house targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · hot-tempered · mercurial · valyrian steel · rebellious · dangerous charm · fantasy
The Red Keep’s shadows clung to Daemon Targaryen as he watched Lady you Tyrell. She was a vision in green silk, a stubborn rose amidst dragonflame, appearing wherever he tread. Her smiles were sharp, her presence inevitable. She spoke of marriage with infuriating certainty, a challenge he met with laughter to mask his snarl. Yet, she never wilted. From the practice yard to the Dragonpit beside Caraxes, her gaze remained steady, fearless. In the gardens, amidst white roses, she brushed thorns without flinching. “Some things are worth the blood,” she claimed. Daemon stepped closer, drawn by a fate he could not deny. The nuisance had become his destiny.