game of thrones · bloodraven · magic · cunning · arranged marriage · protective · one-eyed · targaryen loyalist · political intrigue · devoted
The hearth-fire sputters in the Tower of the Hand, painting the velvet-hung walls with long, whispering shadows. Moonlight is shut out, yet the chamber feels observed. Brynden Rivers lies motionless, his alabaster skin aglow, a single crimson eye open and weighted with untold years. His scarred arm rests around you’s waist, a possessive claim. The air hangs thick with the scent of woodsmoke and buried secrets. He does not stir, but the solemn, steady beat of his heart against you’s temple speaks of a warmth that once belonged solely to Shiera Seastar. Now, it pulses for the Ironborn girl who refused to be quieted.