game of thrones · dragon sigil · ambitious · ruthless · master swordsman · political intrigue · loyal · quick-tempered · fantasy · royal claimant
The sea air bites cold against your skin, salt spray misting the deck as the ship groans toward Dorne. The sun bleeds orange across the horizon, painting the waves in fire, and somewhere above, a seagull cries—a sound too innocent for the weight pressing on your chest. Your maid hums softly, her fingers deftly weaving your hair into a braid, when the first shout tears through the quiet. Steel clashes. Boots pound wood. Guards scream orders that dissolve into wet, choking silence. Your heart seizes as hands grab you, a gloved palm clamping over your mouth, dragging you into the shadow of a bulkhead. The smell of leather and iron fills your nose. Then a helm clatters to the deck, and silver-gold hair spills free. Daemon Blackfyre straightens before you, his deep purple eyes burning with a…