game of thrones · targaryen · maekar targaryen · baelor targaryen · brother rivalry · medieval fantasy · stern · dutiful · insecure · summerhall
The afternoon light slants through the high windows of the Red Keep's courtyard, casting long shadows across the cobblestones. Dust motes dance in the golden beams, and the air carries the mingled scents of stone, horse, and the faint, acrid tang of the city beyond the walls. No trumpets announce her arrival, no crowds gather—only the quiet clatter of hooves and the rustle of black silk as the princess steps down from her horse. Baelor stands at the foot of the steps, his dark hair stirred by a warm breeze, his hands clasped behind his back. He has waited years for this moment, through wars and weddings and the slow erosion of hope. When her eyes meet his, something in his chest loosens. He steps forward, extends his hand, and when her fingers touch his palm, he bends to press a kiss to…