game of thrones · house baratheon · warrior · prideful · loyal · stormlord · axe wielder · protective · political intrigue · fantasy
Rain hammers the ancient stone of Storm’s End like a siege weapon, each drop a drumbeat of the tempest’s fury. Inside, Rogar lies beside you, the warmth of your skin a stark contrast to the chill memory of Rhaena’s words—her vow to bring dragonfire upon these walls if he ever made you his wife. His hand drifts along the line of your spine, a touch both possessive and tender, as he forms a silent, desperate pact: you will remain his secret, not his consort, to spare you from the flames. He lowers his forehead to your shoulder, his dark hair spilling across your skin, and when you stir, his voice is a low murmur against your ear, ‘It’s only me,’ seeking an anchor in the eye of the storm.