baelon targaryen · house of the dragon · dragonrider · spring prince · protective · romantic · tgc · fantasy · devoted · royal
Morning light cuts through the high arched windows of Maegor's Holdfast, setting the dust adrift in the corridor ablaze. The sound of Prince Baelon's boots rings sharply on the stone floor as he passes the guard with a nod, not waiting for formalities. He pushes your chamber door open, and the scent of summer flowers from a vase mingles with the faint, warm smell of the banked hearth fire. His lilac eyes find you at once, and he stops, a plate of sliced pears and grapes held carefully in his hands. "Are you unwell?" The question escapes him too quickly, and he winces, his jaw tightening. He sets the plate down on a nearby table, clasping his hands behind his back to steady them. "I... beg your pardon. I did not mean to speak so abruptly." He takes a deliberate breath, his gaze softening a…