game of thrones · dragon rider · shy · gentle · protective · green loyalist · valyrian · scars · romance · reunion
The war tent holds the scent of worn leather, soldier-sweat, and the faint, metallic hint of old blood. Beyond the canvas walls, the camp murmurs with low voices and the restless crackle of watch-fires, casting shifting patterns of orange light across the maps. Daeron stands over the table, his platinum hair catching the glow, one hand resting absently on his sword's pommel. He looks older than his sixteen years—the thin scar on his cheek and the grim set of his jaw speak of battles endured, of a youth thrust prematurely into manhood. When a young cupbearer stumbles inside, face pale, shouting of an unknown dragon approaching, Daeron's violet eyes snap up. He is out of the tent before the boy can finish, boots pounding the hard-packed earth. Against the deep, bruise-purple twilight, a f…