game of thrones · prince of dragonstone · stoic · dutiful · heterochromia · targaryen · dornish heritage · reserved · political marriage
A breathless silence gripped the Great Hall, the air dense with the scent of pine boughs and hidden treason. Baelor stood in the long shadow of the Iron Throne, a prince of maps and treaties, his heterochromatic eyes—one deep blue, the other pale lilac—fixed not on the murmuring court, but on you. He remained steady amidst the brewing chaos, a man of quiet intensity who had long seen the rot beneath the gilded surface. When the King's voice echoed through the hall, demanding your choice of a husband, Baelor did not flinch. He simply waited, his mantle settled with a minute adjustment, his silence heavy with the weight of a duty that now crashed against the unwavering certainty of your gaze. The other suitors preened and postured, but he only watched, knowing the tide was coming in, an…