the weight of white.

on my current favorite couple, the politics of fanfiction, and the implications of being told to grin and bear it.

by anyasartwork06 on instagram.

autumn always invigorates me. it’s like i’m half asleep for the entire summer, holding fast against relentless summer propaganda and then the first cool front sweeps through and i shudder upright, stumbling free from my swaddle of cotton sheets and weighted duvet.

My sister and I have settled on the perfect pick for our sister book club—a tiny, exclusive organization of just the two of us, which feels like exactly enough. We chose An Education in Malice by S.T. Gibson, a retelling of Carmilla that fills the gothic romance void in my heart, sending warmth down to my stomach.

Autumn and Winter are my absolute favorite seasons, followed closely by Spring. In my mind, there are only three seasons to oscillate through. Summer, on the other hand, is a tedious stretch of oppressive heat that keeps me languid in bed until I gather the strength to make my way downstairs.

I get overly romantic as the weather turns colder—maybe it’s the vision of entering my studio apartment after walking home from the station, casually toeing off my kitten heels and dropping my keys absentmindedly into the bowl by the door. Or perhaps it’s the heat and vanilla noir scent of my flat wrapping around me as I unfasten the belt of my thick Italian wool trench, one of the few “big girl” designer purchases I’ve made.

Whatever it is, it’s coursing through me again. I’ve been on a romance kick since late July, particularly fixating on the pairing of Baela Targaryen and Jacaerys Velaryon from House of the Dragon. Specifically, the show—Bethany Antonia’s portrayal of Baela is the only one I care about (she’s literally my Goodreads username).

They’ve seeped into every part of my life. My thoughts overflow with them as I absentmindedly glaze my lips with vanilla gloss and “ultra-conditioning” chapstick. I’ve scoured every page of Archive of Our Own, bookmarking so many fics for later that my browser sometimes struggles to keep up. Deep in the night, when everyone else is asleep, I light the negative space around me with the eerie glow of my phone, devouring every word about them.

Baela and Jace fit perfectly into the dynamic I’ve dubbed “You’re in the wind, I’m in the water.” Yes, from the Lana song. They’re tragic lovers, and I’m bracing for their inevitable end, so I gorge on their current show scenes and the intricate fantasies penned by writers online.

They are each other’s shelter: betrothed to one another before they could decide but choosing each other when they are old enough. They make me believe in second lives because I watch them and feel as though I’m living another through the ache they inspire in my body.

Baela is Jacaerys’ green light across the water. He is closed off, an emotional stronghold until he looks at her and becomes glass. They are Daisy and Gatsby, a variation without the lack of wealth or elaborate lies.

They are a rhythm, a compulsion. They are shared water in a stone bath, bodies slick and soft. They are the application of a perfume oil against pulsing flesh if only to make it last longer.

I am insane about them.

Devastatingly so.

If I was in the HOTD world I would probably spend my days scheming about how to get a secret wedding planned and executed because my God, the people are starving for it.

I do think it’s funny that as religion-avoidant I am, my visions of their wedding tend to be opulent Roman Catholic affairs. The huge cathedrals, the absurdly long readings, the church pews you pretend not to look at and the looming body of Christ behind you that you pretend not to feel. It seems your roots are always your roots, though they extend as you grow and attempt to lengthen the distance.

As I actively scour the internet for Jacaela—or Jacela, as their ship name goes—I can't seem to escape the subtle, yet undeniable, politics surrounding Baela’s portrayal by a Black actress.

Jacaerys, played by Harry Collett, is a fan favorite, often accused of being more focused on serving face than serving the Seven Realms. Honestly, he's just being real.

But on a more serious note, Collett has managed to earn a spot in my usually impenetrable circle of fondness, largely due to his unwavering support for his co-star and their on-screen relationship. He’s relentless in his praise, affectionately referring to both Antonia and her character as “his wife,” “his girl,” and declaring Jacaerys and Baela to have “the healthiest relationship in the show.”

Once again, he keeps it real.

Antonia herself is an absolute delight, both in her portrayal on-screen and in her interviews. She’s a captivating presence—warmly beautiful, electric, and endlessly inspiring, especially when she imagines modern-day dates for Jace and Baela which acts as fuel for my avid daydreams.

She reminds me a lot of Delainey Hayles, the almost violently beautiful actress who plays Claudia in season 2 of AMC’s Interview with the Vampire.

Despite the clear affection between Collett and Antonia, and the depth they bring to their characters, Antonia’s social media is still plagued by trolls who can’t stand the idea of a Black Targaryen. They spew slander, slurs, and vitriol at her, cutting deeply, even though it’s not my Instagram notifications lighting up my screen.

Unfortunately, I'm all too familiar with these blatant displays of racism, but it’s the subtle erasures that wound the most.

When you explore the Baela/Jacaerys tag on AO3, Baela is often relegated to the background in her own love story. The most common slights are these:

1. Show!Baela is paired with Jace but only briefly, often selflessly giving up her own desires and happiness to allow him to be with an original female character who he’s fallen in love with behind her back. Said OC is often white and her faceclaim—an image or individual chosen by a writer to visually represent their fictional character—possesses bright blonde hair that flows atop a Euro-featured face complete with sea-blue eyes.

2. Show!Baela is paired with Jace but as a cover for his “true love” Cregan Stark, who has a speculated intimate relationship with her bethrothed in the books.

3. Show!Baela is cast aside for Sara Snow, a northern girl Jacaerys allegedly fathers children with in the books.

4. Show!Baela is replaced by Book!Baela with a vague author’s note about retaining accuracy which makes me feel uneasy.

Another honorable mention and the thing that irriates me the most is the refusal to acknowledge what she looks like.

In most fanfictions written by non-white authors, they skip over describing Baela’s skin tone as well as her twin sister Rhaena’s. Even in the most erotic ones focusing on imagined scenarios about Jace and Baela’s wedding night I can’t find a clear description of her. There are rapturous paragraphs about her snow-white hair, her vivid violet eyes, and then it just. . .stops.

The most I’ve seen is commentary on how the glow of the firelight enhances her “warm skin” or a brief sentence on how the moon bounces off the high points of her cheeks. I wouldn’t emphasize it so much if I then wasn’t forced to read endless sentences about the perfect paleness of Jacaerys’ thighs, hips, chest, etc.

I've become more adept at recognizing when an author isn't Black, and one of the dead giveaways is how Black skin is described. We're often reduced to food analogies (shout out to the time I was dubbed a "beautiful Nubian brownie queen") or labeled with vague terms like "warm," which in my mind spans a spectrum from tan to olive to dark brown skin.

It irks me because it's so glaringly obvious in the show. You can't pretend she's your idealized white princess when she's right there on screen, her presence undeniable. The treatment of her character feels so deliberate that I can't overlook it.

Why isn't Show!Baela allowed to be perfect? Why is Jace constantly paired with a Snow White lookalike in the endless self-insert fics that flood his tag on Tumblr and AO3? And why are Black viewers and readers relentlessly gaslit when they point this out?

The politics of fanfiction have always been intricate and often ignored by its participants. Another instance that comes to mind is the wave of self-insert fanfiction that swarmed social media after Avatar: The Way of Water (2022) came out.

Maybe I'm reading too much into it, but I was irritated by the relentless insertion of white women as love interests in a world clearly inspired by Black and Indigenous cultures. I felt more confused than angry, wondering why the Na'vi original characters were consistently based solely on Eurocentric features.

na’vi female faceclaim from pinterest.

na’vi female faceclaim from pinterest.

We know exactly what this is about.

Why is it so hard to accept that a white love interest could find a Black woman desirable, beautiful, and captivating? What makes it so difficult to believe that a fictional royal family of unhinged dragon riders in a fantasy world could include Black members?

We’re not naive—it’s painfully obvious.

As FKA Twigs once said:

“He was their white Prince Charming, and I think they considered he should definitely be with someone white and blonde and not me.”

Why is there no space for us to be the ones who are desired, who are fantasized about?

The impact of this exclusion is rarely considered.

I think of the Black women who must feel this deeply, who grit their teeth and throw their efforts into the void, hoping their white counterparts might notice, might finally see them. I imagine, after a while, it feels like tossing yourself away.

We’re told to grin and bear it, labeled as "killjoys" if we dare to speak up.

But I’m exhausted. It’s as if a window has been left open inside me for far too long, draining me of the strength I once held. Now, I want you to bear it.

Baela deserves her story, both as an individual and in her romantic arc. She deserves her royalty.

Black women deserve to ascend, to be princesses, then queens, and then history.

If you’re so desperate for endless whiteness, December is coming. Go outside into the snow.