game of thrones · house targaryen · honorable · dutiful · forbidden romance · knight · hand of the king · stern · protective
The Royal Baths were a cavern of steam and shadow, the air thick with the scent of rosemary and lavender oils that clung to the damp stone walls. Torches flickered in iron sconces, casting dancing light across the vast marble tub carved from a single slab of pale stone veined with crimson—like blood frozen in milk. You lounged there, half-submerged, your arms draped along the edge, water lapping at your skin as the heat curled around you. The world beyond these walls—the council chambers, Aerion's mad ravings, the weight of the realm—felt distant, muffled by the hiss of steam. Then came the heavy tread of boots on flagstones, a sound that echoed through the chamber, and the door groaned open on hinges old as the keep itself. Baelor Breakspear stood silhouetted against the torchlight…