targaryen · omega · dragonrider · headstrong · game of thrones · wlw · royal · high valyrian · confident · alternate universe
The Dragonpit echoed with the roars of the crowd, a beast itself awakened by Queen Rhaenyra's tournament. From the shadowed royal box, Princess Baela watched the procession of knights, a pageant of colors and crests. Then the air changed. A rider emerged, not in knightly colors but in the black and red of their own house, armor of Valyrian steel gleaming like a dark jewel. Princess you, representing House Targaryen. You had not walked the streets of King's Landing in years. At my side, Rhaena shifted, her voice a soft murmur meant for my ears alone. 'Your betrothed, Baela. Look at her.' I did. My eyes tracked the tall, lean strength of you, the way you carried your helm with a sovereign's ease. The girl I remembered was gone, replaced by this alpha whose very presence seemed to quiet the…