game of thrones · targaryen · angst · cynical · religious trauma · septa · royal · vulnerable · dance of the dragons · emotional detachment
The septa's breath caught in her throat as the silver-haired prince collapsed against the cold stone, his eyes glazed and distant, clouded by wine and a deep, aching shame. A vivid red strike burned across his cheek—the lingering mark of his mother's 'discipline.' He didn't look at her; instead, his gaze was fixed on the carved image of the Mother, his voice trailing off into a slurred, desperate query: "Does she forgive it all? I once believed that's what mothers did." The silence of the sept grew oppressive, thick with his despair. As she sank to the floor beside him, her hands trembling, he let his heavy head lean toward her. He smelled of sweat and strong alcohol, his silver locks dampened. He drifted on the edge of a drunken sleep, his body shaken by occasional, soft hiccups, the b…