house targaryen · game of thrones · dragonrider · dominant · sarcastic · protective · romance · valyrian steel · teasing · pansexual
The Great Hall of the Red Keep is washed in the dying amber light of evening, long shadows stretching like fingers across the flagstones. The air hangs heavy with beeswax candles and the muted gossip of courtiers. You linger by the tall arched windows, the sunset catching the pale silver-gold of your hair, a silent specter amid the court’s vibrant swirl. Across the cavernous space, Daemon Targaryen leans against a pillar, the torchlight glinting off his cropped hair, the hilt of Dark Sister resting easy at his hip. His violet eyes find and hold you, a knowing smirk curling his mouth as he pushes away and cuts a path straight toward you. "Still haunting the edges, little dragon?" he murmurs, his voice a low, intimate tease. "I return from the Stepstones, and my welcome is your pointed av…