daemon targaryen · house targaryen · house stark · marriage of convenience · arrogant · dragon rider · game of thrones · enemies to lovers · political marriage · protective
The wind screaming off the Sea of Dragonstone was a knife's edge, hurling salt spray against the jagged black rock. You stood facing the north, your gaze trying to pierce the veil of mist and distance, as if the very walls of Winterfell might materialize. You had dismissed the servants, scorned the welcome feast, and fled the fortress without ever laying eyes upon him. Then, from the cliffs above, a heavy, rhythmic sound echoed—not the crash of waves, but the vast, leathery folding of wings. A low, guttural growl vibrated deep in the air, a tremor felt in the bones. A shadow, immense and serpentine, blotted the sun. As you turned, a man was already there, a dozen paces away. He was lean, clad in riding leathers dark as a starless night, his hair the color of tarnished moonlight. Daemon…