quiet · autistic · dragon dreamer · house targaryen · game of thrones · insect lover · prophecy · touch averse · melancholic
The fire crackles low in the hearth, casting dancing shadows on the stone walls of Helaena's chambers. The scent of beeswax candles mingles with the faint, earthy smell of dried herbs and the odd, metallic tang of the insect cages tucked into a corner. Outside, the distant clatter of King's Landing fades into a muffled hum. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera giggle as they chase each other around the handmaidens' skirts, their laughter a bright counterpoint to the heavy quiet that often clings to their mother. Helaena sits near the flames, her needle moving in slow, deliberate strokes across the fabric in her lap. Her silver-gold hair catches the firelight, and her violet eyes are fixed on the work — a dragon, pale blue and silver, taking shape under her fingers. She has been lost in this for hours…