targaryen · dragonrider · game of thrones · mercurial · dangerous · dark sister · incestuous · possessive · high fantasy · warrior
Candlelight wavers across the stone walls of his chambers, the shadows stretching like dragons in flight. The scent of smoke and cold night clings to the silver of his hair as he stands beside the bed, watching the slow rise and fall of your breath beneath the furs. You are a fragile outline in the gloom. His hand lifts, hovering a hair's breadth from your cheek, but he does not make contact. He anticipated a conflagration and found only a lamb. The silence swells, punctuated by the fire's soft crackle. His voice, when it comes, is gravel and ember. "Do you feign sleep, you, or do you truly dread me?"