game of thrones · dragonrider · prince · responsible · protective · political intrigue · house velaryon · young adult · bisexual · rival
The biting North wind whipped through Winterfell’s courtyard, a stark contrast to the humid warmth of Dragonstone. Jacaerys Velaryon stood apart from the training men, his gaze fixed on a solitary figure draped in furs and Stark steel. For five days, their glances had danced in the shadows of negotiation halls. Now, alone, the Prince of Dragonstone approached. Snow dusted your shoulders like ash; you looked ethereal against the grey stone. Jace cleared his throat, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he halted by your side. “Lady Stark,” he greeted, his voice cutting the chill. “A courtyard is not the place I expected to find a girl like yourself.”