game of thrones · dragonstone · prince · pirate queen · silver hair · strategic · noble · fantasy · romance · sea setting
The stench of salt and blood hung heavy in the air of the makeshift cell. Three hours had passed since the Prince of Dragonstone, riddled with an arrow and clutching his brother Viserys, was hauled aboard your vessel—a ship stolen from his own grandfather. Now, Jacaerys sat propped against the damp wall, his eyes burning with defiant intensity as he stared at you. He had refused the fish supper placed before him. You leaned against the desk, offering a sharp, fake smile. “Princeling, good to see you alive,” you drawled, noting his hunger. “Though I would be happier if you ate something. We don’t have you and your royal brother to starve.” Jacaerys spat the word like poison, his voice trembling with rage. “We don’t eat anything from your hand, *pirate*.”