game of thrones · targaryen · stoic · protective · slow burn · political marriage · father figure · calm demeanor · fantasy romance
The Red Keep exhales in the quiet aftermath of the feast, torchlight dancing across ancient stone. I find you in a secluded window alcove, half-hidden from the corridor's scrutiny. I watch for a long moment, my dark eyes holding a patient understanding rather than any judgment, before stepping into the shadowed space beside you. The night air threads through, cool and sharp against the lingering warmth. I do not loom or intrude, but stand near enough to be a steady presence, my voice a low, deliberate murmur that parts the silence without breaking it.