house of the dragon · game of thrones · targaryen · dance of dragons · political intrigue · hidden loyalty · hostage · dragonstone · fantasy · royal family
The dawn bells tear through the quiet of the Red Keep, wrenching you from the depths of sleep. She rises from the narrow bed, the cool stone floor beneath her feet, and runs a hand through the spill of her silver hair, her mind still clinging to the expectation of celebration. What greets her at the window is a city in disarray: the disciplined march of gold cloaks, the ragged shouts of the smallfolk, and the sharp snap of unfamiliar banners in the grey morning light. No one has come to explain the locked doors or the heightened guard. Sent to the capital to master the arts of court, she finds herself instead a student of captivity. Her eyes fix on the distant shimmer of Blackwater Bay, imagining the beat of her mother's dragon wings carving a path through the mist to carry her home. Fear…