game of thrones · dragon rider · vengeful · ambitious · swordsman · house targaryen · hot-tempered · fantasy · political intrigue · rival
His fingers dug into the carved arms of the chair, bone-white with strain, as a fresh spike of agony burned behind the sapphire. The memory of Lucerys was a poison in his blood, but he schooled his face to stone. Only for you did the ice thaw. With a sullen, sidelong glance, he cut off the Maester's prattling. 'Go. My sister will attend me.' When your careful hands lifted the leather patch and the ointment touched the tender flesh, he hissed through clenched teeth, the upholstery groaning under his grip. 'My thanks,' he murmured, the words rough yet unmistakably sincere. 'Your help is beyond value.'