, it kinda is. From what I've pieced together through 'Fire & Blood' and fan theories, Aeriana was caught in the crossfire of Targaryen family drama at its worst. She wasn't just some rebellious noble; her exile was tied to the Dance of the Dragons, that brutal civil war where dragons turned on each other. Rhaenyra's faction saw her as a threat—maybe because she had her own dragon, or perhaps she backed the wrong claimant. The Greens probably didn't trust her either. By the time the dust settled, Aeriana was too politically radioactive to stay, so off she went to Essos, another Targaryen cast out by their own blood. What fascinates me is how her story mirrors Daenerys' later—both women forged their own paths in exile, but Aeriana never got a triumphant return. There's a melancholy there, like hearing an echo of a song that never found its chorus. I wonder if GRRM left her fate vague on purpose, just to remind us how many Targaryens got chewed up by the game of thrones.

The Iron Throne's final claimant in 'Game of Thrones' was Bran Stark, though the journey there was anything but straightforward. After Daenerys Targaryen's demise and Jon Snow's exile, the surviving lords and ladies of Westeros gathered to decide the realm's fate. Tyrion’s speech about stories being the glue of power led to Bran’s election as king—a bittersweet twist for a character who once said he 'doesn’t want anymore.' The throne itself was melted by Drogon, symbolizing the end of an era. Bran’s rule was framed as a new dawn, but fans still debate whether his ascension felt earned or rushed after seasons of fiery conquests and political backstabbing. Personally, I love the irony of the throne going to someone who literally couldn’t sit on it (hello, wheelchair symbolism!), but the execution left some wanting. The show’s chaotic final season overshadowed what could’ve been a poetic resolution—Bran, the Three-Eyed Raven, ruling not through force but through detached wisdom. Still, it’s fun to imagine how George R.R. Martin might flesh this out differently in the books.

The world of 'A Song of Ice and Fire' is a tangled web of shifting power, and the title 'King of the Seven Kingdoms' isn't as straightforward as it seems. Technically, at the start of the series, Robert Baratheon holds the crown, but his reign is built on the ashes of the Targaryen dynasty. After his death, the realm fractures—Joffrey, Tommen, and Cersei all claim it, but their rule is plagued by war and rebellion. Then there's Daenerys Targaryen, who believes the throne is her birthright, and Stannis Baratheon, who sees himself as the lawful heir. Even Aegon Targaryen (if he's real) throws his hat in the ring. The Iron Throne isn't just about bloodlines; it's about who can hold it through fire and blood. Personally, I love how GRRM makes the question itself a commentary on power. The 'king' is whoever has the strength (or deception) to keep it—until someone stronger comes along. That's why the series feels so alive; the crown is always up for grabs, and no one's claim is ever truly secure.

Jaime Lannister is the one who drove his sword through Aerys II's back during the Sack of King's Landing. It's one of those moments in 'A Song of Ice and Fire' that still gives me chills—not just because of the act itself, but because of the layers behind it. Jaime was sworn to protect the king as a member of the Kingsguard, yet he chose to break that oath to save the city from Aerys's wildfire plot. The irony is thick: the 'Kingslayer' became a villain in the eyes of many, but his actions arguably prevented a far greater tragedy. What fascinates me most is how George R.R. Martin twists the idea of heroism. Jaime's reputation never recovered, even though he might've been the only person in the room with the guts to stop a madman. It's a brutal reminder that Westeros doesn't reward pragmatism—it thrives on perception. I sometimes wonder how differently things might've gone if people knew the full story instead of just the nickname.

Rhaegar Targaryen is one of those characters people talk about with a mix of admiration and frustration. His presence looms over the 'Game of Thrones' saga like an unachievable ideal, a tragic hero in so many ways. To start, his decisions set off a chain reaction that altered the course of Westeros forever. The most pivotal moment has to be his relationship with Lyanna Stark. Rhaegar’s obsession, or perhaps his genuine love, for her led him to abduct her, or did he? This event sparked the infamous Robert’s Rebellion. The repercussions were immense, as it resulted in the deaths of countless characters we grow to love throughout the series. What’s particularly fascinating is how his actions reveal the fragile nature of power and longing in Westeros. Rhaegar, with his noble intentions, strived for a better future, hoping to unite the realm. Yet, his quest for honor and love tore the kingdom apart. It’s ironic how his noble heart, in the face of a corrupt world, couldn’t prevent bloodshed but instead propelled it. While some may criticize Rhaegar for his choices, it’s hard not to empathize with him. He was a product of a lineage marked by madness and tragedy, in a game where players often sacrifice their loved ones. It leaves you wondering—could he have done things differently? Or was he merely following the tragic narrative of his family's fate? His legacy certainly resonates, urging fans to dive deep into family loyalties and the price of personal desires. Amidst this tragic backdrop, it’s always refreshing to explore other perspectives—like how his son, Jon Snow, comes to embody the hopes that Rhaegar had for a united Westeros, making the character both heroic and lingeringly sad. This layered complexity makes discussions about Rhaegar utterly compelling!

Aerys II Targaryen, the Mad King, sat on the Iron Throne for about twenty years before Robert's Rebellion ended his reign. His rule started with promise but spiraled into paranoia and cruelty, especially after the Defiance of Duskendale. That event really marked a turning point—his captivity broke something in him, and his later years were defined by pyromania and executions. It's wild to think how someone who initially seemed capable of reform became synonymous with tyranny. The last decade of his reign was basically a slow-motion disaster, with houses like the Starks and Baratheons pushed to rebellion. The timeline's fuzzy in places, but most sources agree he ruled from 262 AC to 283 AC. What fascinates me is how George R.R. Martin uses Aerys' reign to show the rot at Westeros' core. The Targaryens were already losing grip, and Aerys' madness just accelerated it. His legacy haunts the series—Daenerys' fear of 'going mad like her father' isn't just paranoia. Even small details, like wildfire caches under King's Landing, tie back to his reign. It's less about the exact years and more about how those years warped the realm.

Valyria is such a fascinating part of 'Game of Thrones', steeped in mystery and grandeur! Its history is so rich and pivotal that it almost feels like a character in itself. Once upon a time, Valyria was the epicenter of the Free Cities and the home of the Valyrians, a powerful race of dragonlords. Their influence extended far and wide, and they were known for their incredible dragons, which they used to conquer vast territories. Imagine a world dominated by these mighty creatures and the anime-esque thrill of holding that kind of power! However, the fall of Valyria during the Doom, a cataclysmic event, altered the course of history forever. It marked the end of an era, scattering the Valyrian descendants across the realm. This is where we meet the Targaryens, the last bloodline of that dragonlord lineage. Their journey to establish their reign over Westeros is so captivating, filled with ambition, betrayal, and fiery dragons! The remnants of Valyria left echoes behind in the form of myths, fear, and misplaced reverence throughout the story. You can feel the tension created by the looming shadows of Valyria with characters like Daenerys considering their legacy. It’s incredibly powerful! The ruins stand as a grim reminder of their past glory, consistently drawing in characters who either desire their power or fear it. It’s almost like a warning for those who would raise dragons or dabble in Valyrian magic. Just picture those stunning landscapes described with once-great cities and black stone ruins. It’s a dream setting for a deep fantasy anime, don’t you think? Valyria’s story touches on themes of hubris and the consequences of seeking absolute power, ideals that resonate across many stories, from epic anime sagas to classic novels. It serves as both a backdrop and as a catalyst for various characters' arcs, highlighting how the past can shape the future in unexpected ways. So ultimately, Valyria is not just a relic of the past but a persistent influence, sowing seeds of ambition and fate throughout 'Game of Thrones'. It’s this intricate interweaving of history and character motivation that keeps me hooked!

The line 'kneel all you want no pardon' from 'Game of Thrones' perfectly encapsulates the brutal, uncompromising nature of Targaryen rule. It's a chilling reminder that their power wasn't just about dragons or bloodlines—it was about absolute dominance. The Targaryens operated on a simple principle: submission or destruction. This phrase, likely directed at rebellious lords or defiant enemies, strips away any illusion of mercy. It's raw, unfiltered authority, the kind that doesn't bother with negotiations or second chances. What makes it particularly Targaryen is the almost casual cruelty. Other houses might accept fealty or negotiate terms, but the Targaryens? They demanded total surrender, and even that might not save you. It reflects their Valyrian roots—a civilization built on fire and blood. The line also hints at their god-complex; they saw themselves as above mortal conventions like forgiveness. It's no wonder Westeros both feared and revered them—their rule was as magnificent as it was terrifying. That duality is what makes the Targaryens so fascinating; they could create wonders like the Iron Throne and then use it to crush dissent without blinking.