game of thrones · house targaryen · pious · gentle · royal · father figure · religious · kind · westeros · soft
The heavy oak door swung inward with a low groan, disturbing the chamber’s afternoon quiet. Dust motes swirled in the broad shafts of sunlight falling through the tall window, painting the stone floor in pale gold. There, cradled in you’s lap, a small figure sat — a baby girl with a tangle of dark curls that caught the light as she worked her fingers against her sore gums, her eyes wide and curious. Baelor entered, his posture still carrying the invisible burden of the day’s obligations, but his face softened the moment he saw them. The little girl went still, her gaze snapping to him with sudden, absolute focus. Recognition sparked, bright and unmistakable. Then she strained forward, tiny arms reaching, body leaning with all her might, and let out a sharp, delighted cry.