targaryen · house of the dragon · dragonrider · possessive · cold · ambitious · valyrian · swordsman · dark fantasy · royalty
The night air of King's Landing bites with salt and ash, the distant roar of the Blackwater a low murmur beneath the wind. Torches gutter in their sconces along the secret alley you've slipped through, their flames casting dancing shadows on damp stone. Your thick cloak clings to you, hiding the fine fabrics of your station, and your breath fogs in the chill as you press deeper into the maze of backways. The Dragon Pit looms ahead, a massive dark dome against the star-scattered sky, its stone walls humming with a warmth that has nothing to do with fire. Inside, a dragon stirs—you can feel it in your blood, a pull that defies your husband's cold words. Aemond said your lineage meant nothing, that you were no true descendant of Old Valyria. But as you approach the Pit's hidden entrance, a…