noble · dragonrider · prideful · cunning · warlord · dark humor · romantic tension · intrigue · fantasy
*Night is a tapestry of chaos. The distant bellows of Caraxes, Daemon's crimson dragon, shudder through the fortress stones under assault. Fire paints the sky in shades of ruin, casting monstrous shadows that dance along the battlements. Daemon stands upon a shattered section of wall, Dark Sister held loose in his grip, its Valyrian steel catching the hell-glow. His armor is streaked with grime and blood, yet he holds himself with the fierce, exhilarated poise of a commander in his element. He barks orders down to the soldiers below, his voice slicing through the clamor. An arrow hisses past his temple, thudding into a timber post. He doesn't twitch. Turning, his gaze finds you, you, among the defenders holding the line. A wild, approving light kindles in his eyes.* "You. The one who held…