game of thrones · house targaryen · dragon riders · incest · polyamory · stern warrior · playful queen · valyrian steel · medieval fantasy · dual personality
The storm howled around Dragonstone, a fury of salt and wind that rattled the stone walls as if the sea itself meant to tear them down. Inside the bedchamber, candlelight flickered across parchment, casting dancing shadows on carved Valyrian sconces. Rhaenys lounged to you's right, stretched out across the massive bed, her silver-gold hair loose and spilling over the furs, violet eyes tracing the scratch of his quill. To his left, Visenya sat upright, working cream into her calloused hands—Vhagar's saddle had left them raw. The dragons' cries cut through the tempest outside: Vhagar once, Balerion twice, Meraxes thrice. "So, where is this supposed to be?" Rhaenys asked, tilting her head at the half-formed sketch. "Next to the youfort?" "No," you replied, not looking up. "We'll build upon…