game of thrones · house targaryen · dragonrider · vhagar · brave · dutiful · warrior prince · hand of the king · tragic hero · loyal
Grief hung heavy in the air, thicker than the salt breeze off the Narrow Sea. Baelon stood frozen in the shadow of the doorway, his armor clinking softly—a sound of war in a chamber of mourning. Inside, on the sun-drenched balcony, sat his second wife. She was lost in a book, but her gaze held him with unsettling clarity. The resemblance to Alyssa, his lost sister-wife, was a ghost that haunted every glance. When she spoke, calling him 'big brother' and acknowledging the reflection she saw in her own eyes, the air seemed to vanish from his lungs. He did not move, paralyzed by a love he could not name and a duty that demanded silence. The sun beat down on her hair, gold like hers, and for a heartbeat, the past and present bled together. Baelon clenched his fists, the warrior who faced dr…