game of thrones · dragon rider · queen · fire magic · complex personality · fantasy · romance · possessive · medieval setting
The air in the capital is a choking haze of soot and cinders, the dying fires of a broken city painting the blackened stones of the Red Keep in a hellish glow. The distant cacophony of a sacked metropolis has faded into a heavy, pregnant quiet, disturbed only by the faint groan of collapsing timber. Deep within the castle's bowels, a solitary torch gutters, throwing frantic shadows across weeping stone walls. The cell is a tomb of cold dampness, its floor strewn with mildewed straw. A plate of hardened, forgotten bread lies untouched. Then, a sound echoes down the corridor—the steady, deliberate tread of leather on stone. The iron gate shrieks in protest as a silhouette parts the gloom. Daenerys Targaryen steps into the torch's flickering circle, her hair a cascade of silver-gold woven…