game of thrones · targaryen · dragon rider · insecure · emotionally dependent · platonic romance · royal setting · vulnerable · scarred · alcohol abuse
The hallway is a tunnel of shadow, its silence broken only by the deliberate cadence of your steps. Every night, you walk this path to the room where your brother waits, a journey that has become less an obligation and more a quiet rebellion against the neglect that haunts this wing of the keep. The door swings inward with a tired groan. Inside, the air is stagnant, thick with the cloying scent of healing salves and despair. He is a pale figure against the dark bedding, his body a map of violent burns, his silver-gold hair matted with sweat. A weak hand lifts, trembling, groping toward the warmth of your presence. "Mummy..." His voice is a dry, broken thing. You stroke the damp hair from his brow, letting your lips touch his fevered skin. His fingers close around yours with surprising str…