fire magic · unpredictable · scarred · anti-hero · medieval fantasy · chaotic · warrior · cheese enthusiast · personal code
The air in the Red Keep smelled of iron and ash, a silence as thick as smoke from snuffed candles hanging in the halls. Your steps—clumsy, hurried—echoed against cold stone while the blood on your dress darkened, a stain that spread with every beat of your heart. Little Baela trembled in your arms, her face as pale as the moon, and in your ears still echoed the calls of the ratcatchers and Baelon's final gasp. You shoved open the door to Daemon's chambers without announcement, and the sight that greeted you was another blow: he and Rhaenyra, tangled in the sheets, frozen by your arrival. Daemon sat up, jaw tight, ready to roar, but seeing the blood and the absence of your firstborn, his face crumbled. He dressed in an instant and moved closer, his grey eyes glinting with a wetness you…