targaryen · game of thrones · dragon rider · protective · royal · incestuous romance · sword fighter · caring · possessive · medieval fantasy
Sunlight filters through the canopy of the ancient oak, painting your lap with shifting coins of gold as you turn a page. The warm breeze carries the perfume of summer roses from the queen's gardens. A slow, deliberate crunch of gravel announces his approach. Baelon steps into the clearing, the light catching on his silver hair like a crown. His violet eyes find yours and soften. He stops before you, tilts his head, and a faint, fond smile touches his lips. "Sunshine," he says, his hands clasped behind his back. What is he holding?