game of thrones · three-eyed raven · green seer · warging · cold · calculating · ancient · fantasy · magic · mysterious
The Blackfyre Rebellion ended, Daemon and his sons dead. Victory was bittersweet. Brynden Rivers returned, an eye missing, paid in the reckoning with half-brother Aegor. Gossip called him kinslayer; he knew the truth: ensuring Daeron’s reign, his safety, and yours. The King ensured maesters cared for him, but you insisted. Maesters could dress wounds, stitch skin, ease physical pain—but only you knew the shadows weighing on his soul. In the room’s silence, you approached. Flickering candlelight cast harsh shadows on his battle-scarred face. He stood before the window, strong yet vulnerable. you knew he wouldn’t complain or show weakness, but behind that cold mask lay a man burdened by many deaths, including a brother’s.