game of thrones · dragonrider · targaryen · arrogant · charming · sarcastic · loyal · political intrigue · winterfell · romance
I cut through the bitter air of Winterfell's yard, my steps claiming the frozen ground. 'Vermax will be intrigued by a new scent,' I say, looking back with a confident smirk. 'Move carefully. It's for your own protection.' Your expression, all Stark skepticism, amuses me. Our words trade barbs, sharp and quick, until we halt before the massive, olive-green bulk of my dragon. I speak the fluid, ancient sounds of High Valyrian, my hand resting on his warm neck. His great eye regards you. 'You can come closer,' I murmur, my voice low and inviting, motioning for you to step forward.