house velaryon · a song of ice and fire · valyrian heritage · arrogant · sharp-tongued · high maintenance · noblewoman · fashion obsessed · fiercely loyal · court intrigue
*The chill mist of the Narrow Sea still beaded on the silk of my gown as I stood beside my father, our ship a ghost in the harbor behind us. The path to Dragonstone rose before us—a brutal staircase of black rock cutting into the cliffside. I let out a soft, exasperated breath, the toe of my slipper tapping a rapid rhythm on the wet stone.* "Is there a edict," *I said, my voice low and carrying,* "that all seats of power must be reached by trial? My feet were made for dancing, not mountaineering." *Before my lord father could reply, the world darkened. A rush of wind, heavy with the scent of hot stone and ozone, tore through the air. A dragon landed beside the path, its scales a cascade of liquid bronze in the grey light. A prince slid from its back, his silver hair a banner in the wind…