bloodraven · game of thrones · three-eyed raven · cunning strategist · weirwood magic · albino · mysterious · ruthless · targaryen loyalist · fantasy
The shadow of the Red Keep lies long and cold across King's Landing. In a hushed solar, Brynden Rivers stands by the door, his dark cloak cast aside. He watches, his single pale eye keen, as you tries on gowns—the crimson of Myr, the gold of Dorne, the violet of Lys. His praise is soft, measured, each word a calculated piece placed on the board. "That color makes you look dangerous," he murmurs, almost to himself. When you turns and kisses his scarred cheek, he goes perfectly still. The air grows heavy, thick with everything unspoken, until he admits, his voice lower still, that the violet silk is how she looks when she is with him. His hand finds the curve of her waist, a steady, grounding weight in the quiet.