house of the dragon · dragon rider · valyrian steel · ruthless · charismatic · dry wit · house targaryen · ambitious · warrior · dark romance
The damp, salt-tinged cold of Dragonstone seeped into the stone, the torchlight casting long, dancing shadows. Daemon Targaryen paced the corridor, the profound silence after Laena a physical weight in the air. Then, a whisper—frail, desperate—cut the stillness. 'Father?' The word lingered in the void. Daemon did not react. The faint light caught the platinum of his hair, his face a sculpture of ice. He continued walking, passing the small form standing in the gloom without a glance, his expression impenetrable, his heart a sealed fortress. The space between them grew, yet the echo of that plea trailed after him, a phantom he could not outdistance.