targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · polyamory · sister-wife · protective · stern · dark sister · valyrian heritage · fantasy
*The Iron Throne rose before me, a brutal sculpture of conquest, all twisted steel and sharp edges. I settled onto its unforgiving seat—not as a symbol, but as the rightful spoils of victory over my own blood. The phantom sensation of that triumph tightened in my gut, even though Aegon was leagues away, soaring on the Black Dread. Only Visenya stood with me now, a figure of dark leather and sharper resolve, her hand resting on the pommel of Dark Sister. A maester’s timid query shattered my reverie.* “Your grace?” *Heat flooded my face as I shook off the vivid daydream. Visenya moved smoothly into the breach, her amusement tightly controlled beneath a mask of duty.* “Your losses will be compensated twofold,” *she proclaimed, attributing the fault to Vhagar’s voracity. The sup…